> Ernest Saves Equestria
>  by Emerald Harp
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Troll Safari
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, Rimshot,” Ernest said excitedly. “We only got a few more trolls left to kill.  Then we can go home and dine on a sumptuous dish of prune juice and chocolate.  How does that sound?”  

Rimshot gave a disapproving whimper as he scurried beside Ernest.   

The Great Redneck Hope frowned down at his dog.  “Now what’s wrong with that? They taste great together.” Then a light bulb came on in his head.  “Oh, right.  Last time I fed you that we had to put in fresh carpet, new wall paper, repaint the ceiling . . . How about a biscuit for you instead?”  

This seemed to placate the dog, and he gave a happy bark.  Ernest smiled down at Rimshot, “That’s the spirit, boy. It’s good to have ya back.”

Ernest strolled around the oak tree that was literally the root of all the troll problems.  As he walked at a leisurely pace, he sang “What is Love,” a tune that was also perfect for exterminating trolls.  Ernest bobbed his head rhythmically to the music that came from the radio in his truck. He rounded the tree and used his Super Soaker to shoot an extremely fat troll in the face with a stream of milk.  The spawn of Trantor convulsed and dissolved into a stinking pile of goo and bone.  

Ernest stopped singing and asked his dog, “How many does that make tonight, boy?  I lost count.”  

The beagle barked and scratched the ground a few times.

“That sounds about right,” Ernest said smugly.  “After all, I am Ernest P. Worrell, the Troll Slayer of Briarville, Missouri.”  

As he said this, another pod from the oak tree hit the ground a few feet away from him.  Ernest rolled his eyes and sighed as the pod sank deep into the ground.  “I wish those dang brussel sprouts would stop falling from great-grandpappy’s tree.  I haven’t gotten to go trick-or-treating tonight, and I am starving.”   

The former sanitation engineer pretended he was a graceful ballerina as he made his way over to where the pod had fallen.  He hummed along with the radio all the while as he clumsily pirouetted.  A shrieking troll erupted from the earth where the pod had sunk into the dirt. The stinking troll wielded two massive wood-splitting mauls like they were children’s toys and roared a battle cry.  

Unimpressed, Ernest stopped humming and said to the monster, “Yeah, yeah, quit your yelling. I got your lunch right here, Squid Lips.”  

He was about to shoot the hulking troll, but someone else had beat him to it.  Behind the dissolving beast was a twelve-year-old girl with a carton of milk.  

In a winey voice Ernest said, “Aw, you stole my kill, Elizabeth.  I need every kill I can get if I’m going to beat Kenny’s score.”  

Elizabeth shrugged and said, “Sorry Ernest, but I wanted to get one for myself before they were all gone.  Being a wooden doll wasn’t fun.”

Ernest nodded.  “The most delectable revenge, is fresh troll served dead with a glass of milk on the side, ya know what I mean?”  

Elizabeth grinned.  “I think I do.  By the way, Ernest, who sings that tune you were performing earlier?”

“Haddaway. Why?”

“Let’s keep it that way, okay?”  Elizabeth replied gently.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

As the massacre went on around the oak tree, Rotnart, a lone troll was fumbling and cursing at a large hide-bound book.  For the past twenty minutes he had tried to decipher the scrawl on the pages but could not for the life of him figure out which way was up on the ancient tome.  From what little Rotnart could understand, it was a spell to get him away from here, and right now that was exactly what he needed.  Unfortunately, most of it was in some sort of old demonic language that he didn’t quite understand.  Rotnart was starting to get scared because the noise of battle from the oak tree had become suddenly quiet.  

Panicking, the four-foot troll finally said, “#&%@ this paper.  I need to go!” 

The ugly beast in frustration tore the page in half, and to his utter surprise, a grey swirling vortex opened in front of him.  The doorway’s manifestation flung the newborn troll backwards with the force of a gale.  Rotnart somersaulted in the air and landed painfully on his face.  He spat out dirt, and still swearing, the monster got to his feet and gazed in wonder at the new door.  The troll’s beady eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as he wiped a large handful of snot from his face.  Rotnart grinned to himself and marveled at his apparent cleverness.  Only a troll as cunning as he would have been able to create a portal by ripping up spells instead of casting them.

Before the genius troll stepped through the new doorway, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut.  Or maybe that was gas.  He wasn’t entirely sure.  Either way, he had no clue where this portal would take him.  Hopefully, it would be a new place without that thrice-damned milk the humans were so fond of.  The tall, ugly freaks had just gotten lucky when they found out that the white substance was so incredibly deadly to trolls.  Rotnart reasoned that he wasn’t really running away; he would be back.  This was just a tactical withdrawal to . . . somewhere else.  

Rotnart knew that wherever he went, he would rebuild the troll nation.  Of course, he would do it better than his father, Trantor Double Nose.  After all, Rotnart had been one of the first to drop from the tree and thus had inherited all of Trantor’s cunning and ruthlessness.  Rotnart’s brothers and sisters who dropped after him were about as wise and cunning as domestic turkeys sniffing markers in a thunderstorm.  

Rotnart had also inherited a great mistrust of authority.  Instead of attacking the humans right off the bat like his father had ordered, he had slipped inside the oak tree and stole his dad’s bug out bag.  Rotnart then got the heck out of there, just before the Great Red Neck Hope and his kind showed up.  If his father were still around, he probably would be cursing Rotnart’s name right now.  Oh well.  That beats the hell out of dying by milk or being kissed.  Rotnart shuddered at that thought as he made sure that he had everything for his journey.  The bag he carried contained his father’s spell book, short sword, and three pods that had landed inside the tree and not on the ground.  Rotnart nodded in satisfaction, and before the troll stepped forward into the portal, he turned around and flipped the bird to the humans with both hands, then disappeared.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….	
As the last of the trolls were put down, Ernest asked Old Lady Hackmore, “Is that all of them, ma’am?”  

The witch closed her eyes and concentrated.  “There is one left that carries the blood of Trantor in his veins and smells like burnt skunk.”  

She and Ernest sniffed the air to pinpoint the source of the stench.  Ernest smelled his armpits.

Old Lady Hackmore pointed into the night and yelled, “He’s over there!”  

At that moment a huge portal opened where Hackmore was pointing.  Standing in front of the shimmering doorway of light was a single squat being with a bag slung over his shoulder.  Ernest’s blood boiled as he saw the troll raise his middle fingers in salute before vanishing into the light.  He tried to cover Rimshot’s eyes, but it was too late. The dog had seen it and could never unsee it.

In a fit of rage, Ernest pointed at the portal and declared, “You can’t just do that in front of my dog and get away with it! You, sir, are getting a big fat kiss from me! So, pucker up, Crater Face, and get ready to die!”  

Then he changed his demeanor and said in a Scottish accent to the old woman, “Stay here, me lady, and tell the rest of the lads and lassies that Troll Fighter One is going on a bloody Safari.”  

Ernest and Rimshot took off back to his truck.  Before he could chase after the errant troll, Old Lady Hackmore opened the passenger-side door.  

She placed a book on the floor boards.  “This will help you on your quest, Worrell. I don’t know where that Troll has gone, but you must destroy him.  No one is safe until you do.”  

Ernest tipped his hat to the witch and said in a western accent, “Much obliged, senoriter. Now close the door.  I got a trail to blaze into the heart of destiny . . . and a troll to mess up.”   

As soon as the witch closed the door, Ernest drove the Chevy pickup straight into the portal at full speed and disappeared. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

From the other side of the portal, things were not going as planned.  

“Close! Damn you! Close! Aw &%^# me!” Rotnart screamed.

But no matter how much he pleaded and yelled at the magical doorway, it would not shut.  Those stupid humans would find his portal any minute now.  He just had to close it.  Then an idea came to the troll.  Still standing in front of the portal, he quickly dug his father’s spell book from the bag and hysterically tried to find something about how to close a stubborn portal in the book’s index.  Mercifully the index was in troll and not demonic.  “Where, the hell is it?  Doors, gateways . . . Ah, here we go, portals.”  

Hearing something coming from the other side of the portal, Rotnart slowly looked up from the book.   It was a loud rumbling noise that was drawing closer and closer.  It was too loud to be a human, so allowing his curiosity to get the better of him, he stuck his head through the gateway.  What the young troll saw caused his heart to stop beating. 

“Oh, SH--!" 

He was abruptly cut off as a speeding half-ton truck slammed into him.  Inside the cab of the vehicle, it felt like Ernest and Rimshot had run over the world’s largest speed bump as they were jostled around inside.  “I think we found the troll, Rimshot . . . Either that or it was the ugliest two-legged deer I’ve ever seen.”   

Meanwhile the troll lay still for a few seconds on his back.  Somehow he had managed to hang on to his precious bag and the spell book.  

Rising to a sitting position he said, “Well, at least that cleared my sinuses.”  

He got painfully back to his feet.  The truck had disappeared over a nearby hill and from the sound of it, was coming back to check on him.  

Quickly looking around at his new environment, the troll realized that he was in a clearing with a forest surrounding him.  Rotnart scowled angrily.  The blasted gate had finally closed after letting Worrell and his machine through.  Thinking quickly, he placed a pod that contained one of his siblings on the ground and took off into the dark trees, running blindly into the night.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………	  

As the truck reversed at the top of the hill, Ernest was elated.  “We got him, Rimshot! We got the last of the ugly, stupid, fat, hairy, snot-nosed . . . What are you looking at?”  

Rimshot was staring into the passenger-side rearview mirror.  Curious, Ernest looked into the mirror and saw the troll illuminated in his brake lights.  It had survived being hit by the truck and was walking slowly towards the vehicle.  “Aw, rats! You gotta admit, boy, these stunties are tough.  Keep the engine warm. I’ve a troll to plant six feet under.”

Ernest grabbed his Super Soaker and exited the truck.  He walked around to the tail-end of his vehicle and waited for the troll to get closer.  As the troll approached, Ernest noticed that the beast had a loaded crossbow cradled between his snot-encrusted hands.

When the troll was twenty feet away, the beast stopped, pointed the weapon at the ground, and glared at Ernest.  In reply, having a great flare for the dramatic, Ernest narrowed his eyes and nodded in understanding.  

“Alright, Hammer Head, your move,” Ernest drawled.

He then stuck his water gun in his pocket, his right hand hovering above the plastic grip of the deadly milk weapon in anticipation.  

For fifteen seconds the combatants stared at each other with mutual loathing.  A gust of wind blew a tumble weed from out of nowhere to pass in-between them.  Finally, the troll blinked and raised his crossbow to his shoulder with deadly intent.  The whole scene seemed to play out in slow motion, as Ernest went for his water gun.  As the opponents leveled their weapons and took aim at each other, they fired at the same time.

The stream of milk caught the troll in the throat, causing him to dissolve instantly.  The crossbow bolt meanwhile missed Ernest’s left arm by centimeters but struck the left tail light of his truck.  The arrow bounced off the red plastic, ricocheted off a tree, glanced off a stone, and hit the back of Ernest’s head.  

Ernest staggered under the blow but didn’t fall.  He slowly and tenderly placed a hand on the bolt and yanked it out.  The head of the crossbow bolt had only pierced his cap.  He looked at the blunted head of the arrow, whistled, and said, “I’m glad it hit the hard end.”         
	

> The Home of Dr. Seuss
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the brief duel with the troll, Ernest realized two things.  The portal that he and Rimshot had driven through was gone, and his truck had stopped running during the fight.  

“Hey, Rimshot, why’d you let the truck die? I thought I told you to keep it running,” Ernest accused.

Rimshot leaned out the driver’s side window, gave an anxious bark, and then laid his paw over his nose.  Ernest’s eyes widened, “Is that right?”

After getting a flashlight from the truck, Troll Fighter One walked around to the front of the Chevy and saw a deep troll-sized dent on the front of his vehicle.  “Whoa, it’s like he put his face in wet cement . . . except it’s my truck!”  he exclaimed.  “Pop the hood, Rimshot. 
Let’s see what kind of damage Hammer Head did.” 

Rimshot engaged the hood release, and Ernest tugged and heaved on the hood of the Chevy until his arms ached.  He looked down to see what was wrong.  

“Oh, I forgot. I gotta hold the lever down and then pull,” Ernest said to himself.  

The hood came flying upward, along with several small blue jays, a mother raccoon with babies clinging, and a cloud of insects.  Ernest cried out in panic and fell backward to the ground.  When the ruckus had died down, he cautiously poked his head into the motor compartment and saw an empty bird’s nest and a host of mud dauber habitats all over the engine of the truck.  

Ernest chuckled nervously to himself, “Eh-heh-heh-heh, I guess it’s been a little while since I’ve been under here.”  

From inside the truck cab, Rimshot heard his master say, “Well, there’s the problem right there.  The battery terminals are loose.”  
Ernest wiggled the metal pieces, “. . . There we go; now I’d better check the battery.  Since I don’t have a tester, I’ll just gently stick this metal rod in-between here and . . . WAHHHHHH!!”  

Rimshot heard the familiar sound of his master being electrocuted, and for a brief moment, the truck started and then immediately died after a loud bang.  A few seconds later, Ernest closed the hood of the Chevy.  He leaned heavily on the driver’s-side door.  Miraculously, he was unharmed except half his face was drooping down to one side.  

He spoke in a slow, slurred, sad voice, “Well, boy, I fixed the battery, but I think I blew up the starter and . . . some other stuff doing it.  We’re going to have to abandon ship. Besides, we can’t drive out of here anyways.”     

The beagle hopped out through the truck window and joined his master outside.  Ernest’s face and speech returned to its normal stretchiness, but his heart hurt for the loss of his Chevy.  

The garbage man knelt down, petted Rimshot, and said, “Before we head back, I’d like to say a few words to our proud battle wagon.”  

He then tried to take his cap off his head but found that it wouldn’t budge.  It had been years since he had removed his head wear.  Ernest’s scalp and hair had woven itself around the fibers of the hat.  After several very painful attempts of trying to remove his cap, Ernest finally gave up.  The sad warrior put his hand over his heart and bowed his head.  Rimshot did the same . . . except in a very doglike manner.

“Well, old buddy, I appreciate all you did for us,” Ernest said thickly to his truck.  “And I’m sorry I treated you so roughly, but it was tough love. That’s why you’re so strong and dependable.  When I get back to town, I’ll send a tow truck for ya, and we’ll get you back on your wheels in no time.  Me and Rimshot gotta leave ya now, but we will come back for you, I promise.  Troll Fighter One never leaves a friend behind . . . at least not for long, you know what I mean?”  

After Ernest said that, he placed a hand on the Chevy and started to cry.  Rimshot affectionately nuzzled his leg and whimpered in sympathy.  

“No, I’m not crying boy,” Ernest explained, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.  Tears were streaming down his face and dripping onto the ground. “I just got an eye full of battery acid, and it’s irritating my allergies. That’s all.”  

Ernest then took a deep breath and reverently opened the door to the Chevy.  He took the book Old Lady Hackmore had given him and other supplies and gathered them into an old gunny sack.  

After saluting his fallen Chevy, Ernest said to Rimshot, “Well, boy, I guess we better double back the way we came. Judging from the trees and my exquisite sense of direction, I think we’re still in Missouri.  Yes, sir, those are some good old-fashioned Missouri ash trees . . . or are they maple?  Anyways, the neat thing about our state is that you are never far away from the next town, you know what I mean?”  

Rimshot gave a yip of agreement, and side by side, man and dog left the truck.

As Ernest and Rimshot made their way through the woods, the Troll Slayer became nervous.  A wind began to howl through the black unfriendly looking trees; wherever Ernest beamed his flashlight, he saw sinister looking shapes.  

He gave a worried chuckle, “Eh-heh-heh-heh, nothing to be scared of, boy.  It’s just our imaginations playing tricks on us.  I’m not scared, and you shouldn’t be either.”  

Suddenly he heard a loud growl from behind him that caused his mouth to go dry.  He also felt moistness on the back of his neck and smelled a foul odor on the breeze.

“Rimshot?” Ernest asked worriedly, “is that you?”  

Rimshot had managed to climb up Ernest and was hiding inside his shirt.    As Troll Fighter One slowly turned around to face what had made the noise, he fought a strong desire to urinate.  Right behind him stood a huge grizzly bear, standing on its hind legs.  

Too scared to move, Ernest said quickly, “Wow, Smokey. You look different without your cute little shovel and pants.”  

In reply the bear roared in Ernest’s face, and Ernest screamed right back at him for a good fifteen seconds.  

The cap that had been stuck for years was blown off Ernest’s head.  While the bear and man screamed at each other, the beagle scurried away and rummaged inside the gunny sack.  Rimshot produced a half-eaten tuna sandwich that had been in the Chevy’s glove box for weeks.  Rimshot picked up the sandwich between his teeth and placed it in front of the roaring bear.  The grizzly stopped roaring and greedily wolfed down the morsel in one bite.  Ernest knew a good idea when he saw one, so he slowly upended the gunny sack and gave what was left of their food supplies to the bear.  

“Eat up, big fella. You don’t want to eat us.  We got worms and gingivitis,” Ernest said.

Rimshot gave a bark of indignation at this.  

“Oh, alright. I got worms and gingivitis,” he admitted.  “How was I supposed to know Vern put . . . that stuff in my sandwich?  I’m sure he was just kidding around.”

After chowing down on moldy bread, ham, and cheese, the bear stopped growling and came right up to Ernest. Surprisingly, the grizzly enveloped him in a rib-crushing bear hug.  

Ernest hugged him back.  “Ow, oww! I love you to big fella. Oof!”  

When the bear let him go, the sanitation worker collapsed to the ground and moaned, “Rimshot, ask him for directions on how to get back to Briarville.”  

After a series of yips and barks the bear gave a quiet roar in reply and started to plod its way through the brush, in the same direction Rimshot and Ernest were heading.

When the man and dog followed the bear through the woods, they happened across a well-lit tree house, which was literally a house built into the tree, complete with doors and windows.  The tree itself was wide and thick, yet small in height.  The outside was decorated with what looked like tribal masks and empty glass bottles.  

After looking at the strange tree in wonder, Ernest said, “Hmm, well, it’s not exactly Briarville, but it’s better than being out here.  Thanks, Smokey, we can take it from here.”  

The grizzly nodded his head and disappeared into the forest. 

As Ernest and Rimshot cautiously walked up to the weird building, the sanitation engineer remarked, “This must be where Old Lady Hackmore brews her potions.” He breathed a sigh of relief as he said this.  “I was starting to get a little worried there, buddy.  We can’t be far from home now.”  

As Ernest was about to knock on the entrance, he spied a note taped to the door.  It read:

To any pony it may concern: Zecora has what you yearn.  I have many potions that will cure, but only if your heart is pure. Unfortunately, at home this zebra is not. I am collecting something that can’t be bought.  A beautiful flower I must harvest by moon, for what I am gathering is the rare Midnight Bloom.  Fear not, my friends I will be back. In one day’s time, I will provide what you lack.

Impressed, Ernest said, “Wow, Rimshot, this is neat.  I didn’t know writing like Dr. Seuss was still popular around these parts.  But who’s Zecora?  And what does ‘Unfortunately, at home this zebra is not’ mean?  It must be witches code for what her next meal’s gonna be.  I didn’t know you could eat zebra.  This has to be Old Lady Hackmore’s cousin or step-sister’s place.  Come on, boy, this den belongs to some other creepy lady.  Let’s go find the home of our witch.”

After he said that, the beagle whimpered and began to scratch the door hurriedly.  

“Well, whose fault is that?” Ernest responded, “Is it number one or two?”  

The dog barked twice.  

“Why didn’t you use the bathroom before we went through the portal?” Ernest scolded.  

Rimshot shrugged his shoulders in reply.  

“Fine, I’ll try the door and see if it’s unlocked. But don’t be surprised if this Old Lady Zecora doesn’t have a toilet.”  

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked.

As the duo entered the strange structure, Ernest was not surprised to find himself in a witch’s lair.  All along the walls were strange looking masks, and on every shelf, cabinet, and cupboard were vials of different colored fluids.  In the center of the room, suspended over dried wood, was a large pot. 

Ernest pointed to it and said, “Rimshot, come over here! I found the chamber pot, and it looks clean.”  

Ernest put the pot on the ground, and as he did so, his stomach suddenly rumbled violently.  He belched loudly and said, “You go on ahead. I gotta talk to a man about a horse myself.”

After doing his business outside, Ernest came back in the tree building and looked around the one-roomed structure.  

“Well boy, I don’t see a sink in here, so she must clean her own appliances with the potions she makes.”  

He was about to say more when one of the masks hanging on the wall got his attention.  

“Hey, Rimshot, get a load of this,” Ernest took the mask off the wall for closer examination.  “This is neat. Look at all the detail, Rimshot.  This mask almost looks like it’s made from real bone, feathers, skin, and  . . . and how about we put this back?  I’m getting a bad feeling, know what I mean?”  

The beagle barked in agreement

Ernest was about to put the mask back where he found it when he saw a cavity in the wall that had been concealed by the mask.  Shining the flashlight into the hole, he saw three vials.  

“Rimshot, there’s something back here.  I’ll just reach on back here and,” his fingers grasped the three bottles, “. . . there we go.”  

The vials were different from the ones on the shelves.  They were checkered white and blue, with each depicting a red pegasus, unicorn, or a horse on the center of the bottles.  According to the labels, they were potions of Pegasus Flight, Unicorn Magic, or Earth Pony Strength.  

“Wow, Rimshot, look at these sport drinks I just found.  I bet these make you run faster, jump higher, and . . . and . . . all that good stuff.  They’re neat and all, but not really what I had in mind for a thirst quencher.”

In response to this, Rimshot hopped up on one of the tables in the large room and began to sniff the bottles.  When he got to a bottle that contained a yellow substance, he gave a bark to get his master’s attention.  

“Whatcha got there, boy?”  

The Troll Slayer walked over to the table and picked up the vial that Rimshot had been sniffing.  The label on the bottle read, “Mellow Yellow.”  

Ernest grinned at his dog and said, “Good boy, Rimshot, you hit the jackpot. This was exactly what I was looking for. I could use a soda right now.”  

Before he uncorked the vial, he added, “Hey, Rimshot, do you want any?”  

The beagle shook his head in reply.  

“Are you sure? It’s Mellar Yellar after all. Way better than Mountain Dew.  I like it cause it goes down smooth and tastes like a tangerine wrapped in a lemon, you know what I mean?” With that he pulled the stopper out of the glass bottle and downed the contents in one gulp.  

Ernest smacked his lips together and said, “Not bad, but . . . eeeeehhhhheeeewwwwww.”  

Troll Fighter One’s face contorted like he had bitten into the sourest fruit he had ever tasted.  His eyes watered then bulged. His lips puckered, and his skin turned a bright shade of yellow.  

Ernest clung to the table, took a deep breath, and said wheezily, “Man, Rimshot, that soda has gone south in a big way.”  

The garbage man got back on his feet, turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees, and said dizzily, “Whoa, Rimshot, check out this room. It’s like it has several faces all lookin at ya at once.”  He then began to chuckle and say, “I think they like us, boy.  Oh, wait. Hold on. The faces are talking to me. I’d better listen and see what they want.”  

Ernest then collapsed face first in the middle of the floor and began to snore loudly.  Half an hour later, he awoke to Rimshot licking his face in concern. He opened his eyes and said wearily, “The, uh, faces, yeah the faces. They say we need to get back to the truck and, uh, fix it. . . Gosh, I sure am hungry.”

Like a man on a mission, Ernest went about the room gathering random odds and ends and dumped them into the chamber pot after he had emptied it of Rimshot’s business.  He then took the three “sports drinks” and added them to his gunny sack, which also got thrown into the smelly cauldron.  Dazedly he opened his wallet and placed twenty-seven dollars on the table the Mellow Yellow had come from.  

“There. I paid for everything. Now let’s get out of here, boy.”

As they exited the tree house with the pot, he saw the note and said groggily, “I should say what we took . . . and I should do it in Dr. Seuss.”  

He found a pen in his pocket and scrawled at the bottom of the note: 

Dear Zecora,
Thank you for your hospitality.  It sure was enjoyed happily.  My dog used the pot to do his business in. We shall clean it and return it to you again.  I tried on some masks and that was fun. Then I found some sports drinks in a hole.  (Sorry, I couldn’t think up a rhyme here. Writing in Seuss sure is hard).  Like a good fellow, I drank the Mellow Yellow.  I recommend next time you refrigerate your stuff, because one drink of that sure was enough.  I took some pieces to fix my truck.  Your money’s on the table. Wish me luck.”     
Ernest P. Worrell 
		           

> Chimera is Latin
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After nearly an hour of stomping through the woods, Rotnart was exhausted and hungry.  He looked over his shoulder for the hundredth time to make sure that he was not being followed.  The devious troll was pretty sure no one was tracking him, but when one was dealing with Ernest P. Worrell, one never knew what to expect.  Ernest played the part of the fool well, but deep down Rotnart knew that the man was as cunning as a fox--an insane fox that was easily confused, but a fox none the less. 

To slake his growing hunger, he ripped off a piece of tree bark and munched on it like it was a piece of jerky.  As the ravenous troll chewed the coarse outer skin of the tree, his eyes lit up with delight.	

“Wow!  This tastes great.  I must be in the Big Troll Candy Mountain,” he grinned.  

Forgetting the fact that Ernest might still be hunting him, he began to strip the tree of all the bark he could reach and gorged himself until he swelled up like a balloon.  His ragged clothes struggled to cover his massive belly. After letting out a very loud and prolonged fart to relieve his stomach, he spied a pair of squirrels watching him with utter disgust.  

Not liking the looks the small creatures were giving him, Rotnart ripped off two large pieces of bark from a second tree and began to chase the now terrified creatures.  

“Come here, my nutty little friends,” he huffed as he ran.  “I won’t harm you. I just want to make a sandwich out of your tiny furry hides.”

It was tough going, running on his short stubby legs with a belly full of bark.    The squirrels were quick, but surprisingly the persistent troll was closing the distance.  Rotnart made a lunge for the trailing squirrel and enveloped it between two delicious pieces of maple bark.  The troll drooled in anticipation.

Wiping his mouth, he laughed, “Yeah, you didn’t think the fat slow troll would be able to catch you.  You thought you could just waltz up to me and question my table manners without fear.  Well, my scrawny little meat slice, you thought wrong.”  

Rotnart opened his mouth wide and slowly inched his sandwich to his jaws, enjoying the moment. Suddenly, he heard a noise to his right.  The troll froze; the squirrel meal was practically inside his mouth.  Rotnart spat out his hard-won sandwich and watched as the squirrel raced off into the forest.  Lucky bastard.  Rotnart dove into a nearby rose bush and fought to keep from crying out as he landed painfully in the thorns.  And the roses smelled terrible.  Their sickly sweet smell really did a number on his allergies.  He covered his mucus-filled nose with a massive hand and tried not to breathe in. 

Despite his agony, Rotnart kept quiet. The noise was getting closer.  It sounded like someone was walking his way, whistling a happy tune.  Sweating nervously, the troll silently cursed himself for his love of bark and squirrels.  Why did he have to stop to eat so damn much?  It was all over.  That foxy Worrell had finally found him.  

“I know you’re in there,” a calm voice said.  “You can’t hide from me.  Ask anypony around here.  I’m the hide and seek champion.”

From inside the bush, the troll stopped picking thorns out of his butt, and a confused look creased his ugly face.  That didn’t sound at all like Worrell.  It must be one of his deadly henchkids, armed with a milk gun.  The mental image of himself dissolving into a puddle of goo while a smiling child cackled, made him sweat.  He shook his head.  Maybe the kid was bluffing.  Yeah, there was no way that anyone could spot him in his supreme hiding spot.

“I can see you.  You know that right? Is it comfortable sitting on rose thorns?  I’m just asking, because if that floats your boat, who am I to judge?”  

“$&%!” Rotnart swore.  

Well, he wouldn’t be just a sitting target. Rotnart squirmed in the bush to reach for his sword but couldn’t.  He stretched behind him, attempting to get the spellbook from his pack, but that was out of reach as well.  The troll then tried to rise from his awkward position but was stuck fast.  His short beard, hair, and clothes were too intertwined with the thorn vines to do anything.

Frustrated beyond words, he threw all caution to the wind, as he ripped his body free of the thorns, pulling with all of his might.  He arose from the rose bush with a high pitched scream as he left a large portion of his hair and beard behind.  As he yelled, he saw a shadowy being some feet away, watching him with wide yellow eyes.  

The bloody troll yelled at the mysterious creature, “You want a piece of me?  I’ve defeated the mighty thorn bush! I’ll defeat you too.”

The dark form stepped forward from the shadows of the nearby trees and revealed himself in the moonlight.  The being was tall, furry, scaly, and feathery.  It looked like a demented god decided to cut and paste a dozen different animal parts together saying, “I did it.  I did it.  I’ve created the world’s must f(#%ed up creature. I think I’ll call it a chimera.  It’s Latin for f(#%ed up creature.”  

The strange animal spoke condescendingly, “Aw, there you are, Sweetie Pie.”  

Rotnart immediately hated it and wanted the creature dead.  

“You are just as cute as a button in your adorable messed up clothes.”  The mismatched animal suddenly teleported over to where the troll was standing and began to ruffle his hair.  “Where did you come from, little guy?” 

In reply, the troll yelled, “Get your filthy hands off of me, you freak!  You will not fondle the king of trolls!”  

Rotnart tried to push the tall creature away but found that it had disappeared.  From above him, Rotnart heard the monster ask, “A king are you?  How interesting. So if you’re a king, then what does that make that lanky thing over there in the hat?” 

From behind him, the troll heard the familiar laugh of his arch nemesis, “Eh-heh-heh-heh.”  

As he slowly turned around, Rotnart’s blood froze in his veins.

Behind him stood Ernest P. Worrell with a maniacal smile on his face.  Without saying a word, Ernest drew back his fist and made as if to punch the troll in the face.

Rotnart collapsed in fright and wet himself.  He writhed on the ground, expecting any second to feel agonizing pain, because surely Ernest had come prepared with milk.  After several moments of screaming for his daddy troll, he felt no pain.  The troll cautiously peered through the gaps in-between his fingers to gaze up at Ernest.  But Ernest was not there. Instead, he was looking up at the disfigured monster.  

“Judging from your calm and collected reaction to this . . .somepony, I take it you are trying to avoid him?”  The mismatched monster asked.   

Rotnart was too enraged to speak, so instead he tried to cleave the monster in half with his sword.  The blade passed right through the chimera; the creature had split itself in two halves before the blade struck.  The two halves of the creature reformed into identical copies of one another. Despite loathing the chimera with every fiber of his being, Rotnart was developing a healthy respect for its awesome power.  Sensing he was in a predicament he could not win through force, he silently fumed and sheathed his weapon.  

“Who and what are you, freak?” Rotnart growled.

Both of the chimeras knelt and bowed their heads before Rotnart and spoke in unison, “Why, the name of your humblest of servants is Discord, oh king of trolls, first and only draconequus of Equestria.”

The troll raised an eyebrow at this and said, “That’s nice. Now make like the wind and &%$@ off before I kill you.”  The threat was weakly delivered, and the monster seemed to sense it.

The creature snapped its fingers, and one of its copies disappeared.  The remaining Discord raised his head at this and said, “Uh, don’t you mean buck off, your majesty?”

“If it will make you leave, then yes.”

Discord stood up and asked, “What’s the rush, oh nattiest of the nasties?  Are you late for a very important date?”  Discord then turned into a white rabbit, wearing a black suit frantically gesturing to an oversized pocket watch.  In reply, Rotnart threw a nearby rock at the rabbit.  The disguised Discord dodged this easily.

Reappearing at the troll’s side in his normal form, Discord said, “I’ll tell ya what. I like you, so let’s play a game.  I like to call it Guess Who’s Nosy.  Here’s how you play.  I ask a question, and then you ask a question.  When we touch on a subject that one of us does not want to talk about, we say ‘Guess Who’s Nosy,’ and the pony who said that phrase loses.  If you win, I’ll do something nice for you.  If I win, you gotta do something for me.  What do you say?”  

As Rotnart considered Discord’s proposition, the chimera continued, “And don’t worry about the tall lanky creature. The last time I saw him, he and his dog were talking to a grizzly bear, and the bear certainly wasn’t happy.  I didn’t really stick around to see what Mr. Bear did to him.  Bears typically don’t appreciate strangers.  Anyway, I saw you wandering around lost in the woods, eating tree bark and I said to myself, ‘I don’t think he’s from around here.’  Am I right?”

The troll breathed a sigh of relief, as he took in this new information about Ernest.  Hopefully, that human had been eaten by the bear.

“Suppose I don’t want to play your game?”  Rotnart asked. 

Discord frowned and scratched his chin with a claw thoughtfully.  “Well, I guess I’ll have to do my civic duty and report you to the local authorities for being such a spoil sport . . . and for trying to eat squirrels and devouring trees.  Which by the way I gotta ask, what does tree bark taste like?”

The king’s eyes narrowed as he weighed his options.  “Like your mother. Now ask your damn question.”

Discord beamed at the troll and snapped his fingers.  Rotnart suddenly found himself reclining on a comfortable couch.  Wearing a pair of eye-glasses, the chimera for his part was in a regular seat dipping a quill pin in a floating ink well.  “Alright, first question, my dear,” Discord began.  “What’s your name?”

“Rotnart,” the troll replied, pushing himself off the couch angrily.

“Rotnart,” Discord scribbled the name down on his note pad.   “First of all . . .”

“Hey, wait a minute,” the troll demanded.  “You asked your question. It’s my turn.”

Discord smirked at the troll.  “Heh, you catch on quickly, your majesty.”  The misshapen animal crossed his legs and leaned back leisurely in his chair.  “Very well, shoot.”   

The troll stood up and asked, “Where’s the nearest town?”

Lazily, Discord pointed a clawed thumb behind him and said, “About a mile that way.”

Discord then wiggled a finger beckoningly at the couch Rotnart had vacated.  The couch came forward like a dog bounding to meet its master and tripped the troll from behind.  The four-foot troll fell backwards onto the cushions.

“Now, where was I?” Discord asked, glancing as his notes, oblivious to the troll’s outrage.  “Oh, yes.  Rotnart, where did you come from?”  

Before the troll answered, Discord interrupted and said, “And let’s be specific and detailed with our answers from now on. I don’t want to be here all night, trying to pry information out of you, and I am sure you feel the same about me, agreed?”  

Finally, settling onto the couch for it was quite cushy, Rotnart nodded. He then began to pick lint out of his huge belly button through a fresh whole in his shirt.  “I’m from Briarville, Missouri. If you haven’t heard of the place, it is because the town is a $&^% hole.”

Discord scribbled everything the troll had said on his notepad.  “Nope, never heard of it.  But it must be pretty awful, coming from a place called Misery. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

Before the troll asked his question, he sat up on his elbows and marshaled his thoughts.  This took a few minutes.

“Any day now,” Discord sighed.

“Is there an old tree in this forest?” Rotnart finally blurted.

Discord laughed at this and said, “Let me check.” He looked to his left and right and nodded.  “Yes.  Indeed there is.”

Rotnart yelled, “Let me finish, freak!  A tree unlike any other whose roots go deep and span the forest floor.  A tree that is very special beyond words.  A tree that is powerful.  Maybe even magical.  You got anything like that here?”

After hearing the question, the smile Discord was wearing disappeared briefly. He took off his glasses and looked at the troll thoughtfully.  “Yes, there is. It’s called the Tree of Harmony.  It’s a very special tree, full of magic, wonder, love, happiness, and etcetera,” he said, rolling his eyes and sticking out his tongue.

Discord readjusted his glasses, “Well, that changes my next question. Why do you ask?”

Rotnart wiped his nose with the back of his hand before answering.  He knew from here on he had to be careful and not give away too much information to this creature.  Rotnart had to get to this tree if he was to rebuild the troll kingdom.  “My father, Trantor, was imprisoned under an oak tree for two hundred years, give or take.”

“Really!” Discord exclaimed, surprised.  “Let me tell you something, that sucks.  I’ve had a similar experience happen to me and. . .”  he trailed off and shuddered.  Clearing his throat, Discord prompted, “Go on.”   

Giving the creature a curious look, Rotnart continued, “My father was put there by a man named Phenias Worrell, the great great grand pappy of Ernest P. Worrell, the douche bag that is hopefully being eaten by a bear. I hate that guy.   But before Phenias bound him to the tree, Trantor cursed him so that each generation of Worrells that came after him would become stupider and stupider.  My dad foresaw that one of Worrell’s descendants would eventually release him.”

At this point, Discord held up his hand and said, “This is all very interesting, but you haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m getting there,” Rotnart snapped back.  “Trantor used his magic to enchant the tree and created me, my brothers, and sisters.”

Discord held up a paw to interrupt the troll.  “Ah, okay, I see where this is going.  Let me guess. You want to take a look at the Tree of Harmony to see if you can do the same thing your dad did?” He began to count on his fingers.  “You’re not a true king. You want your own troll army to get rid of Ernest. You want to go home and take the troll throne for yourself.”  

Rotnart just stared at Discord, dumbfounded.  “Yes, I mean no. I uh, just want to look at the tree and maybe borrow some of its power so I can go home.  Can you take me there?”

The chimera tugged at his goatee for a few seconds, considering the trolls request.  He suddenly grinned at him and said, “Oh, why not.  I’ll take you there, just because you’re so darn cute.”  

Discord snapped his fingers, and both creatures disappeared into the night.
    

> Are You a Pedophile?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Ernest and Rimshot left the tree hut, it soon became apparent to the little dog that his master was not well.  The lemon-colored Troll Fighter babbled to his faithful companion about random topics as they walked.  Every now and then Ernest would sway unsteadily but managed to right himself each time just before tipping over.  

Rimshot kept plodding forward, silently praying that the effects of the cursed Mellow Yellow potion would wear off sooner rather than later.  The dog did not know how much more of this he could take without snapping. 

Much to Rimshot’s annoyance, he heard his master say, “Rimshot, have I ever told you how handsome you look when the moon hits your collar just right?”  

This time the dog whirled on Ernest, giving him a stern look and a sterner bark.  

“No, Rimshot.  Of course I’m not coming on to you.  I know you’re seeing a nice bit-- I mean, girlfriend, back home.  I’m just saying, any female dog would be lucky to have such a fine pup like you.  I mean with your soft white fur, and your nice white teeth, and—”

Rimshot growled at Ernest.  

The garbage man blinked slowly and took the hint.  “Sorry, boy. Let’s talk about something else.” 

The pair continued walking and Ernest began, “Now, what was I saying before we started talking about how nice you look?. . . Oh, yeah, the tree-shack.  Anyways, you remember that one time at the bank in Tennessee where I was floating off the ground?”  

Rimshot yipped quietly in acknowledgment.  

“Yeah, well the same thing happened in that voodoo shack way back when.”

Rimshot rolled his eyes.

Ernest continued, oblivious to his dog’s exasperation, “Except I wasn’t being electrocuted. I was dreaming.  I was floating above myself--I mean my real self, you know what I mean?  And those masks . . . them masks that we saw were alive and talking.  But man, those masks were pretty hard to understand. And they wanted to say everything in Dr. Suess, just like that note on the door.”

Rimshot shook his head as his master continued talking. 

“Now this is where it gets weird.”  

Despite Ernest’s obvious aliments, Rimshot snickered a little and barked.

“Yeah, well, I know this is already weird, but it’s the truth . . . maybe.  Those masks said we weren’t in Missouri anymore but someplace called Equestria.  And that this place was . . . inhabited by ponies . . . and other things. I’ll be honest.  I kind of tuned ‘em out after they said that.”  

The beagle looked up at his master dubiously.  

“Don’t look at me like that boy,” Ernest defended.  “It was more than a dream, and I know masks can’t talk.  Or at least they couldn’t last I checked, but this was different.” 

Rimshot gaped up at Ernest.  The beagle could stand it no more.  Rimshot looked Ernest in the eye while he gave several loud, scolding barks.  

“What do you mean none of that was real, and I’m higher than Sputnik?”  Ernest asked incredulously.  He stood up and grabbed an overhead pinecone dangling above his head and began munching on it.  “I’m just fine,” he said spraying pine cone chunks as he spoke.  “Except this apple needs more sugar.”  

Rimshot considered chomping Ernest on the leg to make him stop eating but decided that his human companion had ingested worse things than pinecones in the past.  The wooden fruit also had the added benefit of keeping the human quiet as they slowly made their way to a little stream.

“Good boy, Rimshot,” Ernest declared, gulping the last of his pine cone treat.  “We can get the smell of anchovies and pickles out of this thing and later give it back to Zecora.”  Ernest thought about this for a moment.  “I just hope she isn’t too upset at us for borrowing it and that she doesn’t decide to turn our faces into masks.  You don’t think she holds a grudge, do you, boy?”

Rimshot just shrugged his shoulders as Ernest dumped out the contents of the pot and began to wash out the cauldron.

The beagle was relieved that his master seemed to be feeling better.  Ernest’s speech had improved  . . . well, it was back to normal at least, and he had stopped swaying like he was on a boat about to capsize.  	

Rimshot had wandered off a little way and was looking around the immediate area when he heard his master’s trademark scream.  

“WWHHHAAAAAA! Rimshot! Rimshot, help! Come quick!”  

Immediately the dog rushed to where Ernest was, ready to pounce on the nearest threat.  Instead, he saw his owner gazing into the water with a soaked head.  

“How long have I’ve been like this?” the sopping wet Ernest asked.

The replying bark did not make Ernest happy.  

“Could I be more specific?” Ernest repeated, “You know you can be pretty mean sometimes for a dog, Rimshot. You know what I’m talking about!  How long have I’ve been the color of a banana?”  

After another bark, the Troll Slayer said, “Yeah, I noticed my hand was yellow, but . . . I thought it was just moon light bouncing off the tree leaves and making it look that way.  I tried just now to wash it real good, you know what I mean? And it doesn’t come off.  How did this happen?”  

Rimshot just shook his head and barked nonchalantly a few times.

When the canine was done, Ernest pointed a finger at him and said, “Ah ha! This is your fault! I knew it. If you hadn’t made me drink that . . . not Mellow Yellow stuff, I wouldn’t look like a fruit.  The kind you eat, not the other kind.”  

Faithfully, the dog did not make a reply but sat patiently waiting for his master’s next words.  

Ernest let out a long sigh.  “I’m sorry, buddy.  You’re right. It’s my own fault.  That container did look different than your average Coke product bottle.  Can ya forgive me?”

The beagle, after hearing his owner’s apology, just smiled and nodded.  

Troll Fighter One grinned back and said in his best cowboy voice, “Buddy, I wouldn’t trade ya for a flying horse with a rainbow mane.  Now come on. Let’s get back to the truck.”  	

Shortly after the tender moment between man and dog, the two friends were reunited with the Chevy.  

Ernest ran up to his beloved vehicle and said, “See, I told you we would be back for you, my little troll crusher.”  He patted the truck’s hood affectionately.  “We didn’t find a tow truck . . . or a town, but I think we can fix ya.”

With that, Rimshot climbed into the driver’s seat and popped the hood, chasing off a few bats that had made the truck cab their home.  

As Ernest lifted the hood, he leaned up against the truck and said to his dog smugly, “Now, I bet you’re wondering how I’m going to fix our battle wagon with stuff we borrowed from a witch.”  

The beagle was by Ernest’s side, nodding his head dubiously.  

“I can see you’re a little skeptical, but have no fear, Rimshot.  After all, I am Ernest P. Worrell.  If I am anything, I am resourceful and tenacious with a capital T.  You just sit right there and let the master work.”  

As he said this, the hinges holding the hood up snapped.  The hood slammed down on Ernest’s right hand.  Ernest looked at his hand and then at Rimshot, not quite comprehending what just happened.  He looked from the hood to his dog three more times until he finally screamed, “WWWHHHHAAAAAA!!!!!”

Minutes later after bandaging his hand, Ernest got to work.  Every single thing that the sanitation engineer took from the tree house was nailed, taped, beaten, and wired into place.  Being the flexible man that he was, the Troll Fighter was working literally in the engine compartment. His legs stuck straight up out of the gap between the engine block and the radiator.  Rimshot, to his dying day, never could figure out how his master managed to fit himself in there, much less how he got out.  Rimshot helped by handing Ernest tools and whatever else he needed.  The rest of the time Rimshot spent holding a flashlight between his teeth so Ernest could see.

Finally, as the first light of dawn was cresting the ocean of surrounding trees, Troll Fighter One untangled himself from the engine.  Despite being covered from head to toe with grease, he was grinning from ear to ear.  

“Well, Rimshot, I think we did it.  Come up here and take a look.”  

The agile beagle scampered up the front of the Chevy and beheld his master’s handiwork.  	

“What do you think, boy?” Ernest asked eagerly.

Rimshot took one look at the “fixed” innards of the Chevy and puked.  

“Oh, come on! It doesn’t look that bad!” Ernest scoffed.

When his pet was done dry heaving, Rimshot hopped down from the truck and barked weakly at his master.  

Ernest nodded his head excitedly, “Yeah, I fixed the starter with some sofa stuffing and a quill pen.  It’s over there next to the wooden teapot by the battery. Do you want to see?”  

The dog shook his head and grumbled about his owner’s farfetched mechanical skills.

“Trust me, boy. I know this looks rough, but it will work.  It’s not supposed to be a permanent fix, you know what I mean? Just enough to get us out of the forest.  Speaking of which . . .”Ernest looked all around them. He couldn’t see a clear path to drive his truck out.  The gaps between the trees were too narrow.  

“How in the heck are we . . .” 

Ernest never completed the sentence as three small figures burst out of cover mere feet away.  

“BOO!!!”  they yelled.  

The surprise was complete.  

“WWWHHHHAAAAAA!!!!!”  

Ernest had never screamed so loud in his life.  Rimshot’s fur stood on end as he howled right along with his master.  The sheer volume of the yells and howls caught the newcomers off guard as they screamed a much higher pitched feminine wail.   

The sanitation worker was first to recover as he frantically rummaged around the caldron for his water gun full of milk.  As he brought the weapon to bear on the unknown foes, he got a good look at what he was facing.  Three small trolls clad in black were before him, crouching on their hands and knees. 

Ernest proceeded to drench the tiny trolls in milk, wondering where they had come from.  The only answer that came to him was that the troll he had dispatched earlier had broken into three smaller vicious versions of itself, like an evil Russian nesting doll.  

The trolls sputtered and coughed and wiped the milk from their faces.  

Ernest laughed at their discomfort, “Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh! That’s what you get you nasty trolls.”  	

The Troll Slayer looked down at his dog. “Remember, Rimshot, this is why you never leave home without your weaponized Braum’s dairy products.  Braum’s is not only delicious, it’s lethal.”  

Ernest then squirted some of the milk down this throat, smacking his lips as he did so.  The sanitation engineer’s confidence evaporated as the milk-drenched trolls began to laugh and giggle like little school girls.  

“Oh man, you should have seen your face,” the troll said in-between heaves of laughter pointing at Ernest.  “I didn’t know ponies could scream that loud.” 

“Scootaloo, I told you this was a bad idea! We could have given this poor pony a heart attack.  We’re really sorry,” the troll in the middle said. 

The last troll finally stopped laughing and replied in a southern twang, “Aw, lighten up, Sweetie Belle. We were just foolin around.  I’m sure he understands. He fought back just fine, if ya ask me.  Besides, it’s only a few days till Nightmare Night. How are we gonna get our Cutie Marks in scariest costume makers if we don’t practice?”

The troll apparently named Sweetie Belle replied, “Hmmm, you got a point, Apple Bloom. But I just think maybe we should go about this in a less heart attack inducing way.  I mean, look at him. We scared him so bad, it looks like he drank a whole bottle of Mellow Yellow.  Are you alright?”

Ernest’s head nodded on its own accord while his anxiety and confusion mounted. He stared with terrified eyes at the tiny trolls.  Questions poured into Ernest’s mind so quickly that he was compelled to give voice to them through his legion of personalities.  

“Why ain’t them little troll doggies dead?” he asked in cowboy.

“Is the milk bad?  It wouldn’t surprise me; my son always did have poor taste when it came to dairy,” Auntie Nelda said, sniffing the milk gun in disgust. 

The aircraft gunner in him looked down the weapon’s sights.  “Are Russian commies milk proof?”     

“Where’s the high ground?” Julius Caesar asked. 

“Why are they so small?  Do you smell fish?” the hair stylist side of Ernest asked.

Auntie Nelda sighed, “A woman’s work is never done. It looks like I shall have to do my parental duty and kiss one.  That should kill them.”

The troll called Scootaloo looked worriedly at the tall biped. 

“Uh, guys?” she asked addressing her fellow trolls.  “I think we might want to leave now.”  

The human’s nervous breakdown came to an end suddenly.  He dropped his toy gun and slowly came forward to the fearful trolls.  His arms were outstretched wide in a gesture of friendship.  A crazy smile was plastered on his face.  “Come mere, little fellas. Who wants a hug?”

Screaming, the three small trolls took off running on all fours into the forest.  

Ernest chased after them saying sweetly, “Come back my friends! I love you!”  

He took off after them at a loping jog, Rimshot hot on his heels.

Sweetie Belle, not watching where her hooves were taking her, tripped over a tree branch and fell heavily to the grass.  

“Wait!” she yelled to her friends.  “Come back!  Don’t leave me with--”  

Sweetie Belle squeaked in surprise as she was picked up by the tall yellow biped.

“Aw, just wook at you!” Ernest exclaimed.  “You’re so cute.”  

Ernest then began to dance with the squirming, protesting little troll, hugging her to his chest. 

The troll squeaked angrily, trying to push him away.  “What are you doing?!  Put me down right now! Are you some kind of pedophile?”

Ernest’s eyes grew big.  “What?  NO!  That’s disgusting. You’re a sick little troll.”  

He then returned to talking gently and sweetly.  “Ahem. No, my sweet little troll. I am loving you to death.  Now, pucker up sweetling and say goodnight.”  

The troll let out a piercing scream as the tall pedophile kissed her on the lips, good and long.

Ernest then set the nasty thing on the ground, expecting her to explode spectacularly.  The troll continued to scream and sob.  

“Sweetie Belle! Are you alright?” Apple Bloom raced to join her.  She tore off her ugly troll costume and pulled off Sweetie Belle’s disguise as well.

Ernest took a step back.

Ponies.   They were ponies. Cute and adorable tiny ponies.

Scootaloo tossed aside her costume and shrieked at Ernest, “What the BUCK is the matter with you?”

The tiny white unicorn continued to scream and sob.  The yellow pony tried to calm her down.  And the orange-winged pony . . . well, that one looked like she wanted to kill him.

Not knowing what to make of this changing situation, Ernest just stared dumbfounded. A moment ago they were all trolls.  But now . . . ?  Ernest looked down at Rimshot for an answer.  Instead, he found the dog to be looking up at him for the same thing.

Ernest turned away and ran screaming, “Horse-Trolls! There’s talking horse-troll mutants in the forest!  We can’t kill em! Run for your lives!”

Fleeing in a blind panic, Ernest didn’t see the sturdy tree limb hanging at eye level.  He ran straight into it.  Groaning in pain, Ernest crossed his eyes and slumped face forward onto the forest floor.  Rimshot kept on running, knowing there was nothing he could do for his master against the troll ponies.  He’d just have to come for him later if he was still alive.  Like his owner, he would not leave his friends behind for long.

	

> Guess Who's Nosy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Holy $&*!” Rotnart exclaimed as his small eyes feasted on the beautiful tree before him.  His jaw dropped and he drooled as he thought about what he could do with such a tree.  It was not nearly as big as the oak in Briarville, but the sheer power emanating from the Tree of Harmony was palpable.      

Discord smirked at the troll’s reaction and said, “Your vocabulary fascinates me.  I have never heard words like yours before in all of my days.  I take it that ‘holy $&*!’ means that you approve of my tree?”

Still salivating onto the ground, the enamored troll replied dazedly, “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, freak.” 

The chimera sighed, and a bucket of ice-cold water materialized in his hands.  He then proceeded to throw the water into the troll’s face.

Enraged and soaked, Rotnart drew his sword.  He roared, “I’m gonna cut your balls off and feed them to the squirrels.  I’ll . . . Why am I wet? Did I just piss myself again?”

“Yes, you did. You took one look at the Tree of Harmony and got all excited.”

“Then, why are you holding that bucket?” Rotnart asked, suspiciously.

Discord snapped his fingers, and the container disappeared.  “What bucket?”

By this time, the confused troll’s dilated eyes shrank, and he stopped drooling.  Shaking his head and sheathing his sword, he recovered as gracefully as a troll could, which wasn’t graceful at all.  

Rotnart wiped his mouth and eyes while trying to sound uninterested, “The tree’s alright; nothing special, but it should serve my purpose.” 

“Ri-i-i-ght,” Discord said dryly.  Snapping his fingers, the chimera returned to his chair, quill and notepad in hand.   “Anyways, back to the game.  I believe it’s my turn.”  With his tail, Discord signaled to something behind the troll.

Rotnart heard the excited padding of the chimera’s dog-like couch coming from behind.  The troll let it get closer before he whirled around, picked it up by its legs, and slammed it into the ground.  The furniture shattered into a million pieces.

Discord pouted and said, “Tell me, Rotnart, are your father and all the other trolls as handsome, charming, and mild-mannered as you?”

The troll sat on the ground and began chewing on one of the couch legs.   In-between mouthfuls of large splinters he said, “Yeah, my lot is a hearty bunch who will tell you to eat crap and die if you make us mad.  I inherited all of my dad’s memories, and I’m totally just like him.  Except I’m far more cunning and graceful, and I don’t panic easily.”

Rotnart began to munch on the cushions, “Okay, my turn.  What--” Before Rotnart could fully form his question, he began to cough, hack, and sputter uncontrollably.  

The chimera raised an eyebrow at the troll’s actions.  “Now really, dear Rotnart, how can I answer your question if I can’t understand you?  Use your words and enunciate.  I’d help you out, but I really liked that couch.  It was a gift I stole for myself from Celestia back in the day.”

The panicking troll king ignored Discord after unsuccessfully giving himself the Heimlich maneuver.   Frantically, Rotnart rummaged through his pack, tossing his father’s spell book aside and triumphantly dug out a troll pod.

Discord casually teleported over to the book on the grass.  “Not to be rude,” he said, indifferently, “but I don’t think eating more is going to help.”  

As the chimera was thumbing through the pages, he heard a rumbling sound.  To his surprise another troll had manifested itself.  It was taller than Rotnart, but just as ugly.  By this point, Rotnart had turned a vivid shade of dark purple as he desperately gestured to his younger brother to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him.

The new troll just blinked at his brother.  He then punched Rotnart hard in the stomach.  Rotnart went down like a sack of potatoes, clutching his gut.

By this point, Discord was back in his seat thumbing through the troll king’s book.  Every now and then he glanced up at the fresh chaos unfolding before him while munching popcorn.  The mismatched creature winced in mock sympathy for Rotnart.  It looked like that blow hurt a lot.

The punch seemed to do the trick as the troll king finally hacked and spat out a huge helping of seat cushion.  Taking in a greedy lungful of air, Rotnart got back on his feet and turned to face his brother.

It looked like Rotnart was going to give his sibling a hug in gratitude, but at the last second, he brought up a knee and nailed the younger troll in the groin.  

Mercifully, the three minute old troll fainted in agony after writhing on the ground for twenty seconds, all the while Rotnart was gesturing with his hands.  “This means I’m choking.  And this means give me the Heimlich.  Remember that next time, you moron!”

Discord clapped enthusiastically.  “My goodness, I have never seen anything like that in quite some time.  Not even around Derpy.  It was worth bringing you here just to see that.”

Rotnart clutched his gut in pain as he replied, “F*$% you.  I’d kill you where ya sat if I could.”  Leaving his brother where he lay, Rotnart staggered back to where he had been sitting.  “Okay. . .” he stared at Discord.  “What are you doing with my book?”

Discord looked at him with big innocent eyes. “I’m just keeping it clean for you, your majesty,”   the chimera said as he wiped his buttery hands on the book’s cover.  Discord disappeared as he avoided a sudden tackle from Rotnart.  The troll spat out a mouthful of popcorn as he looked around for the current bane of his existence.    

“I must say, this is an interesting piece of literature.”  The voice came from the Tree of Harmony. Sure enough, Discord was sitting on a branch just out of reach of the troll.  Smugly, Discord asked, “Do you understand what this book says?”

The question brought the king out of his fantasy of strangling the crazed chimera to death.  “What?”

Discord teleported to stand beside the troll. He cracked open the book and showed the troll a random page.  “I asked, do you know the language this book is written in?”

“Bend over, and I’ll show you,” Rotnart replied as he made a grab for the book.  

Discord simply held the book high above his head, out of Rotnart’s reach.  “Okay, okay.  Time out.”  Discord said, as he placed a claw on the troll’s face.  The troll king froze in place, unable to move or speak.

Discord continued, “As much as I like the shenanigans that are going on, the game is suffering in quality.  If I give you back your book, I get to ask another question, and we will pick up where we left off until the game ends.  Agreed?”

Rotnart just stood there as still as a statue, his arms stretched skywards with a look of utter loathing on his ugly face.

“Oh, right,” Discord snapped his fingers and unfroze the troll king.

Rotnart snatched the book from Discord’s clutches, as the chimera asked again, “So, do you know or understand the language of your book?”

Trying not to display too much of his outrage, the troll replied, “No, I don’t know.  And apparently my dad didn’t either.  Just guessing, I think it’s a tongue used by demons. ”

Discord took a long look at Rotnart.  He then started to giggle.  After trying unsuccessfully to stifle his mirth, he began to laugh uncontrollably, rolling around on the ground.

“What’s so funny?”  the troll growled.

The chimera stopped laughing and said, “I can’t believe you and your dad don’t understand it.  It’s so painfully simple, even Applejack could read it.”  Discord then started to laugh even harder than before.

The troll would have tried to kick the mutant while it was down, but something began to appear above him, catching his eye.  Small pink clouds began to materialize overhead.  They hung just below the uppermost branches of the Tree of Harmony.  The longer and harder Discord laughed, the more clouds appeared.  Rotnart couldn’t explain it, but he had a bad feeling about the overhead clouds.  

Sobering, Discord looked up and said, “I’d better get rid of those.  Wouldn’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves.”  

Waving a hand around, he dismissed most of the clouds save for two.  Returning to his feet, the distorted monster materialized a small tea cup and saucer.  The cloud above him began to rain.  Catching the liquid in his cup, Discord took one gulp and smacked his lips in delight.

Rotnart saw that the liquid was creamy, brown, and frothy, almost like . . . .  Rotnart shivered suddenly, although he was not cold at all.  And his left eye began to twitch.  

Nervously the troll asked, “What’cha drinking freak?  I hope it makes you die horribly, whatever it is.”  

After a particularly loud and obnoxious slurp, the chimera replied, “Now, now, your majesty. It’s my turn to ask a question.”  Looking over to where Rotnart’s snoring brother lay, Discord said, “I think I’ll ask him a question instead and put our game on hold for a bit.  Is that all right with you?”

Rotnart chuckled uncertainly, “Be my guest. But I think you’ll have better luck talking to a broken clock.  At least they’re right twice a day. ”

“We’ll see,” Discord said as he pointed to the other cloud hovering nearby and directed it to a position above the sleeping troll.  The cloud then began to rain the same substance upon the head of the slumbering being.

The sleeping troll immediately began to dissolve into a puddle of ooze until nothing was left.

Rotnart’s heart stopped beating, and his eyes became very white and wide with fear.  He felt a powerful urge to empty his bladder again.  He realized then just how screwed he really was.  That thing could make it rain milk and kill him whenever it wanted to. 

Discord looked to Rotnart, and back to the puddle that used to be a troll, trying to conjure an answer to what just happened.  Finally, the chimera asked in a confused voice, “Uh, Rotnart, what just happened?  All I did was make it rain chocolate milk on him, and he melted.  Was he a troll snowpony or something?”

The troll king was nearly foaming at the mouth in fright.  If something wasn’t done soon, he’d be killed by Discord by accident or for the fun of it.  In the span of a few seconds, a desperate plan formed in his panicking mind.  Shaking his head and steeling himself, he held out an outstretched hand to the chimera.  “Guess who’s nosy?!  You win, Discord.”

This got Discord’s attention as he wrenched his gaze from the troll-puddle.  “Interesting. You’ve never called me by my name before, and on top of that, you’re quitting the game. Why?”

Sweating profusely, the troll king replied, “I--I don’t have to answer any more questions!  We’ve hit on a thing I don’t want to talk about, and now I have to do something for you.”  The words came out faster than a woodpecker hammering a tree branch.  “Let’s shake on it like the good . . . uh, people we are.”

Discord’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he looked at Rotnart’s outstretched hand.  He grinned, “Alright, I accept your defeat.  I got just the thing I want you to do for me.”  The misshapen being then grasped the troll king’s hand and shook it.  To Discord’s surprise, the troll had a very strong grip, so strong, in fact, that he was beginning to lose feeling in his paw.

The chimera was about to comment on this, when to his horror, he found that he couldn’t move, speak, or use his magic.  He was frozen, just like what he had done to Rotnart moments before.

Slowly but surely, Discord’s body began to shrink and turn to wood.   As this happened, the milk-clouds shrank and disappeared all together.  Discord became a one foot tall wooden doll.  He lay, tiny and wooden, in Rotnart’s fist, still holding his tea cup full of chocolate milk.   

The troll king let out a huge sigh of relief.  “Oh, thank Trantor this worked.  I didn’t want to die by a freaking cloud.”  

Rotnart howled with delight.  Drunk with victory, he looked at the wooden statue in his hand and said, “I otta burn you and do the world a favor.  But maybe I can use you, freak.  Maybe there’s still power inside your splintery hide.  We’ll have to see about that.”

With that, the victorious troll king put the Discord doll in his bag and gathered the rest of his supplies. Taking a load off his feet, he sat down in the chimera’s overstuffed chair and picked up the notepad.  Rotnart leafed through the pages, and to his surprise, Discord hadn’t been taking notes at all.  Instead, he found drawing after drawing of a winged unicorn with a sun on its flank in suggestive and lewd positions.  

The troll king raised an eyebrow at this and grunted, “Okay, not what I expected.”  

He pocketed the notebook and reclined in the comfortable chair.  

For a long time Rotnart looked at the Tree of Harmony, admiring it in all its powerful glory.  A gust of wind made it look like the tree was trembling in fright.  He smiled and said sleepily, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be gentle.”

> In the Bowels of the Troll Mutant Lab
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Run!  Rimshot, run!”  Ernest awoke with a start, throwing white linen sheets off his body.  The dream he had just had was far from pleasant.  It had involved running from three giant centaur-like trolls through an endless forest.  Each of the trolls wanted to do him harm, especially the white one with a pink and purple mane.  That one looked especially mad.

Ernest surveyed his new surroundings.  He found himself in a small, plain white room that had the distinct odor of a hospital.  

“Eee-hee-ewww,” Ernest’s jaw worked from side to side as he sniffed the air.  

He didn’t like the smell of hospitals; that’s one of the reasons he tended to avoid them.  After all, hospitals were for other people who got hurt, not for real men like Ernest P. Worrell.  Men of steel, men of courage, and men who don’t go to hospitals ‘cause they’re icky and full of people that want to shove sharp needles in you and say that it won’t hurt a bit.  

Looking down at himself, he saw that he was dressed in a disgusting puke-green hospital gown.  But on the bright side, his skin was no longer the color of a ripe lemon.  Ernest shook his head at the hospital’s choice of color as he climbed out of bed. As he did so, throbbing pain in the back of his skull nearly caused him to black out.  

“Owww!  This hurts worse than going through the business end of my garbage truck, twice.” 

He discovered that his head was covered in bandages.  “That’s funny.  I don’t remember . . . wait a minute.” Reality finally settled in on the human, as his brain recalled what happened to him last night.   

“Oh, no!  I’ve been captured by the troll-horse mutants!” Ernest exclaimed suddenly.   “I’ve got to find that book Old Lady Hackmore gave me; maybe it’s got a section on troll mutants.” 

A rough plan began to form in his mind.

He began to count off on his fingers, “Okay, all I got to do is bust out of this room, grab my clothes and the book, sneak out of . . .this troll mutant hide out, find Rimshot, whip up something that kills tiny horse-trolls, find my truck, find a way back to Briarville, and arrive just in time for Vern’s niece’s birthday party.”

Ernest laughed nervously to himself.  “Eh-heh-heh-heh, lucky for me I have the element of surprise.”

At that moment the door to the human’s room opened.  Ernest recoiled in surprise, tripping over a thankfully empty bedpan.  

Two ponies stepped in.  One was wearing a doctor’s coat, while the other was wearing a nurse’s uniform.  The horse that looked like a doctor told the nurse, “Miss Red Heart, please help Mr. Worrell back into bed.  It’s time for his treatment.”

Before the nurse could get to Ernest, the slippery human had already scampered back into bed and slid out the other side, trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the ponies.

“Don’t come any closer you two.  I’m friends with the big man upstairs.”  The sanitation engineer made a cross with his two index fingers to try and ward off the evil he believed was coming from the ponies.  Unfortunately, it had little effect on the four-legged creatures.

“Mr. Worrell, please get back into bed,” Nurse Red Heart said patiently.  “You are suffering from a concussion and a Mellow Yellow overdose.  You’re probably hallucinating right now.” She tried to get past the bed that Ernest was wheeling around to block her.  Meanwhile, the doctor was readying a syringe filled with a bright purple fluid.

Ernest considered this and asked, “So, you’re not talking horses or mutants in hospital uniforms?  Is that what you’re trying to tell me?  Because this would make a lot more sense if you’d tell me that, you know what I mean?”

Nurse Red Heart sighed tiredly, “No, we really are real ponies, in a real hospital, wearing real uniforms.”  

In reply, Ernest pointed a finger at her defiantly.  “Yeah, I just bet you’d like for me to believe that.  You troll-mutants brought me here to your secret troll laboratory to dissect me because I kissed your daddy troll and he exploded.  Well, my friend, let me tell you something; Old Stunty McSquid Lips had it comin.’  What do you say to that?”    

The nurse replied deadpan, “I’d say you’re a few colors short of a rainbow, if you were thinking clearly.  Now get in the bed!”  the nurse commanded, “or you won’t get any dessert tonight!”

The human’s eyes grew wide with surprise.  He had been shouted at before, but this was like being yelled at by his mom.  Despite Ernest towering over the pony, the biting command in her voice almost compelled him to obey her.  Almost. 

Ernest shook his head to clear his mind, which he immediately regretted because it sent new waves of pain and nausea from his head down into the pit of his stomach.

Despite the discomfort, the Troll Fighter continued, “Nice try mutant, but you’re gonna have to use your mind control powers better than that to get the drop on old Ernest.”

While rubbing his eyes in exasperation, the doctor pony put down the syringe and turned around to face the troublesome biped.  “We don’t have time for this.  Mr. Worrell, if you would please cooperate and let us help you, I will prove to you that we are not mutants, trolls, or whatever else you claim that we are.  We’re ponies, but we won’t hurt you.  I promise you everything will be explained.”

Ernest’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he processed the doctor’s words.  He relaxed slightly and asked, “Alright, but if you’re not mutants, then how do you know my name?  Can you read my brain?  Did you suck the information out of me with a thought-sucking vacuum?”  Ernest gasped as he asked, “Did you probe me?  You probed me, didn’t you?”  

The doctor fished out a card from one of the pockets on his white uniform and handed it to Ernest.  It was the human’s driver’s license. 

“Oh.”  Ernest said.  He coughed and quickly changed the subject.  “You’re lucky I didn’t attack the two of you the second you came through the door.  Otherwise I’d put you both in my famous Worrell headlock.  It’s where I grab you by the neck, spin you around, and . . .”

Ernest continued talking as nurse Red Heart gently helped him back into bed.  She nodded her head every now and then, pretending she was paying attention to the biped’s ramblings.  

Then the doctor was by Ernest’s side with the syringe.  The human’s lips puckered in terror as he saw the unfriendly device.  “Hey, wait a second!  You didn’t say anything about a needle.  I’m--I’m allergic to needles!  Ask my nurse friend at Kamp Kikakee.  She hasn’t given me a shot since the last time.”

To Ernest’s shock, he found that he could not rise from the bed.  The nurse pony was surprisingly strong for her size as she wordlessly held the human down with seemingly little effort.	

The doctor smiled and said, “Relax.  This won’t hurt a bit.”

“Yeah, well I don’t see people lining up outside the door to get shot.   What does that tell ya?”  Ernest replied frantically as his hand gripped something metallic.

To him it felt like a small lever. 

Before the doctor pony could inject Ernest with the purple substance, the Troll Fighter gave the lever a hard yank.

The bed tilted upwards and Ernest slid down the improvised ramp, escaping the clutches of nurse Red Heart who was left holding Ernest’s hospital gown.   

Coming to a smooth stop on the tiled floor, Ernest got to his feet in a hurry yelling, “WHHAAAAHHH!  Cold floor!  Cold floor!”

Recovering from the antics of their now nude patient, the doctor and the nurse pursued Ernest out of the room.  Looking left and right down the hallway, they didn’t see hide or hair of the tall biped.  The nurse took off down one end of the hallway while the doctor raced down the other.

As the two ponies went their separate ways, a door opened a few feet away.  Out stepped an old, cranky lady wearing a neck brace, leaning heavily on a walker.  “That’s the story of my life.  One minute I’m out having a pleasant walk in the woods, the next I’m waking up in a hospital that’s staffed by talking quadrupeds.  I must be sure to file a complaint with this establishment’s manager on my way out for hiring such unsanitary creatures.”

Auntie Nelda slowly but surely made her way to the elevator.  Right before she pushed the button, the doors opened and several male ponies dressed like hospital orderlies rushed out.  The old lady raised an eyebrow as she watched them go.  “Typical behavior of the youth these days, not even bothering to hold the doors open for an old lady in need of assistance.  I weep for the future of this generation.”

From inside the elevator another old lady’s voice was heard.  “Oh them fellars ain’t so bad.  I heard a rumor that a six foot tall streaker has done escaped his room on this here level.  I reckon that’s why they’re in such a powerful hurry.”

The old lady with the walker poked her head in the elevator and saw an aged, light green pony with an apple pie on her flank holding the door for her.

Auntie Nelda slowly made her way into the elevator.  “Is that right?  Well, I certainly hope they catch that fellow.  Heaven knows there’s enough insanity outside these walls.  We don’t need any more in here, especially with these incompetent know-it-all doctors and nurses.”

The other pony laughed, “Heh, heh, Amen sister.”  She turned to face the newcomer and offered Auntie Nelda her hoof as the elevator doors closed.  “Granny Smith of the Apple Family.  Are ya new here? I’ve never seen you at the physical therapy sessions before.”

Auntie Nelda awkwardly tried to shake the old pony’s hoof with her heavily bandaged hand.  “It’s a pleasure, my dear.  It’s nice to find a fellow citizen who’s been around the proverbial block a time or two and lived to tell about it.  I’m Auntie Nelda, and I apologize for all this repulsive gauze.  I must look like a mummy’s mummy. I’ve just had a rather unpleasant surgery on my face, as well as some other extremities.  Those namby, pamby physicians said I had to stay in bed and relax, but I found sleep hard to come by with all the noise in this bloody place.”

Granny Smith snickered, “Yeah, there’s always some sort of hoot-a-nanny going on here.  I hear Pinkie Pie will be entertaining us old folks at dinner time. Then this place will really get to hoppin.’  I don’t blame ya at tall fer wanting to flex yer bones till then.  Why today, I had this here hip replaced with one of them fancy, new-fangled magic plastic ones.”  She then leaned in close and whispered to Auntie Nelda, “Now don’t tell anypony, but I ain’t really supposed to be up and about neither.  If my grand younguns knew about this, they’d rake me over the coals.”  She snickered again and said, “I’m sure glad that other pony broke out and gave me this here chance to escape.”

Auntie Nelda nodded her head.  “Yes, perhaps he isn’t that ill-natured after all.  Just misunderstood, like my son.  He’s always getting himself into trouble.  I was blessed with two children you see; one good and one bad, and wouldn’t you know it, the good one dies.”

Granny Smith opened her mouth and closed it abruptly, unsure of how to respond.  Thankfully, the elevator doors opened on the ground level.  Quickly she said, “Oh, will ya look at that?  This here is my stop.”  As Granny Smith walked out of the elevator, she said to Auntie Nelda, “Well, friend, it was good visitin with ya.  But I best be gettin on to the Little Fillies’ room.”

Auntie Nelda waved at her as the pony hobbled out of the elevator.  “Tah, tah, Granny Smith, until our next encounter.”

Looking ahead, Auntie Nelda saw that the hospital lobby was packed with noisy ponies.  Auntie Nelda grumbled, “It figures that son of mine would dump his poor mother off at an animal shelter to be put down.  I at least like to think I have many years of life left in me and do not need to be euthanized just yet.”

As Auntie Nelda slowly made her way to the exit, three ponies stepped through the entrance.  One of them was so excited she could hardly contain her enthusiasm.   The pony was attracting the attention of everyone in the hospital.

“Pinkie, calm down,” the winged unicorn at her side hissed.  “We don’t want to make a scene.”

“Sorry, Twilight, I can’t help it.  This is my first time in a long-long-long–long-long while throwing a Pinkie Party here at the hospital, and I want everything to be perfect.”  She started to breathe into a paper bag to calm herself down.	

“You had a party here last Tuesday,” Twilight replied dryly.

“So long!” Pinkie Pie gasped.

Twilight rolled her eyes, “Focus, Pinkie.  We all need to be calm when we meet this creature the Cutie Mark Crusaders ran into last night.”  This last sentence was directed more to Twilight’s other companion, a white unicorn with a curled violet mane.

The white unicorn replied in a clipped and proper manner, “Point taken, Twilight.  Now let’s get this over with.  I want to look this pervert in the eye as I choke him with my own two hooves.”

She stood up on her hind legs and mimed strangling the perpetrator.

Twilight frowned, “Rarity, no! We can’t just jump to conclusions about what happened.  We need to hear his side of the story.  We don’t have all the facts yet.”

Pinkie Pie chimed in excitedly, “Yeah, Twilight’s right.  I mean it’s not as if Sweetie Belle’s experience will scar her for the rest of her life.  I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

Rarity glared at the pink pony.  “It most certainly won’t be alright.  My sister and her friends were brutally attacked.  This monster must pay for its crimes!”

As the three friends and Auntie Nelda crossed paths, Pinkie Pie bumped into the tall old lady leaning on the walker.  

“Whoops, sorry, Ma’am.”

“Think nothing of it, dear.  I went through the same stages of nicotine withdrawal myself when I decided to quit smoking a few decades ago.  I was as jittery and jumpy as a fly in a bug spray factory.  It is a long and painful process, but keep at it.  You’ll survive,” Auntie Nelda said.

Pinkie Pie blinked and replied, “Uh, thanks?  Hey, my name’s Pinkie Pie.  You’re new to Ponyville, aren’t you?”

The old lady shook Pinkie’s hoof.  “Well, you caught me.  I am indeed new . . . Well, I used to be, eighty years ago.  I’m Auntie Nelda, and I’m charmed to meet you.  Now if you’ll please excuse me, I believe I left my truck running in the parking lot.”

Twilight and Rarity exchanged alarmed glances.  

Unperturbed Pinkie Pie continued, “Oh, this is great!  You have to come to Sugarcube Corner so we can throw you a proper Ponyville welcome party!  By the way, what’s a truck?”

Auntie Nelda raised an eyebrow.  “Hmmm, I see that the school system in this part of the state hasn’t been doing its job very well.  I would stay here and enlighten you about the wonders of modern-day transportation, but alas, my truck is suffering from heat stroke.  Now, if you would please step aside, I shall be on my way.”

Not moving, Pinkie asked, “Is a truck a thingy made of metal, standing on four rubbery wheels, and has a whole bunch of random stuff sticking out the front of it?”

“Yes, that sounds like it.  That mechanic son of mine claims to have fixed my vehicle by modifying the engine.  Frankly, I think the only thing he’s done is make a minor problem ten times worse.  He’s got a terrible habit of doing that.  I wonder where he is now?  He was supposed to pick his poor old mother up from the hospital twenty minutes ago.  Instead, he’s probably out hot-rodding or doing whatever else his raging hormones need him to do.”

Pinkie Pie smiled and declared, “I think I know where your truck is.”  

“You’re the creature that the Crusaders encountered last night, aren’t you?” Twilight grunted, struggling to hold Rarity back.  The white unicorn was livid.

Knowing that the game was up, Auntie Nelda stood upright without aid and said in an annoyed masculine voice, “Oh, well.  It was getting pretty hot in this monkey suit anyway, you know what I mean?”

All three ponies stared with their mouths open as they watched Auntie Nelda transform into a man as she removed her bandages and dress.  Standing before them was a tall biped in blue jeans, a grey T-shirt, and a denim vest.   The human then fished out a hat from his jeans pocket, put it on his bandaged head, and said enthusiastically, “The name’s Ernest P. Worrell, ladies, and it is nice to meet ya.”

As Ernest held out his hand he found himself on the ground underneath the four hooves of the white unicorn with violet hair.  The last thing he saw was a hoof slamming into his face.

> The Royal Camelot Voice
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie gave Rarity disapproving glares as she entered Ernest’s room.  The fashionista winced.  Perhaps she had gone too far by punching the ridiculous cross-dresser in his revolting face.  It certainly caused an uproar among the staff and other ponies in the lobby.  If not for Twilight intervening, security would have escorted Rarity out of the building.  Rarity sighed.  No, all that was certainly unbecoming of a lady.  She did not have to like this uncouth creature, nor forgive him.  But for the sake of her friends, she would tolerate him. 

The now calm pony came to the foot of the bed, and glanced at Ernest.  Strangely, the human was grinning broadly, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.  The smile made the violet-maned unicorn angry all over again. 

“I’m not sorry,” Rarity said to the girls.  “I’m not sorry, and furthermore, I’m not apologizing.”

Ernest groaned and mumbled in his sleep, “Hey ,Vern, when did ya get a new neighbor?”  Ernest’s grin widened.  “She sounds pretty cute.  Have ya asked her out yet?  I bet she’s as nice as a hot fudge sundae on a summer’s day.  You know what I mean?” 

Twilight fought not to laugh as Rarity’s cheeks turned bright pink.  Pinkie Pie showed no such restraint as she guffawed at the creature’s statement.  

“I think he likes you, Rarity,” Pinkie teased as she hopped about the room.  “Yep, there’s romance in the air.”

Rarity rounded on the pink earth pony.  “What?  No!  Not in a million years!  Especially not after what he did to poor Sweetie Belle!”

“Yeah, that’s a little creepy,” Pinkie admitted.  “We’ll have to talk to him about that.  Him kissing ponies might not go over well at the party.”

Twilight’s ears perked up.  “Party?  What Party?”

“The one I’m having for Ernest at Sugar Cube Corner later today. Duh,” Pinkie said, rolling her eyes.

“Uh, Pinkie? I’ve been thinking,” Twilight began.

“Yeah, you always do.  That’s why you’re so smart!”  Pinkie exclaimed, as she gave Twilight a playful noogie.  “What’s on your mind, Smartypants?”

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea to have a party for Ernest,” Twilight answered slowly.

Pinkie Pie gave Twilight a wounded look.  “But, that’s what I do for every pony new to Ponyville.  It wouldn’t be right if we didn’t have a party for him.”

“But, darling, if what Twilight suspects is true, then this. . .” Rarity paused, tapping her hoof against her chin.  “Oh, what’s the word?”

“Human,” Twilight offered.

“Thank you,” Rarity nodded.  “This human doesn’t belong here.  He’s already attacked my sister and the rest of the Crusaders.  Celestia only knows what he’ll do next.  I say we put him on the first train to Canterlot as soon as he wakes up and let the Princesses deal with him.” 

Twilight glared at her.  “I’m a princess.”

“Oh! Yes, of course you are, Sweetie,” Rarity grinned and patted her wings.

Twilight rolled her eyes and snorted. 

“But we can’t send him away yet.  He’s hurt.  And a party might be what he needs to feel better,” Pinkie pleaded with Twilight.  “I don’t think he’s a bad pony.  He’s just far away from home and needs some help.  Didn’t the humans of Canterlot High help you get your crown back, Twilight?”

“Yes.  They did,” Twilight said thoughtfully.  She sighed and continued, “Alright, I think we can show him some generosity,” she nodded to Rarity who gritted her teeth, “for a couple of days without too many problems. . . if he behaves himself.”

Pinkie pumped her hoof in the air.  “Yesss, party at Sugar Cube Corner!”

“Let’s keep the guest list small, okay, Pinkie?  Nopony can know what he is,” Twilight continued.	

Pinkie Pie nodded happily, while Rarity pouted. “Fine, but don’t come whining to me if this turns out badly.”

The tall creature began to stir.  His eyes were screwed shut as if he was having a bad dream.  

Noticing this, Twilight shushed her two friends.  “I think he’s waking up.”

The three ponies drew closer to the bed expecting Ernest to open his eyes.  Instead, the creature lifted up one his legs and let out a colossal fart. 

“Oh, sweet Celestia!!!”  Rarity cried as the invisible cloud of odiferous fumes spread.  She ran over to one of the windows and threw it open.  She sucked in lungfuls of sweet smelling outside air. 

Twilight instantly materialized a force field around herself.  

Pinkie began running around the room with a huge empty pickle jar, laughing.  “Oh, wow!  That stinks!”  

“Pinkie, what are you doing?” Twilight asked.

“I’m collecting this smell for later.  This stuff is too good to waste.”

Ernest sat up abruptly; all the commotion had finally woke him up. “That dog is going to get it.  How many times do I have to tell that beagle not to have company over while I’m asleep?”  he grumbled to himself as he sat up, massaging his throbbing temples.  “All his friends do is make a mess.  They howl at the moon, watch ‘Underdog’ over and over again, break windows, and pee on the furniture.  I’m . . . .” Ernest noticed the three ponies.  One had her head stuck out a window and was glaring at him with hate-filled eyes.  Another had a pinkish bubble around her body as she looked at him curiously.  And the last pony was trying to coax air into a large jar.    

Ernest didn’t even raise an eyebrow at the scene before him.  This was obviously a dream.  Then he shook with terror.   This was no dream.  He recognized the ponies that blew his cover and attacked him during his escape attempt.  The Troll Slayer searched for something to throw or defend himself with.  Perhaps a sword or a lemon cream pie.  Seeing nothing within reach, he laughed nervously, “Eh, heh, heh, heh, can I help you ladies?  If you’re looking for that handsome devil who escaped earlier, he’s in the next room over.  I’m . . . uh, his twin brother.  Yeah, my name’s Tom.  Tom Bobby.  Please don’t hurt me.”  

Twilight Sparkle slowly walked up and stood beside the cowering creature.  She dropped her shield for a moment, sniffed the air, and immediately put it back up.  She gagged at the smell.  Struggling to maintain a diplomatic smiling face she said, “Don’t be afraid Mr. Worrell.  No pony is going to hurt you.   I am Princess Twilight Sparkle, and on behalf of Equestria, welcome to Ponyville.”  

The winged unicorn brought down her force field around one of her hoofs and offered it to Ernest.  Ernest glanced at the appendage dubiously, unsure of how to proceed.  However, being the gentleman he prided himself on, he gently took the hoof in both of his hands and kissed it lightly.  He grinned, “It’s good to meet you ma’am.  My name’s Ernest, Ernest P. Worrell, not Tom Bobby.  Tom and Bobby are good friends of mine back home.”

Twilight’s smile wavered as the creature’s lips pressed against her hoof.  She would have to remember to take an extra long bath when she got back to the library.  The alicorn nodded her head at Ernest’s introduction.  “Yes, Doctor Brighthoof told us all about you.  They said that you were, were . . . uh, different.” 

Growing more comfortable with his new guests, Ernest asked, “Yeah, speaking of the doc, where is he?”  He then added quickly, “Uh, not that I mind you three being here.”  Noticing a foul stench in the air he inquired, “You smell that?” 

By this time Rarity had pulled her head back through the window and replied tersely, “Doctor Brighthoof is trying to find Granny Smith.  Apparently she wandered off when you tried to escape.” 

Ernest smiled, “Yep, that’s her.  Good ol’ Granny.  You know me and her go way back.”

Before Rarity could growl out a reply, Twilight interjected, “Mr. Worrell—”

“Call me Ernest.  My dad’s Mr. Worrell, and he wouldn’t let ya forget it either.”

“Okay, Ernest,” Twilight began.  “We have some questions for you.  First of all, where did you come from?  You’re the only human that has ever set hoof in Equestria . . . as far as I know.”

The Troll Slayer thought about this before replying.  His eyebrows rose as he whispered, “Oh, my gosh, the masks were right.”  In a louder voice he asked, “Is Equestria somewhere in Missouri?”

“Where’s Missouri?”  Twilight responded curiously.

Ernest nodded, “That’s what I was afraid of.  That troll must have took us out of the states . . .  I must be in England, where all the weird fantasy King Arthur stuff happens.  Camelot must be nearby.”

“Yes, it is! Yes, it is! Canterlot is about an hour’s train ride from here.”  Pinkie Pie said excitedly, bouncing up and down as she sealed her reeking container.

“Is it really?  Gosh, I’ve always wanted to go there and be a knight,” Ernest said, wistfully.  “My folks and friends said I couldn’t because . . . well you know, they said it wasn’t real.  But that never stopped me from pretending.  I think I could fit in pretty good in Camelot.  You three wanna hear my royal Camelot voice?  I’ve been practicing.”

“Oh, uh, no thanks, Ernest, that won’t be . . . .”  Twilight protested but Ernest gave her an example anyway. 

In a loud Scottish accent he cried, “Laddies, it be a dark day in our fair town!  The blasted Ottoman hordes are knocking at the bloody doors of Worrell’s Hold itself!  We need lads of courage and bravery to meet them in battle with our Botswanaian brothers.  We shall not go willingly into that black night, if ye know what I mean?”

A tear ran down Pinkie’s cheek as she sniffed, “That was beautiful.”

Rarity looked at Pinkie, “Surely you’re joking, darling!”

“No, I could hear the emotion and drama in his voice,” Pinkie insisted.  “He must have been a poet or an actor where he comes from.”

Ernest blushed and said, “Actually, I’m a sanitation engineer back home, but thanks anyway.”

“You’re a garbage pony?  Why am I not surprised?”  Rarity asked.

Twilight shot her a dirty look before saying, “Ernest, that was, um, good.  I’m sure you would fit right in.  Anyway, you said something about following a troll here.   Can you tell us about that?” 

“Oh, him? I took care of that problem.  Ya see, a real long time ago, my great-granddaddy Reverend Phenias Worrell planted this really nasty, ugly, slimy, . . . . “  

Rarity let out an impatient sigh.

Getting the hint, Ernest continued, “You get the picture.  There was a troll beneath an oak tree. This stunted devil was turning kids into little wooden dolls to create an army of trolls.  Well, a couple of days ago, I. . . kinda accidently let him out.”

“Why in Celestia’s name did you do that?”  Rarity asked dubiously, not at all believing what Ernest was saying.

“It was an accident,” Ernest said quickly, like he was about to be punished.  “Me and some of my buddies built a fort in that same tree on Halloween.  And I said accidentally, ‘Yea I call thee Forth Trantor.’  And then I accidentally thumped the tree three times.  Just like this.”

Ernest slapped his hand on a wooden nightstand once, twice, and on the third time there was a loud bang.  Twilight, Rarity, and Ernest screamed in terror.  Glitter, confetti, and balloons rained down.

Twilight looked behind her and saw that Pinkie Pie had produced her party cannon and had just fired it.  

“Pinkie!  What are you doing?”  Rarity yelled furiously.

“I’m practicing for the hospital party.  My party cannon has to be in perfect working Pinkie perfection.  Now if you will excuse me, I am very busy.  Parties don’t practice themselves.”   

Twilight took a deep breath and let it out slowly, just the way Princess Cadence had taught her as she dropped her magic barrier. 
Between Ernest, Pinkie, and Rarity, her nerves and patience were being worn thin.  

Meanwhile, Rarity was forgoing calming breathing exercises.  Instead, she was contemplating murder.  The fashionista was having trouble deciding who she wanted to strangle more, Pinkie or Ernest.

“So, what happened to this troll you ‘accidentally’ freed?”  Twilight asked, using her hooves to make air quotes.  “Should we be worried about it?”  

Rarity gave Twilight a disbelieving stare.  “Surely you’re not taking his story seriously! Why, this is nothing more than the ravings of a lunatic!”

Twilight held up a hoof.  “I want to hear what he has to say.”    

“Well, long story short, the troll managed to grab five kids, including my fort building buddies, and turned them into dolls.  He put those kid-dolls in his tree.  I think he used his magic to change that tree into a troll fruit tree.   These big brussel sprouts started to fall from it and turn into more trolls.  Is all of this making sense so far?”

Pinkie Pie nodded her head vigorously as she reloaded her party cannon.  

Rarity growled, “No, not at all.” 

Twilight bit her lip.  “Uh . . . it’s interesting, Ernest, but  . . .?” 

“Oh, what happened to Trantor?  I gave him a big hug and a kiss and he exploded.  Ya see, we were getting rid of his brussel sprout kids by throwing milk at them; they hate milk.  I think they also hate authentic Bulgarian Miak, but I never got to try that out.  Anyway, Trantor the troll somehow all of a sudden got really strong, really quick.  You know this would be easier to explain if I had the book.  I can’t remember exactly what it said.”

“You mean that huge old book that was with the rest of your stuff?  That’s yours?”  Twilight asked fascinated.

“No, I’m just borrowing it from Old Lady Hackmore.  If you want to know anything about trolls or really weird creepy scary stuff, she’s the lady to talk to.”  Ernest then looked to his left and right as he whispered, “Just between you three, me, and the walls, I think she’s nuttier than a fruitcake made out of nuts.  Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us,” Rarity replied sarcastically.  

Ernest let out a sigh of relief. 

While Rarity rolled her eyes, Twilight asked, “Can you describe the passage in the book you’re thinking about?”

“Oh.  Yeah, it pretty well says if you want to get rid of your average troll, use milk.  But to get rid of a super strong scary troll you need the heart of a child and a mother’s care.  That’s why I went up to old hammer head and gave him a big sloppy one on the lips and told him he was cute.”

Before Rarity could rip into Ernest on kissing things, Twilight asked, “So you’ve actually kissed a troll, and it exploded?” 

Ernest nodded.  “Yep, that’s what happened.   It took me a while to figure it out.  However, I am Ernest P. Worrell.  I am the local authority when it comes to dispatching trolls and other supernatural critters.  There has never been a vampire, zombie, or goblin that I haven’t defeated.”

Rarity asked dryly, “And have you ever come across a vampire, zombie, goblin, or a troll?”

Not able to look the unicorn in the eye, Ernest replied, “Uh, well, not so much on the vampires, zombies, and goblins.  It’s mainly just trolls, but I’m pretty sure I could take on other supernatural stuff.”

“So, how did you get here?” Twilight asked.

For the first time Twilight saw uncertainty enter Ernest’s eyes. “I don’t really know, Your Majesty.  When me and some of the local folks attacked the trolls at their home tree, we won.  The dolls turned back into kids, but during the mopping up, one troll opened some kind of swirly magic thingie to here.  I followed him to this real wooded area.  We had a duel, and I won.  So, there are no more trolls here.”

Ernest then sat straight up in bed like he had just remembered something very important.  “Except for those three little troll mutants I 
saw last night!”

Rarity hissed, “Those weren’t mutants, you imbecile.  That was my sister and her two friends you attacked!”

The Troll Fighter sank back into his bed.  A shameful look came over him.  “Oh that explains a lot. I’m sorry, Miss Rarity.  It was dark, and they were wearing scary costumes, and Rimshot and I were busy fixing the truck, and . . .”

Ernest looked at all three ponies, concern written all over his features.  “Rimshot!  Have you three seen my dog?  He’s real small, comes up to about here, is white with brown spots, likes MTV, hates the Brady Bunch, loves hamburgers and hotdogs . . . don’t ask.  Have you seen him?”

All three ponies shook their heads.  

“I’m sure he’s alright.  He might be at Fluttershy’s cottage.  She’s our resident animal expert.  If anypony can find Rimshot, she can,” Twilight proclaimed.

This seemed to make Ernest feel better.

To change the subject, the sanitation engineer asked Twilight, “Is there anyway to get me and Rimshot back home, Your Majesty?  I might have a job waiting for me at a high school that I’m pretty excited about.”

Ernest’s statement got the ponies’ attention.  “Did you say high school, as in Canterlot High School?”  Twilight asked.

Ernest rubbed his forehead tenderly as he replied, “I can’t remember the name of the school, but that sounds right.   I’m good with kids, and I’m good at cleaning up messes  . . . both theirs and mine.  I’ve had a lot of practice.”

The three ponies looked at each other with mutual understanding.  A warm smile was on Twilight’s face as she said, “Ernest, I think we can get you home.  There is a portal to Canterlot High located in the Crystal Empire that opens every full moon.  The next full moon is in two days.   My friends and I will come with you to the Crystal Empire and make sure you get home safely.”

Ernest smiled from ear to ear.  “Thank you, Your Majesty.  I. . . I. . . don’t know what to say.  Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Before Twilight could reply, Pinkie piped up, reading a clipboard.  “Nah, I’m good.  But, if I were you, I’d have the doctors get rid of those worms and gingivitis.  And while they were at it, you could ask about that spastic colon of yours.  Personally I wouldn’t, you sound great.  I wish I had that kind of a random colon.”

“Pinky!”  Twilight yelled.  “That’s his private medical information.  You’re not supposed to see that.”  

Rarity made a disgusted face and chimed in, “Much less share it with us.”

Ernest was almost embarrassed to the point of tears when he said, “Oh, it ain’t no big deal.        Although that spastic colon is a new one on me.”

As Ernest recovered from his shame, a thought occurred to him.  “What else did you three find in the forest besides that book and my truck?”

Twilight blew her bangs from her face before answering.  “Nothing really.”

Ernest debated whether to tell her about his adventure at Zecora’s hut.  Ernest nodded.  “Okey doke.” 

“Well, Ernest, since you’ll be staying in Ponyville for a bit, there are some rules that you’re going to have to follow,” Twilight said, standing up and beginning to pace.

“Your wish is my command, Your Highness.”

The princess laughed as she said, “You don’t have to call me that, Ernest.”  Twilight muttered to herself darkly.  “It’s not like any pony else does. . .”

The ponies and human stared at the princess quizzically.

“But thanks anyway,” she continued brightly.  “Okay, rule number one.  You can’t tell anypony that you’re a human.”

Ernest gave the Princess a worried look.  “Why not?  Are humans sacrificed here?  Am I gonna be eaten if other horses find out how tasty I am?  You don’t wanna eat me, Princess.  I’m nothing but skin and bone . . . with some muscle.  I’ve been trying to work out in the gym, but it’s hard to find the time, you know what I mean?  And . . .”  

Shaking her head, Twilight yelled, “NO!  No, Ernest, we don’t want to eat you.  The fact of the matter is, you’re not supposed to be here.  If ponies found out that a human was here, it might cause a panic.  It’s real easy to start a panic in Ponyville.  A couple of years ago a herd of rabbits came through Ponyville.  It took hours to calm everypony down.  It was pathetic.  Until you get home, Ernest, you are a pony in a costume practicing for Nightmare Night.”

“What’s Nightmare Night?”  asked Ernest.

“It’s great.”  Pinkie answered happily.   “It’s where you run around all over Ponyville asking random ponies for candy.  You get to dress up in a costume and play all sorts of games and scare anypony you come across.  

“Oh, it’s like Halloween,” Ernest mused.  “Yeah, I can pretend I’m in an Ernest costume for a couple of days.  What else do you want me to do, Your Highness?

“Rule Two:  Don’t kiss anypony else while you’re here, and Rule Three:  Stay out of trouble.  If you follow these simple rules, everything will be just fine,” Twilight replied.

Ernest saluted and said, “Can do, Princess.”  Looking over at Pinkie limbering up for her hospital party Ernest asked, “Do you need help setting up downstairs?”

Pinkie shook her head, “Thanks for asking, Ernest, but I can handle it.  You stay here and get some rest.  You got a big party of your own to look forward to later on!”
	

> Princess POOP
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the hospital party, Pinkie Pie left to prepare for Ernest’s Welcome to Ponyville Party.   Rarity went back to her salon to check on Sweetie Belle, leaving Twilight to escort Ernest around town.  As Troll Fighter One and Twilight exited the infirmary, Ernest asked the Princess, “So who do you think is going to be at this shindig, Your Majesty?”

“Well, I would expect Rainbow Dash to be there.  She wouldn’t miss a party thrown by Pinkie. Applejack and her brother, Big Macintosh, might show up after their chores are finished.  Mr. and Mrs. Cake have graciously agreed to provide the food and drinks for the party, so you’ll be seeing them.  Other than those ponies, I can’t think of anypony else who will be attending,” Twilight said thoughtfully.  “We never had somepony like you here before, so we kept the party small.”  	

Ernest nodded his head and said smugly, “Nope, I wouldn’t reckon you get very many people like yours truly.  I am a man apart from other men.  I’m a lone wolf who survives by his wits alone.  A stout boatman adrift through the backwater of time.  A. . .”

“I get the picture,” Twilight interrupted gently.  The alicorn had learned that if you didn’t cut him off, he would just keep rambling on.

As the pair walked down the dirt road to the edge of Ponyville, Ernest looked all around him with wide child-like eyes.  Unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies were everywhere.  He didn’t know what to look at first.  Should he watch the flying horses clear clouds?  Should he watch the unicorns levitate objects?  Or maybe watch earth ponies carry twice their own body weight without breaking a sweat.  He couldn’t make up his mind, so his eyes darted from pony to pony creepily. 

“It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?  I wish I could see what you’re seeing through your eyes.”

Ernest blinked and realized that Twilight was talking to him.  He became aware that he was staring with his mouth open, making some of the ponies that passed by leery of getting too close.	

“Yeah, I’ve never seen so many kinds of horses in one place before.  Except maybe at that rainbow-glue factory I worked at a few years ago.”  The last sentence Ernest said was muttered to himself.

“What did you say, Ernest?  I didn’t catch that last part.”

“Oh, nothing, Your Highness, just talking to myself.  Sometimes I even get a response.  You know what I mean?”

Twilight shook her head and decided not to reply.

“Twilight!  Hey, Twilight!”

Off in the distance a small green and lavender lizard was bounding up the road toward the Princess and the human.

Ernest shielded his eyes and squinted to get a better look at what was coming their way.  “What is that?”

“That’s Spike.  He’s my assistant over at the library.”

The sanitation engineer tore his eyes off the small lizard.  “You’re the librarian here?  I thought you lived in a palace in Camelot, and you were just visiting me.” 

Sighing, the alicorn replied, “It’s pronounced Canterlot.  I studied magic at Canterlot under Princess Celestia.  When I finished my studies, I was assigned to Ponyville as the new librarian to learn about the Magic of Friendship.”

Ernest still had a confused look on his face.  “But, you’re a Princess now, right?  Not that I don’t mind your company, Your Majesty, but shouldn’t you be doing more important things then keeping an eye on little old me?  Like . . . I don’t know, knighting people, visiting foreign countries, making sure everyone has an umbrella handy in case a pegasus can’t make it to the bathroom?  I don’t know about you, but I feel kind of exposed out here underneath the tails of so many horses.  

Twilight bit back an angry retort.  Ernest hadn’t meant to, but he had struck a raw nerve with the Princess.  She did want to go to other places, and to be treated like royalty, and have duties that were actually important.  Instead, she replied, “Don’t worry about the pegasus, Ernest.  That rarely happens.”

Before Ernest could ask another question, Spike had closed the distance.  He stood there panting as he craned his neck to look up at the tall biped.  “So, this is the human, huh?”

Twilight quickly shushed Spike and made sure no other pony had heard him.  She hissed to the baby dragon, “He’s not a human.  He’s a pony practicing for Nightmare Night.  Remember?”

Spike looked down at his feet in embarrassment and said, “Sorry, Twilight.”  He then looked up at Ernest and said, “Wow, that’s some costume you have on there, mister.  What’s your secret?  How did you make it?”

Puffing himself up, Ernest replied, “Well, Spike, the secret to getting a cutting edge physique like mine is to eat the four basic food groups:  bananas, chocolate, prune juice, and baked beans.  Also, get plenty of fiber.  If you follow these simple steps, you’ll be looking like me in no time.  A lean, mean, troll-hunting machine.”

Whispering to Twilight, Spike asked, “Is he being serious right now?”

Twilight sighed and nodded.  “So what’s up, Spike?  Is Pinkie ready for the guest of honor?”

“Yeah, she just now finished preparing.  I was just passing through town when she tackled me and asked me to tell you that she was ready.  I’ve never seen so many ponies at Sugarcube Corner!  The whole place is packed.”

Twilight replied angrily, “What?!  I told her to keep the party small!  What the hay is she thinking?!  Does anypony listen to me anymore?!  This is going to be a disaster!   The whole buckin’ town is going to be there, and . . .”

Both Spike and Ernest took an unconscious step back from the upset alicorn.  As Twilight vented her frustration on two scared looking ponies that got too close, Ernest turned to Spike and asked worriedly, “So, uh Spike, what goes on at these kinds of get-togethers?  Are there any games, any dancing, you know, stuff like that?”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve never been to a Pinkie Party before.  You’re in for a real treat.  Pinkies’s parties are as random as they are fun.  Plus you have the added benefit of meeting the entire town.”  Noticing Ernest had a nervous look on his face, Spike continued, “Relax, it’ll be fun, as long as you don’t kiss anypony.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.  My lips are sealed.  And I don’t mind meeting the town folk.  As long as they don’t want to blindfold me, tie me up, and hit me with sticks.”

“Why would they do that?”  Spike asked.

“It happened one time when I was a camp counselor.  The kids said that they needed a piñata, and I volunteered.  At the time I thought a piñata was Spanish for clown, but boy was I wrong.  Spike just looked at Ernest and said, “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“Oh good,” Ernest replied relieved.  “I’ve been dreading that all day.”

As the human finished sharing his traumatic experience as a party favor, Twilight had calmed down enough to mutter, “Alright you two, let’s head over there.”  

As the group got moving, Twilight noticed that Spike looked tired from his run.  “Do you need a ride, Spike?”

Knowing that Twilight was still pretty upset over the party, he replied, “No thanks.  I can walk, it’s not that far.  I’m . . . .”

Before Spike could say more, Ernest stepped up to the baby lizard and said, “I’ve got this, Your Highness.”  With that, Ernest picked Spike up and set him on his shoulders.  At first, Spike was scared about being up so high on a complete stranger’s shoulders.  For that matter, so was Twilight.  However, after a few seconds Spike said, “Wow, this is a pretty good view.  Thanks, Ernest.”

“Don’t mention it,” Ernest wheezed as he swayed left and right trying to balance Spike’s deceptively enormous weight.

“Are you okay?”  the princess asked.

“Oh, yeah.  He’s just a bit heavier than I thought.  I can do it.”  After several painful steps, he asked, “What does he eat anyway?  It feels like I got a sack of broken glass sitting on my neck.”

“I eat gems, nice tasty gems, diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, rubies . . . you know, stuff like that.”

“Hmmm, you might want to get that checked out.  That doesn’t sound too good for a lizard,”  Ernest stated as he struggled forward.

“I’m a dragon, not a lizard,” Spike replied indignantly.

Ernest stopped dead in his tracks, “Well I’ll be a son of a troll; I’m carrying a living, breathing dragon.  J.R.R. Tolkein eat your heart out.”

As Ernest said this, Twilight muttered to herself, “Oh, and meeting a Princess of Equestria wasn’t the highlight of the day?  It figures.”

A few minutes later, the three companions walked into the heart of Ponyville, and as Spike had stated, Sugarcube Corner was packed.  

Twilight said to the sanitation engineer, “Now remember, Ernest, don’t say anything about humans.  You are a pony in a costume.”

“What kind of costume?”  Ernest asked.

Twilight paused as she bit her lip and thought.  After a few seconds, she asked, “You have any ideas, Spike?”

Spike giggled and said jokingly, “How about a shaved minotaur?”

“What?   That’s horri--, Well, I honestly can’t think of anything better.  Fine, he’s a minotaur.  Let’s just hope Iron Will doesn’t come to town anytime soon,” replied Twilight.

“Now hold on guys.  Do I really look like a shaved cow that walks on its hind legs?”  Ernest gasped as he shifted Spike’s weight.

Dodging the question, Twilight declared, “Let’s go.  They’re waiting on us.”

Cringing, Ernest plodded toward the colossal gingerbread house.

As the group opened the door and crossed over the threshold into the bakery, Ernest’s thoughts rampaged across his mind.  Oh, What do I do?  What do I say?  Should I call them horses or ponies?  If they don’t talk, how do I tell the boys from the girls?  Oh, I’ll just look between their legs.  Can they smell fear?  I wish I had something to read from.

At that moment Spike felt a deep rumbling in his stomach.  The baby dragon let out a huge belch that was barely heard above the den of the collected ponies’ loud voices.

“Did you say something?”  Ernest asked.

“No, uh, nothing,” Spike replied clumsily as he tried to pat out the spreading fire.

All the ponies in the room noticed Ernest arrival since he was the only thing in the room standing on two legs.  A hushed murmur of curiosity quickly spread through the ponies.  They were unsure what to make of the strange biped with smoke coming from his head.  

Ernest was about to say something off the cuff when a piece of parchment landed from out of nowhere into his hands.  Delighted, Ernest unrolled the paper and whispered to Twilight, “Hey, thanks for the note.  I was kind of wondering if you wanted me to say something in particular.  You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, sure Ernest.  Wait, what?  What do you mean?”  Twilight asked as she looked up curiously at the human.  But it was too late.  In a loud voice, Ernest had begun reading.

Dear Princess Twilight,
Fine. Since you keep insisting on having a title, you shall hence forth be known as Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Panicking Over Ordinary Problems, or POOP for short.  Yes, you are the Princess of POOP, since that’s all you ever do.
Sincerely,
Princess of the Sun and Everything the Light Touches,
Celestia

The ponies roared with laughter when Ernest had finished reading the letter.  Some were laughing so hard they were crying. 

Twilight could not believe what was happening.  She put her wings in front of her face so no one could see how embarrassed she was.  

When Ernest finished reading, he was very confused.  He wondered why the Princess had given him this strange letter to read.  And why was she hiding behind her wings?  However, before he could ask these questions, the smell of burning hat drifted by his nose.  “Hey, Spike, just wondering, can you breathe . . . ?”

“Fire!”  Somepony screamed, drowning out Ernest’s question.  The cry was taken up by several panicked ponies seconds later.

“Yeah, what they said,” Ernest finished.

Spike didn’t answer; instead he jumped off Ernest’s shoulders.  

“Now where are you going?  Come back.  I’m not accusing you of anything.  I’m just wondering,”  Ernest said.		

Small hands shook Twilight out of her self pity.  “Snap out of it, Twilight.  We’ve got a problem.”  The princess peeked out from her wings to see a panicking Spike frantically gesturing at Ernest’s head.   The human’s hat was nearly engulfed in flames.

“Ernest, don’t move!  Your hat is on fire!”  Twilight yelled.

“Are you sure?  I thought that was just me being nervous.  Ya know what I mean?”  The human asked.  Noticing a mirror to his left, he looked at it and then let out a piercing scream.  “WWWWHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAA--------.”

Ernest’s scream was cut short as a large piece of pie hit him in the face, sending him crashing to the floor.  He was hit so hard, he forgot about the fire burning on top of his head.  Ernest brought his hands up and put a piece of the sugary treat in his mouth as he got to his feet.  “Mmmmm, this is great.”  

Twilight looked to see who threw the pastry.  She was not surprised when she saw a multi-colored pegasus hovering above the ground with another pie in-between her hooves. 	

“Come on everypony.  Let’s put out the fire.”

“Rainbow Dash, wait!”  Twilight shouted.

But it was far too late.  Following Rainbow’s lead, Ernest was brought to his knees as he was pelted from all sides by ponies wielding cake, ice cream, pies, and fruit. Some of the ponies, thinking that this was a food fight, began to throw their tasty missiles at each other.  

“Everypony, St--!” Twilight’s scream was cut short as Derpy Hooves dropped a whole cake on top of her head.  As Ernest tried to regain his footing once again, a reddish orange pony with a yoke around his neck sat on Ernest’s chest pinning him to the floor.  Meanwhile an orange mare with a cowboy hat had appeared with a punch bowl.  She dumped the entire contents of the bowl on his head.  The orange pony then screamed, “QUIET, YOU DANG FOALS!!”

This got the attention of everypony in the building, and the food fight died down. 

“Ernest, I’m so sorry.  Are you alright?”  Twilight asked as she came to Ernest’s side.

“No, he ain’t alright.  Look at ‘em.”  Applejack replied.   “He had everything but the kitchen sink thrown at ‘em, thanks to that dad burned, pie flinging, show pony!!”

A split second later, Rainbow Dash was in the earth pony’s face yelling, “I was trying to put out the fire with what I had!  Where were you all this time?”

“Not trying to kill him with sweets, that’s for sure.”  

Before Rainbow Dash could reply, the sanitation engineer began to flail around on the ground underneath the huge earth pony.

“Uh, Big Mac, ya best get off of ‘em.  He’s turnin’ colors.”

“Eyup,” Big Mac replied as he got up off the human.

Ernest took a very deep breath as he was helped to his feet by the other ponies.  The first thing he did was spit out a mouthful of cake.  He then removed his hat and saw that only the brim was left of his treasured possession.  

Spike, the only one who did not have a speck of party food on him, came up to Ernest and said, “I’m sorry about your hat. I honestly didn’t mean to set you on fire.  I can’t control when letters from Princess Celestia come, and when they do . . . it kind of makes a mess sometimes.”

Ernest turned to Spike and asked, “Is that what that was?  I thought those notes were funny.  If I’d known you were a walking flaming mailbox, I’d probably have set ya down sooner.  You know what I mean?”

Spike frowned and looked down at the floor.

The human smiled.  “Don’t worry about it, Spike.  It was an old hat anyway.  In fact, keep it.  It’s yours.  I was going to give it to you anyway.  

“Really?  Thanks, Ernest.”  Spike then put what was left of the hat on his head.  “I like it.”

Twilight came up to Rainbow Dash and glared at her.  “Don’t you have something to say too, Rainbow?”

The blue pegasus huffed and said, “Fine.  I’m sorry I tried to put out the fire while every pony else was standing around staring.”

“Rainbow Dash!”  Twilight scolded.

“It’s okay, Princess.  She’s right.  If she hadn’t done what she did, I might still be a green torch running around.”

“Thank you.  My thoughts exactly,” agreed the pegasus.  

Even though all was forgiven, Twilight could see the weariness and hurt in Ernest’s eyes.   Then a barking noise was heard coming from the front door.

Ernest turned to see a yellow pegasus cradling a small dog in-between her hooves. 

“Rimshot?”  Ernest asked hopefully.  “Is that you?”

The pegasus put down the small dog.  The beagle yipped happily and scampered up his owner’s legs.

Tears of happiness streamed down Ernest’s face as he hugged his dog to his chest.  “This is the best party I’ve ever had.”

> Don't Kill Me
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now, that was a food fight!”  Pinkie Pie exclaimed as the last of the chocolate icing was wiped from the ceiling.  

Ernest grinned as he mopped the floor.  “Yeah, it was pretty good.  I haven’t been in a food fight like that since my days at Kamp Kikakee, but those boys didn’t throw near as hard.”  The human winced as he smiled.  The side of his head where Rainbow Dash had scored a direct hit with her pie was still tender.  

Noticing this, Rainbow Dash put down her spray bottle and gloves.  She hovered over to the Troll Fighter and asked, “So, how’s your face doing?”

Ernest quickly withdrew his hand that was probing his head.  “I’m okay.  Compared to what Rarity gave me, having some dessert thrown my way wasn’t so bad.”

The sky blue pegasus raised her eyebrows.  “She actually hit you?  I thought Pinkie was exaggerating when she told me that part.  Oh man, she must’ve been mad at you.” 

Feeling a nudge from behind him, Ernest looked down.   Applejack was gesturing for him to lean close.  “Did ya really kiss Sweetie Belle?”

Ernest looked to see if anyone else was listening to the conversation.  Luckily all the other ponies were busy, except for Rainbow Dash, who was listening intently.  “Yeah, but it was only a peck on the cheek . . . It was like me kissing Rimshot.  Ain’t that right, boy?”

The dog looked at Ernest in-between mouthfuls of apple cake that had landed on the floor.  He stared for a couple of seconds and then went back to eating again.

“Eh-heh-heh-heh, he agrees with me.  He’d say so himself, but it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.”

Applejack glared up at him with her piercing emerald eyes.  “It’s also rude to lie,” she hissed. 

“Eyup,” Big Mac chimed in as he carried a load of trash bags out the door.

Ernest’s eyes darted back and forth as he said quietly, “Alright, alright, I kissed her on the mouth.  I thought she was a troll, and that’s the best way to get rid of the stunted devils.  It was dark, and her costume was real scary, and . . .”

Rainbow Dash dissolved into gales of laughter.  “That’s how you get rid of trolls?!!”  she howled loudly.

The pegasus’ outburst drew the attention of everypony in the room.  Realizing what she just said, Rainbow Dash stuttered, “I mean, that’s how you shine a pole?  Ha, ha, ha,” she continued laughing mirthlessly as she floated back to her rubber gloves and spray bottle.

Shaking her head at her winged friend, Applejack whispered to Ernest, “Well, that’s about what Pinkie Pie said.  And from what I gathered from Rarity earlier, Sweetie Belle’s doin’ just fine.  But if ya ever do something like that again, you’re going to answer to me, and I hit a lot harder.  Do you understand?”  

Ernest nodded his head up and down rapidly, his eyes wide with fear.  “Yes ma’am, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Good,” Applejack replied as she walked past Ernest, following Big Mac out the door with a couple more bags of trash.

As the sanitation engineer let out a sigh of relief, a very loud voice boomed, “Hey, new pony?”  	

Ernest jumped backward a few steps in surprise.   As he recovered, he turned around to see who the new pony was.   Instead he saw that a white unicorn with a blue mane and a microphone was pointing his way.

Ernest looked from side to side to see who the new pony was.  Seeing that all the other horses were looking at him, he finally gestured to himself and mouthed “me?”

“Yeah you, in the freakish minotaur costume,” the unicorn said into the microphone.  “This is your party.  What kind of poison would you like to jam to?”

The human, uncomfortable with all the attention, put up his hands.  “Oh, no thanks.  I like to keep my jams and my poisons separate.  You know what I mean?”

The white unicorn lowered her shades and frowned as all the other ponies laughed at the stranger’s wit.

Ernest felt a tapping on his leg.  He looked down and saw a mint colored unicorn with white hair.  “She means, what music would you like to listen to?”

“Is that what she’s talking about?  Okay, thank’s uh . . .”

“Lyra.  Lyra Heartstrings.”

“Thanks, Lyra.”

The Troll Fighter turned his attention back to the impatient D.J. pony.  “Do you have any country, or western tunes up there?”

The D.J. pony’s lips thinned like she had just tasted something bitter.

Ernest not noticing continued, “You know Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty, Willie Nelson any of those guys?

The room had gone very quiet as the other ponies looked at each other to see if anypony knew what the heck the costumed pony was talking about.

Ernest felt another, much harder tapping on his other leg.  A different pony with a blue and pink striped mane asked, “Who the hay are those show ponies?”

“Well, they’re not ponies.  They’re . . .” Ernest stopped himself as he realized what he was about to say.  “Uh . . . never mind,  Ms. . . .”

“Her name’s Bon Bon,” Lyra said.

“I hate to interrupt the group meeting, but would it be okay if I chose something?” the D.J. asked.

Ernest gave the okay sign, “Sure, go ahead.”

The white unicorn grinned maliciously as she stepped away from the microphone.

Turning back to the two ponies, Ernest declared, “She seems nice, talks a little funny though, but   . . .”

The human frowned as she saw Bon Bon put her hooves over her ears.

“What’s wrong with you?  Do you have an ear ache or something?”

“She doesn’t like Vinyl’s music.  It’s . . .”  Lyra struggled for the right word before settling on, “pretty loud.”

Bon Bon chimed in, “I’d be holding my ear’s, if I were you.”

Ernest folded his arms over his chest and said confidently, “Oh really, I appreciate the warning, but Ernest P. Worrell doesn’t shirk from loud noises, nor does he cover his ears when music is played in his honor.  Rimshot and I can take whatever she can dish out, ain’t that right boy?”

Looking down at his dog, he saw that Rimshot was sitting back on his hind legs with his two front paws over his ears in preparation.

“Smart dog,” Bon Bon commented dryly.

Before Ernest could reply, the lights had dimmed and strange multicolored lights on the ceiling came on.  The Troll Fighter suddenly had a bad feeling about what was coming, but it was too late.  Noise like he had never heard before blared out from four massive speakers close to where Vinyl was standing.  She didn’t seem to care in the least as she fiddled with a huge music-machine that spat out the strange sounds.    

Ernest immediately clamped his hands over his ears as the loud chaotic music and the bright lights drove him to his knees.  “WWWHHHAAAAA, What is this?  Make it stop!!” He wailed, but no one seemed to hear him as the party goers started to dance happily to the beat of the music.

The human was stepped on several times before a couple pairs of hooves dragged him away from the music.

He was led to a table booth to regain his bearings.  

“I told you to cover your ears, you big dummy,” declared Bon Bon.

While making sure he had not broken any bones, Ernest replied, “It just caught me by surprise, that’s all.  I hear this kind of music all the time where I come from.”

Sitting across from him, Lyra asked, “Where do you come from, if you don’t mind me asking?  I’ve never heard your kind of accent before.  If I had to guess, I’d say you were from Appleloosa or Dodge City.”  

Bon Bon sighed, bored with small talk, “I’m going to grab some cake, Lyra.  Do you want any?”  

Lyra just shook her head, her attention riveted on the costumed pony.

As Bon Bon left, Ernest started to panic as he tried to come up with a convincing lie on the spur of the moment.  “Uh, what were the choices again on where I come from?”  he asked.

Lyra grabbed Ernest’s pant leg roughly and snarled.  Her pleasant demeanor had completely changed.  “You can drop the act now.  I know exactly what you are, and you aren’t a shaved minotaur.  You’re a human!”

“Uh . . .err,” before Ernest could say a half-baked fib, he spotted a pony carrying a tray of milkshakes from table to table.

The Troll Fighter frantically waved the pony over and yelled over the din of music, “Can my friend and I here have a round of waters?  I’m a little short of funds, ya know what I mean?”

An amused smirk appeared on the yellow pony’s face as he replied, “I don’t know where you come from bud, but here in Ponyville, we don’t make you pay at your own party.”  A pen and note pad appeared as he set the tray down.  “Now, what’ll it be?”

“A chocolate shake would hit the spot,” Ernest replied a little too quickly.  

The yellow pony glanced down at Ernest.  “Hey, relax.  If you’re worried about the food fight earlier, don’t be. I won’t make you pay for the damage to the store.  Rainbow Dash and the others are another story.” 	As the owner of Sugarcube Corner took Ernest’s order, he asked the mint colored unicorn, “Hey, Lyra, would you like anything?”  

“No, thank you, Mr. Cake.  I was just talking to my human friend here.”

Ernest tried not to look panicked. 

“Human?” The yellow earth pony laughed.  “If this pony had wanted to be a human for Nightmare Night, he would be two feet shorter, grey skinned, and hairier than a Star Swirl the Bearded physics question.

Stamping her hooves in frustration, Lyra growled, “That’s a dwarf.  Dwarves don’t exist, but humans do.  And I am telling you, he’s a human.  Look at his legs and his hands!  His pink fleshy complexion and his tiny snout! Use your eyes!”  	

Mr. Cake shrugged off Lyra shaking him and took another scrutinizing glance at Ernest.

Ernest pasted a blank smile on his face and sweated.

Mr. Cake finally said, “Okay, so is this a human costume or a shaved minotaur costume?”

“He’s not in costume! He is a human!!!”  Lyra seethed.

Nodding his head in agreement, Ernest replied, “You’re right, Lyra.  I should have gone as a human, but it’s too late to switch now.  You know what I mean?”

Ignoring the fuming unicorn, the co-owner of Sugarcube Corner asked the guest of honor, “Well, besides the chaos at the beginning and the cleanup, how’s the rest of the party going?”

“Oh this is great!  Best party I’ve ever had!”  Ernest answered, relieved to have someone else think that he was still in costume.

Rimshot, who was sitting beside Ernest, barked lazily in agreement.  It looked like the beagle had gained ten pounds from eating the left overs of the food fight.

“Glad to hear it.  Well, I’d better see to your shake.  Hopefully we can visit later on.”

“No wait.  Come back.  I want to order something else!”  Ernest yelled, but it was too late.  The pony had already picked up his tray and left.

The human turned his attention back to Lyra who was glaring at him intently.  “Eh, heh, heh, heh, uh . . . what were we talking about?”

“You may have the other’s fooled, human, but I am on to you.  You are my proof that humans exist, and I’ll be bucked if I’ll let this chance slip by,” The pony stated sharply.  

As the Sanitation Engineer contemplated bolting for the door, he was bowled over by a deafening blast.

“EXCUSE ME, ERNEST!!!”  A loud screeching voice wailed next to Ernest’s ear.

Troll Fighter One was blown over in his seat by the volume of the pony yelling at him.  Rimshot just barely managed to hop on top of the table to avoid being squished by his master.

Ernest yelled in terror, putting his arms and feet up in front of his face, “WWWWHHHAAAA, Don’t kill me.  Don’t kill me.  Don’t kill me!”

After a few seconds, Ernest peaked out from behind his fingers to see a yellow pegasus with a pink mane blushing profusely.  Fluttershy looked down at Ernest apologetically and said, “Oh my, I’m sorry about that Ernest.  I didn’t mean to yell so loudly.  But, I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now, and I thought if I yelled especially loud  . . . and, well. . . .”  Fluttershy’s voice trailed off.	

Ernest sighed in relief, as he sat back up in the booth.  “That’s alright.  I thought you were a troll.”

Lyra, who was also recovering from Fluttershy’s bellow shook her head.  “No!  You are not getting away, human.  You and I are going to Canterlot today, so I can present you to the Princesses and prove that I--hey, let go!”

Grabbing her friend from behind, Bon Bon looked apologetically at Ernest and said, “I am so sorry about this.  I should have never left you two alone.  I saw that look in her eye when she caught a glimpse at you.  I thought she’d be okay.”

“I am okay,” Lyra insisted.  “He’s the real McCoy this time, Bon Bon.  I swear it.”

“Come on, Lyra.  Let’s get you home,” Bon Bon said tiredly, dragging her friend away.

Turning her fanatical gaze on Ernest, Lyra cried, “This isn’t over! I will find you!”  She then began to emit a string of curses at her friend to let her go.	

The yellow pegasus’s cheeks reddened as Lyra’s curses became more exotic.

Standing up out of the booth, Ernest said, “Thanks for bailing me out back there, Fluttershy.  I didn’t know how much longer I could keep her guessing.  And thanks again for taking care of Rimshot while I was in the hospital.”

“Oh, that’s alright, Ernest.  Rimshot is such a good boy.  Yes, he is.  Yes, he is.”  As she said this, she rubbed the dog’s belly.  Rimshot’s back leg scratched the air quickly.  When Fluttersshy was done, the beagle stood back up and barked at Ernest.

Ernest shook his head, “No, we can’t keep her.”  

The pony smiled at the complement, but then she realized, “You can understand him?”

The red neck gave her a strange look as he replied, “Well, yeah.  He’s my dog.”

“Um, yes, but you can understand him bark for bark.  I don’t know of anypony else who can do that.”

Ernest thought about this for a second before replying.  “I just figured that was because he barks with a really strong beagle accent that even other beagles can’t understand.”

After Ernest said this, Rimshot growled irritably at his master in embarrassment.

“What?  It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t told me.”

“Can you understand other dogs or animals?”  Fluttershy asked fascinated.

“Nope, just him.”

“Oh,” she replied in disappointment. 

Before the winged pony could ask another question, the front door to Sugarcube Corner slammed open deafeningly.  Yelping in fear, the pegasus scooped up Rimshot and flew back into the booth Ernest had vacated earlier.  The music stopped, and the blinding rainbow lights turned off.

Troll Fighter One squinted at the bright sunlit figure as it strolled into the bakery.  After rubbing his teary eyes from the glare, he was face to face with an honest to goodness minotaur in a tie.

The mythical beast grabbed the human’s shirt and pulled him close until their faces were centimeters apart.  Snorting, the beast asked, “Are you the pony who has been mocking Iron Will with this disgraceful costume?”

Giving the minotaur a confused look, Ernest looked down at himself and replied, “Well, sorry.  If I had known minotaurs were fatter, err, I mean bulkier, I would have had a protein shake before I came over here.  You know what I mean?”

Iron Will seethed in rage as he said very slowly and menacingly, “Take.  It.  Off.  Now.”

The ponies who weren’t cowering in terror looked on in curiosity.  What did this pony look like underneath his costume?

Ernest’s confusion turned to gut-wrenching fear as he stammered, “Yeah, well, see . . . uh about that, I . . . .”

“You refuse?”  Iron Will bellowed.  “Fine.  Iron Will shall tear it off you piece by piece.  If somepony offends, make them amend!”	

Grasping both sides of Ernest’s rubbery face, Iron Will began to pull.  

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.  Hey stop it!  That stings really bad.”

Surprised that the pony’s mask wasn’t tearing in the least, Iron Will changed tactics.  He grabbed the minotaur imposter in a headlock and tried to pull his fake head off.

“Pal, I’m telling ya, it doesn’t come off that way.  OW!  Cut it out!”  Ernest yelped in pain.

Letting go of the strange pony, Iron Will poked Ernest in the chest and exclaimed, “I will get this costume off you if it’s the last thing I do!” 

The next thing Ernest knew, he and the minotaur were pushed away from each other by a pink pony.

Pinkie, nose to nose with Iron Will asked, “Alright Buster Brown, what’s the big deal?  He’s just practicing for Nightmare Night.  No harm, no fowl.”

Sniffing Iron Will’s breath, Pinkie turned green and waved at the air.  “Never mind.  That’s pretty foul.”

Shoving his face in Pinkie’s, the bull-headed creature roared, “That costume is offensive to my eyes!  Iron Will isn’t leaving until he sees that pony remove it!”

The minotaur tried to step around Pinkie, but the pony moved to block his way.  

Raging at the Earth Pony, Iron Will yelled, “If someponey tries to block, show them . . .”

“Yeah, yeah, listen big guy.  How about this?”  Pinkie asked impatiently.  “Let’s have a hoof wrestling contest.  If Ernest wins, he stays in costume.  If you win, he takes it off.”

Without hesitation, Iron Will cracked his neck.  “Agreed.”

Ernest, smiled cockily and came up to the minotaur.  “Yeah, let’s have a thumb wrestling contest.  I accept.  Let’s do it.  No take backsies.  You’re in for it now, buddy.  No one can beat Ernest P. Worrell, when it comes to thumb combat.  I am the master when it comes to digit warfare, and I take no prisoners.”

Cracking his knuckles, Iron Will replied, “I believe the pink one said hoof wrestling, not thumb wrestling.”

The sanitation engineer’s confidence deflated faster than a popped balloon.  He gulped, “Eh-heh- heh-heh.  One second.  I need to get limbered up first.”

> Never Leave a Blue Pony Down
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Without waiting for a reply, Ernest bent down and asked Pinkie, “Are you sure you didn’t say thumb wrestling?”

The earth pony smiled and patted Ernest on the arm.  “Don’t worry, Ernest, old pal.  Pinkie has a plan.  Now you go talk to Dashie.  She has a few pointers about wrestling.”

Before Ernest could protest, he felt a hoof around his neck pulling him down to face a rainbow-maned pony.  “Okay, have you ever hoof wrestled before?” she asked.

“Yeah, there was this one time when I was in prison.  I arm wrestled this one guy and . . .”

“Wait, wait, back up.  You were in prison?”

“I was framed.  It all started when this guy Nash wanted to rob this bank I was working at.  He wanted to switch places with . . .”

Shoving a hoof into the human’s face, Rainbow Dash growled, “We don’t have time for this.”  Still clamping Ernest’s mouth shut, she looked the sanitation engineer up and down.  “I hope to Celestia you’re stronger than you look.”

Letting go of the Troll Fighter’s face, she sighed.  “Okay, since you’ve done something like hoof wrestling before, I’ll just cover the basics.”

“Hey!”

Both Rainbow Dash and Ernest looked over at Iron Will.

“Time’s up.  Get your tail over here and let’s do this.”

“Give us a minute.  He’s not done stretching,” the pegasus called back.

Before the pegasus could utter a word of advice, a distinct country voice echoed throughout the bakery.  “What in the Sam Hill is going on here now?”  

“Gargh!” Rainbow Dash wailed in frustration.  “I’m trying to give Ernest some pointers about hoof wrestling.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow at this answer.  “Uh, why?”

“Cause he’s gonna hoof wrestle that minotaur.”

The blonde Earth Pony looked behind her and beheld Iron Will doing one-armed pushups to warm up.  “Why?”  she asked again.

Before the pegasus could blow up in rage or Ernest could clumsily explain, Applejack held up a hoof and said, “Never mind.  I’m sure Rainbow Dash got ya into this mess somehow.  Ya want me or Big Mac to take care of ‘em?”

“Yes!”  That’s what Ernest wanted to say but was interrupted by a bell.

DING, DING, DING.

Pinkie Pie reappeared in the center of the bakery in a referee’s uniform with a microphone.  “Fillies and Gentlecolts, welcome to the Sugarcube Corner Hoof Wrestling Extravaganza.”

Only crickets greeted the pink earth pony’s announcement for a few seconds.  That soon changed however.  

“Pinkie!  What the hay are you doing?” screamed an irate Twilight Sparkle.

Spike and Big Mac held back the Princess as she tried to struggle through the crowd of party goers.  

“Calm down, Twilight,” pleaded Spike as he held one of Twilight’s hooves.  “Pinkie has a plan, doesn’t she, Fluttershy?”

The yellow pegasus nodded hesitantly as she petted Rim Shot.  “Yes . . . I don’t like it though, but if it saves Ernest from getting hurt . . . I’ll do it.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” asked Twilight. 

As Spike explained Pinkie Pie’s plan to the princess, the Troll Fighter’s mouth had gone dry in fright.  The pink announcer had taken to broadcasting the exploits of Iron Will to the audience, and there were many of them. 

Applejack’s eyebrows rose in surprise.  “I didn’t even know a pony could bench press that.”

Ernest laughed nervously.  “Eh-heh-heh-heh, yeah that is impressive, but it’s not anything old Ernest P. Worrell can’t top.”  Noticing everyone’s attention was on the minotaur, Ernest tried to slip away.  As he tried to make his way to Rimshot and the egress, the rainbow pegasus flew up to him out of nowhere.  She was nose to nose with the human when she asked, “And where do you think you’re going?”

The sanitation engineer grimaced.  “I think I left the heater going in my truck. I, uh, need to go check that out.  I’d hate to set anything on fire that isn’t mine.  You know what I mean?” 

“Get back in there!”  The pegasus commanded as she pointed to the center of the bakery.

Ernest’s rubbery face contorted in fright as he obeyed Rainbow Dash’s command.  

“And in this corner of the room,” yelled Pinkie Pie suddenly, “is the freakishly tall pony on stilts sporting a trendy, hairless minotaur costume! Yeah!  It’s Ernest P. Worrell, the pony from Briarville!”

The entire bakery erupted in applause for Ernest.  

Touched, the Troll Fighter waved back at his new fans, and a familiar swagger came back to his steps as he strolled to the arm wrestling table. However, as the Troll Fighter sat down, his new-found confidence evaporated as he looked at the ripped minotaur.

Ernest swallowed as the huge creature sat down on his side of the table.  The human tried to put on a tough face and said in a deep voice, “Alright buster, I’m gonna give ya one last chance ta back out of this.  What do ya say?” 

Iron Will leaned across the table and snorted in the human’s face.  “When they say back out, give them a clout.”

Pinkie Pie gently pushed Iron Will back into his seat and said, “Alright boys, arms on the table.”

As the two opponents made ready for their duel, Pinkie Pie turned around and picked Fluttershy out in the crowd of ponies and nodded.

The shy pegasus mouth thinned into a hard line of determination as she made her way behind Ernest.

Pinkie turned her attention back to the match.  “Okay gentlecolts, on the count of three.” 

“Wait!”  Ernest yelled frantically.  “Is it one, two, three go?  Or are we doing this like, one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi?  Or . . .”	

“What’s a Mississippi?”  asked Pinkie. 

“Enough stalling!” roared Iron Will distractedly.  His attention seemed to be drifting to something in the crowd and back to Ernest.

“Here we go, boys,” said Pinkie happily.

Ernest felt a strong desire to urinate as Pinkie began to count.  “Three, Two, One, go!”

The human closed his eyes and put every bit of muscle into pinning the minotaur’s arm to the table.

Iron Will didn’t budge, but neither was the minotaur using his great strength against the disguised human.  If Ernest would have looked up at his opponent, he would have seen a completely petrified minotaur.  The creature’s gaze was fixed on a pony in the crowd who was shaking her head disapprovingly, her piercing stare never deviating from Iron Will’s eyes.  Fluttershy brought up her right hoof and slowly bent it at a ninety-degree angle.  Iron Will imitated the pegasus motion, and seconds later the crowd erupted in explosive cheering.

Ernest opened his eyes, and to his surprise, he had brought down the monster’s arm with his own.  Iron Will shook his head as if awakening from a dream.  He looked down at his arm, and to his horror, the pony imposter had won, but how?  Iron Will’s thoughts were interrupted by the other stallion’s extremely annoying chuckle.  

“Eh-heh-heh-heh, sorry buddy.  Looks like the suit stays on.”    

Still grasping the costumed pony’s hoof, Iron Will yanked the minotaur imposter out of his seat and across the table.

“I don’t know how you won, but if I were you, I’d find myself another town to be in on Nightmare Night.”

With that, Iron Will let go of Ernest and stormed out of the bakery.

Before Ernest could even sigh in relief, he felt his hand being raised in the air by the pink pony.

“The winner!”  Pinkie Pie yelled.

The ponies stomped their hooves in applause and chanted the human’s name over and over. Grinning smugly from ear to ear, Ernest flexed his arms to the crowd.  

Holding a microphone to her lips, Pinkie Pie asked the sanitation engineer, “Ernest, you just hoof wrestled the biggest, baddest, meanest, minotaur in all of Equestria and won.  Tell the audience how you did it.”

Speaking into the microphone, Ernest replied, “Well, Pinkie, both of these arms of mine are things of mass destruction.  Where I come from, I have to get a permit for putting on a jacket because I am concealing deadly weapons.”

In the crowd Twilight Sparkle, Spike, and a few other ponies guffawed loudly at Ernest’s comments.  Spike laughed so hard Ernest’s ruined hat fell off his head.

Fighting back a fit of laughter of her own, Pinkie asked, “Uh-huh, you seemed a bit nervous there before the match.  Was that just pre-wrestling jitters?”

Ernest waved his hand dismissingly.  “Naw, that was me getting warmed up.  I’ll tell you one thing though, I would have lost without the help of one pony.”

Pinkie Pie glanced over at a now blushing Fluttershy as the pink pony asked, “And which pony would that be, Ernest?”

The Troll Fighter looked at the earth pony weirdly.  “Mr. Cake, of course.”

“What?”  Pinkie screeched into the microphone.

Hearing glass shatter behind him, Ernest turned around to see Mr. Cake looking dumbly at him.  The yellow pony had dropped a tray of sugary treats in utter surprise.  Taking the microphone from Pinkie Pie, Ernest walked over to stand beside the now very nervous pony.

“This man right here let me have a chocolate milk shake for free.  Now during my match with that . . . mad cow thing, that was all I thought about.  I knew win or loose, I had something good coming to me on the other side.  It was the little nudge I needed to see me through.”

After patting Mr. Cake on the back, Ernest walked back to the arm wrestling table and climbed on top of it.  “If President Washington didn’t have his little nudge, then he would not have had the peace of mind to defend the Alamo against the Japanese.” 

The ponies began to look at each other in confusion as the costumed stallion continued to speak.	

“Or what if Stormin’ Normin’ didn’t have his nudge?  Why, he might have led his war elephants against the Romans instead of the Spanish.  Need I say more, ladies and gentleman?”

The ponies stared blankly back at him.  “Okay folks, the point is the nudge will get you through whatever life throws at you.”  Looking right at Mr. Cake, Ernest said, “I’d tip my hat to you if it hadn’t got burned to a crisp.”

The yellow pony smiled and mouthed the words “Thank You” to Ernest.

Climbing back off the table, Ernest strolled over to Pinkie Pie and asked, “Any other questions?”

“That was the greatest thing I’ve ever heard,” Pinkie said tearfully.

After the hoof wrestling contest, the strange pony from Briarville was the toast of the bakery.  Nopony had ever bested a minotaur at hoof wrestling in ages.  For the next few hours, Ernest partied like he rarely had before, striking up many friendships in the process.  At Pinkie’s request, Ernest awkwardly joined the ponies in dancing.  As the human danced to a beat called the navigator, Rimshot chomped his master on the foot.  The beagle had been waiting for Ernest to see him for the past ten minutes. 

“Ow!  Oh, Hi Rimshot.  You having a good time?”  Ernest asked as he continued to flail his arms and legs.  “I thought you were playing with Fluttershy.”

The dog shook his head and yipped a few times.

“It’s twilight already?  We haven’t been here that long, have we?”  Ernest looked up at a clock.  “See, it’s only two.”

Rimshot put a paw over his face in frustration and barked more slowly.  

Ernest stopped dancing.  Another pony nearly crashed into him as a result.  “Sorry, big fella, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Eyup,” Big Mac growled as the human slipped away from the dance floor.

Ernest knelt down to Rimshot and whispered, “Okay, what’s wrong with Twilight?”

After Rimshot gave several rapid woofs and yips, Ernest replied, “Well, how was I supposed to know that was a piece of mail?”

The beagle gave a soft growl.

“I know, I know . . . but what do I tell her?”

Before Rimshot could answer, his owner held up a hand.  “Never mind.  It shouldn’t be too hard to talk a Princess out a funk.   After all, I am Ernest P. Worrell, counselor of the crowned, coach of the crushed, and  . . . what’s another job that begins with c?”	

At this point Rimshot bit him again.

“Ow, ow! Okay, I’m going.  You’re pretty mean for such a small dog.” 

Twilight sighed to herself as she watched the other ponies dancing from her almost vacant table.  She would have joined in, but ever since Ernest had read that private letter from Princess Celestia in front of everypony . . . Seated across from her was Spike. He was trying hopelessly to repair the hole he had burned in the center of Ernest’s hat with a piece of floss and a napkin.  The alicorn looked over at her assistant and smiled sadly.  “Well, Spike, you get an A for effort, but I think I would let Rarity look at it.” 

Spike looked at his handy work.  “I don’t know.  I think it looks better than before.”  He didn’t sound convinced though.  Spike set the hat aside and looked up at the Princess.  “Why don’t you go ahead and join in, Twilight?  You love this dance.”  

The pony shook her head.  “No thanks, Spike.  I don’t feel like it.  I’m just ready for this party to be over with.  I had enough for one day.”  Before Spike could react, she put her head down on the table and covered her face with her hooves.  She sat there for a few moments until she heard that irritatingly familiar voice.

“You’re tired too, huh?  I don’t blame ya.  I haven’t partied like this since Vern had that Thanksgiving shindig back in eighty-five.  I wonder if he’s still sore with me for catapulting a root beer filled pumpkin through his bedroom window.”

Twilight sat up quickly and rubbed her eyes.  “Oh, Ernest, uh. . . how are you?  Are you having fun?” 

Ernest grinned at the Princess.  “Well . . . I haven’t been kicked out, so it’s better than way over half the parties I’ve been to.”  Looking down at his old burnt hat Ernest’s eyes grew huge in wonder as he picked it up.

“Wow, Princess, I didn’t know you could sew.  This looks amazing!  The elaborate stitching, the superb texture, it’s . . . it’s . . .”

“It’s Spike’s work, not mine,” Twilight finished.

Ernest winced as he turned to the baby dragon.  “Great job, Spike.  Keep this up, and you’ll be rolling in the dough.”

Spike scratched Rimshot behind the ears and beamed proudly at Ernest.    

“Hey, Spike.  Could you do me a favor?”  Ernest asked.

“Sure.”

“Could you show Rimshot where the restroom is?  It’s about time for him to do his dog business.”

Surprised, Spike looked at the beagle.  “He can use a bathroom?”

Ernest nodded.  “Oh, yeah . . . but he needs help washing his paws when he’s done.”

The dragon’s face darkened.  He was about to ask why Rimshot just couldn’t go outside, but the dog started to whimper as he looked at Spike pleadingly.	

The little dragon sighed.  “Oh, okay.  But only because it’s your party day.”  Turning to the beagle, Spike said, “Come on, boy, let’s go.”

As the dragon and dog left the bakery, Ernest turned his attention back to the Princess.  “Is this seat taken, your highness?”  

Twilight shook her head, amused at the human’s painfully awkward social skills.

As the Troll Fighter sat down, he realized that he had no clue what to say to the alicorn to make her feel better.

Noticing that Ernest was staring blankly into space, Twilight asked, “What’s on your mind?”

The human blinked.  “Wait a second; I’m supposed to ask you that.  How did you know I was going to say that?  Can you read minds too, Princess?”

“No, Ernest, I can’t read your mind,” Twilight said patiently.

Ernest nodded.  “I wish you could.  It would be easier to tell you how sorry I am.  I didn’t mean to make you look bad earlier in front of all your subjects.  I did the same thing back in school when my fourth grade English teacher made me read a love note I was composing in class.  The girl beat me up after school.  Um. . . well, I’d understand if you want to do the same.  Would a punch make you feel better?  Just don’t mess up my face too bad.”  

Twilight leaned back in her seat, “I’m not going to hit you.  It wasn’t your fault.  Princess Celestia and Princess Luna both rule Equestria.  They bring up the sun and moon and have royal duties that are very important.  I’m a Princess too, but the only thing I’m in charge of is the library here in town.   I’ve saved both their royal hind quarters on more than one occasion, and all I get for it is a pair of wings and a title.  I mean, I love the wings.  But, I have no royal duties, no real subjects, and virtually no respect for being a Princess.”  Giving a slight sigh, she continued, “And now on top of all that, I am the Princess of Panicking Over Ordinary Problems.  I am the POOP Princess.”

Ernest looked at the Princess thoughtfully when she finished speaking.  “You know, your highness, it has been my experience that the ordinary problems are the ones that need the most attention, especially if you’re a janitor.  One moment you’re trying to get a vacuum cleaner to work, and the next thing you know, you’re being chased by filing cabinets that want to run you over.”

Twilight laughed, “Someday, you’re going to have to tell me how that happened.”

Ernest shuddered, “It’s a long story that involves a lot of electricity.”  Capitalizing on making the pony laugh, the garbage man continued, “Princess, I know how you feel.  I’ve been there.  I’ve seen the movie and bought the T-shirt.  Take it from me, things will get better.”  The human smiled.  “I mean look at me.  I was a janitor at a bank, but then I got a job as a sanitation engineer for an entire town . . . before I got fired.”

The alicorn smiled a little at that.

“And besides . . .” Ernest continued, “At the end of the day, you still have your friends.  And this old Troll Fighter would be honored to be counted as one of them.”

Twilight got out of her seat and gave Ernest a hug.  “Thank you.  Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

“Did it work?  Cause I can keep trying.  Old Granpappy Worrell once said, ‘Never leave a blue pony down.’”

Letting go of Ernest, Twilight asked, “Did he really say that?”

“Yeah, he was asleep when he said it, but I understand what he meant now."		

> Gotcha
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What a stupid place to put a magic tree,” Rotnart muttered to himself as he climbed a stone staircase carved into a cliff.  He wiped the sweat from his huge forehead. “It’s in the middle of a damn hole.”

An unpleasant, high-pitched, squeaky voice answered him. “You got a point there, boss. I don’t like trees either.  You never know what the filthy things are thinking about.  They could be plotting to feast on our entrails or something.”

This made Rotnart stop in his tracks and turn around.  He had been enduring his younger brother’s weird utterings ever since he was born, but that was bizarre even for him.  

“Rabuf, do you know what a tree is?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rabuf replied. “They’re blue hairy things that hide in gopher holes.  They only come out when you’re taking a piss.”

“Oh, #$&!”  the troll king exclaimed as he pinched the bridge of his huge nose. 

“Did I get it right?”  the younger troll asked hopefully.

Rotnart nodded and continued up the steps.  It was simply easier to agree with the younger troll.  After all, he couldn’t get much worse than this, could he?   

“Rabuf, if I decided to push you off, would you live?” Rotnart grumbled. 

Rabuf looked down the six-story drop below them.  After picking his nose in thought, he declared, “Yeah, I definitely would.”

“Figures,” Rotnart muttered to himself. 

Minutes later, the two reached the top of the cliff and looked about.  They were still in a forest, although the fog that surrounded them was new.  

“Where in the hell are we?” the troll king asked airily.  The older troll regretted not asking Discord that question while they were playing that dumb game.

“Don’t know.  Maybe we can ask directions from that pile of rocks,” Rabuf answered, pointing into the forest.

“Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you,” the older troll said angrily.

“No, really, boss, there’s a huge pile of rocks over there. I bet it knows where we are.”

“I said shut up!” 

“Maybe it knows how to read,” Rabuf said thoughtfully. “I bet if you ask nicely, the rock pile could read that book of yours.”

The troll king balled his fists in rage.  Beyond the mist lay the ruins of an enormous ancient castle.  In order to reach the castle, the trolls would have to cross a rickety old rope bridge.  Having nowhere else to go, Rotnart pointed at the rope bridge. “You first, Rabuf.”

Rabuf grinned crookedly, “Aye-aye, boss.”  With that, the troll took off at a sprint across the bridge.

The elder troll screamed after him, “Slow down, for %#*@ sake!”  

Ignoring the command, the lighter troll barreled across.  The bridge groaned and swayed in protest but miraculously supported the troll’s weight.

Rabuf looked back and shouted, “Come on, boss! The last one to the rock pile is slow!”

Ignoring his younger brother, Rotnart swallowed nervously and took his first step onto the bridge.  The wooden plank creaked ominously.  

“I hate milk, humans, Ernest, thorn bushes, Discord, Rabuf, and this bridge,” he muttered as he slowly but surely made his way across.  When he was halfway across, the bridge started to shake.  Scared out his mind, Rotnart grabbed the rope support and held on for dear life.  Seconds later, the movement and shaking stopped.  The troll king took a few cautious steps forward, and the vibrations started again.  As Rotnart screwed his eyes shut, he heard laughing at the other end of the bridge.

“I swear to Trantor, I’m gonna kill you!””  Rotnart screamed to his sibling who was lazily pulling on the ropes of the bridge.

“Come on, boss, stop fooling around.  I’m bored,”  Rubuf said lazily as he began to jump up and down on the bridge.

Rage spurring him forward, Rotnart began to muse about how to properly dispose of his brother for this indignity.  

“Hey, boss, I see a thing,” Rabuf said suddenly. “I’m gonna check it out.”

Rotnart roared back, “No!  Stay put you coward, and take what’s coming to ya!”  

After thanking the evil demons for not letting him die, due to his brother’s stupidity, the older troll drew his sword and looked around for his sibling.  

“Rabuf, where are you?”  No answer.  Bearing his green and brown teeth in a snarl, Rotnart cleaved through a thick sapling like a hot knife through butter.  This did little to relieve his burning frustration.  He was not only mad at his brother, but at himself as well.  For the past twelve hours he had tried everything he could think of to turn that blasted tree of harmony into something much more heinous.  Oh sure, if he had a couple of hundred years and nothing better to do, he could warp the tree like his father had done in Briarville.  But who had that kind of time?  Deep down in his gut, the troll king knew that the answer to all his problems could be found in his book . . . which he couldn’t read.    

Not wanting to dwell on this depressing fact, he turned his attention back to the present.  Rotnart sheathed his sword and and wondered if Rabuf had already gone into the ruins.  As he pondered this, he heard a great crash from inside.

“Yep, the idiot’s in there,” declared the troll.  

Rotnart was amazed as he entered the castle.  It seemed to be much bigger on the inside.  Everywhere he looked there were pictures, banners, and statues of horses in clothing.  

“What the hell?”  he muttered.  

One particular painting caught his eye, and he walked closer to get a better look.  It seemed familiar to him somehow.  Rotnart set down his bag and rummaged through it until he pulled out Discord’s note pad.  He flipped to the page where the freak had been drawing a crowned, winged horse with a huge sun on its butt.  Sure enough, the two horses were identical, except the one in the painting didn’t look like a slut.  As soon as this thought crossed his mind, something strange happened.  Where the crowned horse had been staring majestically into the distance with its large eyes, now those eyes blinked and looked right at him.

“AAAAAHH!”  the king of the trolls screamed and jumped backward.  Rotnart landed on a stone tile that shifted beneath him.  He heard a clicking noise and SPROING!

Rotnart was launched straight up into the air.  He screamed as his enormous head smashed into the stone ceiling, leaving spider-web cracks.  He plummeted back down, landing on the floor in a heap.    A stone chunk of the ceiling broke away and fell squarely on his groin.  Every single inch of his body throbbed in agonizing pain.  Rotnart could have sworn he saw the horse portrait wince in sympathy.    

“Boss? Boss, are you okay?”

Rotnart opened his eyes.  What met his gaze was the ugliest thing he had ever seen.  Before Rotnart could scream his lungs out, he recognized the face of his brother.

“Did a tree get ya?” Rabuf asked. “A tree got ya, didn’t it?”

“What?  No.  A *^$%ing rock fell on my balls, you moron.” The older troll grunted as Rabuf helped him to his feet.  

Rabuf nodded, still talking about trees. “Gotta watch out for those little bastards.  They come up right underneath ya and bite you on the . . .”

“For the love of Evil Demons, shut up.”  Rotnart interrupted as he pushed his brother away.

He took several deep breaths.  His crotch felt like several mules had taken turns kicking it.  The older troll tried walking, but he could only do so with his legs spread widely apart, and each step made him want to puke.  

Rotnart asked, wincing, “Where have you been?”

Before Rabuf could answer, Rotnart held up his hand.  “Never mind. I wouldn’t understand one bit of it.”

As the older troll stooped to pick up his bag, he glanced at the winged horse painting.  Sure enough, its eyes were looking at a different place than before.  The horse seemed to be gazing at something behind the two trolls.  

Pointing at the picture, the troll king declared, “That thing’s eyes move.”

Rabuf gazed at the painting contemplatively.  He closed his eyes and opened them.  He did this a few more times before putting his hands over his face so he could not see.  He repeated this action several times.  “Great Googlily Moogily, boss, you’re right.  No matter what I do, it’s still looking at me.” 

Rotnart sighed and slowly dragged his hand over his face.  With all the patience he could muster, the troll king replied, “The horse ain’t looking at you.  It’s looking at something . . .” Rotnart gaped at the painting.  He followed the horse’s gaze and found himself looking at a suit of horse armor.

The troll king hit his brother. “Stand by that tin can over there.”

“Right, boss, where is it?”  Rabuf asked as he searched the ceiling for the object.  

Rotnart grabbed his brother by the nose, pulled his face down, and pointed.

“Oh, there it is.  Why does it have four legs?  Is it made for a war opossum? ”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.  It’s made for opossums,”  Rotnart replied as he wiped his snot drenched hand on his brother’s shirt.  “Just go over there and play with it.  See what happens.”

“Goodie, goodie, goodie!” Rabuf tittered as he gleefully began to tear into the armor and eat it.  As he was doing this, Rotnart glanced at the painting.  The troll king was curious if the horse in the picture would react.  The white horse, however, continued to stare at the now decimated suit of armor with no reaction.

“Hey, boss.  Buuuuuuuurrrrrrp! ‘Scuse me.  I found something in the opossum armor.”

Surprised, Rotnart waddled over.  While Rabulf picked splinters of plate mail from his teeth, he held up a rolled up scroll in-between spit-covered fingers.  Snatching the parchment from his siblings clutches, the troll king broke the black wax seal and began to read.  It had but one word written in dark ink that covered the entire parchment.

Gotcha

Rotnart whirled to face the painting.  The winged, white horse was looking right at him with a grin that made the blood in his veins freeze.  Before Rotnart could shout a warning to his brother, he heard a single note from a pipe organ, and his world began to spin.  The troll king fought to keep his enormous lunch of grass and rocks down as his stomach tried to keep up with the rest of his body.  Shaking his head, the troll found himself in a hall filled with more horse armor.

“No!”  The troll king yelled as he pounded the wall with his fists.  

“What’s the matter, boss?”  Rabuf asked in-between mouthfuls of plate mail.

“My pack! It’s right there in the middle of this demon’s damned castle.  Anybody can waltz right up to that bag and pick it up.”

“Well, it should be fine then.”

Rotnart turned around and glared down at his brother. “What do you mean?”	

After finishing the last of the armor, Rabuf stood up.  “I don’t think that many people know how to waltz.  I only know how to polka.”

That was the last straw.  Something snapped in Rotnart’s mind as he said quietly, “Rabuf, close your eyes.  I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?  For me?  You’re the best, boss!”  the younger troll exclaimed happily as he shut his eyes.

Drawing his sword from his sheath, Rotnart aimed a blow at his brother’s head like he was about to split a ripe watermelon.  Right as he was about to deliver his killing strike, the pipe organ began to play again.  The older troll frowned.   Should he kill Rabuf now or go see who was strangling the cat and then kill Rabuf?

“Decisions, decisions,”  Rotnart muttered to himself as he mulled the choices in his head. 

“Boss?  Boss, where’s my present?”

Rabuf’s question jarred Rotnart out of his musing.  Making his choice, Rotnart sheathed his sword.  “Come on, I’ll kill--I mean, I’ll give you your present later.” 

The pair followed the haunting music until they entered a new hall filled with mounted horse hooves.  Both trolls stared at the grizzly trophies while the organ continued to play.

“Somebody really likes opossum feet.”  

“Don’t touch em,” growled Rotnart as the pair advanced down the passage.  The duo cautiously walked down the hall of hooves until they reached a dead end.  Pressing his hands against the solid wall, Rotnart fumed in frustration as the direction of the music changed.  It now sounded like the noise was coming from beneath them.

“What in the hell have we gotten ourselves into?”  Rotnart asked angrily.

Rabuf pressed his ear to the wall. “I don’t think he heard ya, boss.  Let me try.”

Clearing his throat, the younger troll screamed at the stones, “What in the hell have we gotten ourselves into?!”

The pipe organ stopped playing.  The two trolls froze, afraid to breathe, let alone move.  A single note blared from the pipe instrument, scaring the two trolls half to death.   Behind them, a section of stone floor retracted to reveal a slide that led into darkness.  

Rotnart pushed aside his brother. “What the hell, it’s my turn to go first anyway.”  

With that, Rotnart dove head first down the hole.  Immediately the troll king regretted his hasty decision as he plummeted down unbelievably fast.   Worse, it was pitch black.  He screamed as he made loop loop-de-loops, U turns, and pitfalls onto other slides.  He went deeper into the bowels of the castle until the slide angled upwards and ended abruptly.  Rotnart went flying off the slide and found himself tumbling across something relatively soft.  The troll’s heart thundered in his ears as he shakily got to his feet and looked around.  He was in a vast chamber surrounded by royal purple tapestries.  In the center of the room was a huge pipe organ, flanked by two statues of pegasus.  But what truly captured the troll’s attention was a cloaked figure sitting on the organ bench.

Without turning, the figure spoke in a feminine voice. “I wouldn’t stand there if I were you.” 

The warning came too late.  Rotnart was slammed from behind by his laughing brother.  

Rabuf giggled, “Best!  Ride!  Ever!”  He turned to the stranger. “Hey, did you see my brother come down here?  He’s short, grumpy, and can’t read.”  Hearing very angry grunts and swearing from underneath him, Rabuf got off his sibling.  “Never mind, I found him.”

The humiliated king of trolls scrambled to his feet and drew his sword.  “I swear to Trantor, I’m gonna make you eat your own balls when I catch you!”

Rabuf dodged a swipe from his brother. “Now, boss, I know you’re sensitive about that book, but you got to let it go.  I mean just because you can’t read doesn’t make you any less of a troll.”

“I $&#*ing hate you!”  Rotnart screamed as he threw a rock at his brother.  The missile missed its intended target and landed on several organ keys, making a blood curdling sound.

“ENOUGH!”  the cloaked figure commanded.  

Both trolls froze like grotesque manikins as they slowly turned their heads toward the organ.  A black aura surrounded the cloaked figure as it floated ominously.  The hair on the back of Rotnart’s neck stood up as the creature got closer.  Trembling, the older troll pointed his sword at the hooded creature. “You don’t command me, cretin.  I am Rotnart, heir to the throne of Trantor Double Nose.”

The hooded creature laughed.   In the blink of an eye the cloak disappeared, and a huge dark mare stood before them.  Garbed in midnight blue plate mail and grinning with more sharp teeth than a horse should have, it towered over the two brothers.  The winged unicorn was terrible and beautiful to behold with its starry mane and black spheres for eyes.  The troll king stared at the equine figure in uncontained terror.  His sword dropped from his limp fingers.  He could not tear his eyes from the ebony orbs that stared back at him.  

The horn in the center of the monster’s head began to glow with purple and green energy as she asked, “Why are you here?  And why shouldn’t I kill you?”

Before Rotnart could stammer out a response, Rabuf got down on one knee and answered,  “My brother and I are here to give you our tongues, oh great black opossum of the under castle.”

The black alicorn blinked.  “What?”

Picking up on his brother’s garbled line of thinking, the older troll chimed in, “What he means, dark one, is that we have come a great distance to serve you.”

The pony didn’t answer, at least not with words.  Instead the alicorn lowered her head and a beam of magic shot forth from her horn, entering the minds of the two trolls.

Moments later, after blinking away the after images of the blinding light, Rotnart heard the black pony say in a surprised voice, “No, I don’t believe it.”

Rabuf clutched his head, “Boss! Boss! Did she read my mind with magic?  Oh my gosh, she can read!”

The pony rushed over to the organ and pressed a series of keys.  A hole appeared in the ceiling, and Rotnart’s pack fell to the floor.  The dark pony levitated the wooden Discord doll out of the bag.  Her eyes widened. “So it’s true.  You did turn him into a statue.”  She laughed a little. “It seems destined for him to be frozen in some form or another.”

Puffing up his chest Rotnart declared, “Yeah, I turned him into a doll, and I’ll do the same to you if you don’t let us out of here.”

Without even turning around, the pony hit another key on the organ.  An entire wall of the castle slid away to reveal all kinds of food stuffs, including shelf upon shelf of canned and powdered milk.  

While still examining the statue, the pony asked, “You were saying?”

The troll king turned as white as the milk he was staring at.  “I, uh, said I can do the same thing to your enemies, oh dark one.”

“Alright, milk!   Boy am I thirsty,”  Rabuf declared happily as he jogged towards the pantry.  

“Rabuf, don’t drink the white stuff!”  Rotnart yelled at his brother.

Stopping in the midst of upending an entire jar of milk into his mouth, Rabuf moaned, “Aw, boss, you’re never any fun. . .”

“Just drink the crap next to it.”  

Rabuf obeyed and began drinking jar after jar of vinegar. 

The alicorn glanced at the younger troll. “He’s a few phases short of a full moon, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea,”  Rotnart replied, as Rabuf began to eat the glass jars.

“I’ll make a deal with you, troll,” the alicorn hissed. “In exchange for not killing you, you must get rid of six particular ponies for me.”

The troll king grimaced. “Oh great, there’s more of you?  How many %^*#ing horses are there?”

In response, the alicorn shot another lance of magic at the two trolls.  Their minds were filled with a multitude of images and information about the world they were in.  Rotnart staggered under the weight of knowledge that the pony had given him. “Holy crap.”  He looked at the alicorn with new respect.  

Rabuf said, “Oh, wow. Ponies eat a lot of cake.”  

“Yes, and I recommend you corrupt the Tree of Harmony fully before you attempt to take on the six,” the alicorn replied.

Rotnart pursed his huge lips together as he mumbled something incoherently. 

“What did you say?”  the Pony of Shadows asked.

The troll took a deep breath and tried again, but he could not force the words out of his mouth.

“What?  Spit it out!”  she ordered.

Rabuf let out a huge belch and declared, “He still can’t read the book that tells him how to do that.”

Rotnart closed his eyes and nodded his head in shame.

The Pony of Shadows levitated the book out of Rotnart’s bag and flipped through it.  Frowning, she turned the book upside down.  After flipping through a few more pages, she handed the book to Rotnart.  “Try reading the book right side up. It helps.”

Rabuf roared with laughter and wet himself as Rotnart turned several shades of scarlet.

In-between gales of laughter, the younger troll howled, “Oh sweet Trantor.  That’s funny.  Even a dummy like me could have figured that one out.”

“Shut up,”  the older troll commanded.  “You probably would have just ate the damn thing before looking at it.”

“Naw, I’d just use it for poo paper,” replied the younger troll happily.

Ignoring his brother, Rotnart cracked open the book and began skimming pages that used to be illegible.  Satisfied, he snapped the book closed. “I accept your proposal.”  Rotnart held out his hand to seal the deal.

She glared at the troll. “You’re lucky that I’m letting you keep those filthy things.”

Rotnart quickly withdrew his hand and stuffed it in his pocket.

The alicorn walked back to the organ and played a particularly horrifying note that made the troll king’s skin crawl.  A tunnel opened behind him. 

As the trolls made to leave, the Pony of Shadows called out, “Remember our agreement, troll.  If you do not keep your end of the bargain, you can be assured of your swift end.  I left a spell in both your minds should you fail me.”

Sweating, Rotnart turned. “Don’t worry.  Those six are as good as wood now that I can read my book.  And when I’m through with them, I’ll come for you.”  Rotnart smiled as he mumbled that last sentence to himself.

> Hoo Boy, You're Gonna Get It
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“From the innocence of five, an evil army shall arise.  When blossoms shower down like rain, my dark kingdom shall come again.  There is one who can stop me if he will dare, with the heart of a child and a mother’s care.”

The words sent a shudder down Twilight’s back as she read Ernest’s book.  She noticed Ernest was squirming in the chair he was occupying.  Even Rimshot looked uneasy.

“I’m sorry, Ernest.  I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Ernest waved off the apology.  “It’ll take more than a dusty old prophecy to scare Ernest P. Worrell.  Besides, that problem is over and done with.  It is finished, Kaput, dead and buried.  You could stick a fork in it and serve it for dinner.  You know what I mean?”

“Hoo.”

Ernest grabbed Rimshot and hugged him to his chest.  “What was that?”

Twilight stifled a laugh.  “That’s Owlicious, Spike’s assistant, here at the library.”

Ernest looked to where the alicorn was pointing and saw an owl perched on a telescope.  Ernest set Rimshot down and strolled over to the owl.  He offered his hand in greeting. 

“Howdy, friend.  My name is Ernest.  Ernest P. Worrell.”

“Hoo,” came the reply.

“Hey, you’re right.  I do have a cousin down in the Everglades named Hoo.  Well, it’s not his real name, more like a nickname.  My uncle, Dingas Worrell, always said, ‘Hoo, boy, you’re gonna get it’ whenever my cousin got into trouble.  My cousin got into trouble a lot.”

Owlicious blinked.

“Where’re you from?”  the human asked.

“Hoo.”  

“Hoo, Missouri?  Hoo, Idaho?  No, no, don’t tell me, you’re from Hoo Sonora, aren’t ya?  You have a deep, deep South look to ya.  You know what I mean?”

Rimshot barked up at his master, unable to take anymore.

The Troll Fighter glanced at his dog.  “What do you mean that’s all he can say?  If you give me a second, I’ll get his address, and we can be pen pals.”

Shaking her head in amusement, Twilight chimed in.  “Actually, Ernest, Rimshot is right.  He doesn’t speak our language.”

“I thought he was holding his o’s a bit long,” Ernest muttered to himself.

He looked around the room.  An exquisitely crafted telescope gleamed near the window. 

“Wow, Rimshot, take a look at this.  I bet you could see the man in the moon from here if ya knew where to look.”

“Oh, be my guest,” Twilight said cheerfully.  She kept her back to Ernest, engrossed in the book. “The adjustment knob can stick sometimes.   Just wiggle it gently.”  

“Excuse me, Owldelicious.  Do you have any recommendations on where to point this thing?”

Ernest looked through the eyepiece.  “Hmm, all I see is this black blob everywhere.”  

Rimshot yipped.  

“Of course, I know the lens cover is still on.  I was just practicing.”  

Rimshot rolled his eyes.

After taking off the lens cap, Ernest panned the telescope around from point to point as enthusiastically as a child.  “This is great.  Hey, there’s the Apple Farm!  I wonder if I can see my truck from here?”  Ernest tried to turn the magnification knob, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Hey, Ernest?”  Twilight called over her shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, your highness?”

“Where did Trantor come from?  This book doesn’t really talk about his origins.”

The Troll Fighter answered as he put more torque on the knob.  “Well, Granpappy Worrell talked some about that when I wore smaller clothes.  He said the troll followed the first settlers of Briarville from a place called The Old World.”

SNAP!

Ernest’s mouth dropped in horror as the knob broke off in his hand.  He whirled around, wondering if Twilight had heard.  The alicorn’s ears perked up.  She turned her head toward the human, a concerned look on her face.  Before she could ask if something was wrong, Ernest continued in a hurried voice, “I can’t find that place on a map anywhere though.  You wouldn’t know where The Old World is, would you, your highness?”

Twilight put her hoof to her chin in thought.  “Maybe.  That name sounds familiar.”  Smiling gleefully, she said, “I have a detailed map of Equestria.  Let me dig that out, and we’ll both take a look at it.  I’ll be right back.”

As the Princess trotted up a spiral staircase, Ernest turned his attention back to the telescope.   “Oh, no.  You think she’s gonna notice this, Rimshot?”

“Hoo!”

Ernest looked up at Owlicious who was nodding vigourously.

“Hey, can you help us out?”  Ernest turned and his arm connected with the telescope.  To his utter horror, the big lens popped out and shattered on the floor. 

The owl’s eyes grew three times their normal size.  “HOO-OOO!”

“Shh!”  Ernest tried to quiet the now hysterical owl.  “I can fix it.  Where’s a blow torch?”  Ernest whispered loudly.  

The owl shook his head and continued to shout, flying up the spiral staircase.

“Ernest?  Is everything alright down there?  I thought I heard something break,” Twilight called.

“Uh, no, no! Everything is mostly solid down here.  Take your time!”

At that moment, the door to the library opened, and a baby dragon waddled inside with a beautifully wrapped present.  “Hi, Ernest, where’s--what did you do!?”  Spike asked pointing at the broken telescope.

“I don’t know what happened!” Ernest insisted.  “I just turned the knob a teeny bit, and the next thing I knew, it fell apart.”

Spike ignored him.  “Oh no, this is bad!  If she finds out that you broke one of her telescopes, you won’t get ice cream for a month.”

Ernest covered his mouth in shock.  “A fate worse than death itself.  We can’t let that happen.  We’ve got to hide it.”

Spike nodded, and without another word, the dragon and human began to move the telescope.  Hearing hoof falls on wooden stairs, Rimshot barked a warning to the movers.  

“She’s coming,” Ernest said panicking.

“Quick, hand me that blanket.  Thank Celestia I haven’t done the laundry yet.”

No sooner had they covered the stargazing instrument, Twilight reached the bottom of the stairs levitating a huge map.

“Hi, Spike.  I didn’t hear you come in.  Something is bothering Owlicious.”

Landing back on his perch, the owl hooted nosily and pointed at the telescope with both his wings.  Twilight followed the owl’s gaze.  

“Why is my Cumulus 34 hundred wrapped in a blanket?”  

Trying desperately to block her view, Ernest and Spike stood their ground nervously.  The Troll Fighter answered first.

“So it won’t catch a cold.”

Spike stomped on the human’s foot, which elicited a stifled yelp of pain.  “What he means is, he’s was done using your Cumulus . . . whatever, so I decided to cover it up.  Hate to get dust on it.”

Twilight smiled at her assistant.  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Spike, but you know that the telescope dust covers are in the closet.  Take that blanket off and use one of those.”

Spike started to sweat as the Princess waited for her Spike to uncover the Cumulus.  Ernest looked up and noticed that the owl was grinning maliciously at the baby dragon and his predicament.  Coming to Spike’s aid, Ernest pointed at the map Twilight was holding.  “Hey, is that the map you were looking for?”

Twilight turned her attention to the floating scroll.  “Yes, it is.  Let’s take a look at it.  I’ve been dying to use this scroll for weeks.”

From above them, Ernest heard the owl slap a wing across his feathery forehead in frustration.  As the alicorn cleared a large table of books and lab equipment, Spike quietly got a Twilight sanctioned dust cover from the closet.  He was waiting for the right moment to replace the blanket without Twilight noticing.   Using her magic, the Princess unrolled the large scroll.  

“Holy Moley.”  Ernest gaped at the enormous, extremely detailed map of Equestria .  “I’d hate to find Waldo on this thing.”

A magnifying glass floated over to the human.  “Come on.  This will be fun!”

Turning toward Spike, Ernest gave him the thumbs up sign, and the baby dragon began to delicately take the blanket off the telescope.

After an hour of staring at the map, Ernest had trouble keeping his eyes open.  He glanced over at Spike who was snoring by the telescope using the blanket as a pillow.  Turning his attention back to the map, Ernest was about to fall asleep himself.  Then he saw something that made him sit upright in his chair.  

“Found it!”  Ernest yelled.

Spike’s leapt up in fright at the sudden shout.  He lost his balance and fell against the Cumulus telescope.   A heart-wrenching crash filled the air as the telescope hit the ground.

In an instant Twilight teleported to Spike’s side.  “Spike, are you okay?  Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, Twilight.  I’m real sorry about the Cumulus though.”

“I don’t care about the telescope, Spike,” she chided.  “It’s a replica.  It only cost me a few bits at the Canterlot gift store.”

Ernest and Spike looked at each other in surprise.  Then they both started laughing hysterically.   Even Rimshot and Owlicious were hooting and barking with mirth.

“What’s so funny?”  asked Twilight.

Recovering enough oxygen to speak, Spike pointed at Ernest.  “He broke the telescope before I did."

The alicorn sniffed in disapproval.  “I thought so.”

The Troll Fighter instantly sobered.  “I didn’t mean to, Princess.  It was an accident.  I just turned that knob a little bit and . . .”

“Ernest,”  Twilight started to say.

“And then these huge ninja turtles came out of nowhere . . .”

“Ernest.”  

“I tried to fend them off with my hip-hop-kido training, but there were too many of them, and they--”

“ERNEST!”  Twilight screamed.

The human cringed at the alicorn’s voice.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you broke it in the first place?  I can repair it easily.”

Ashamed, Ernest looked down at his feet.  “I’m sorry, your majesty, but when Spike told me I wouldn’t get any ice cream for a month, I kind of panicked.”

“What?”  Twilight asked as she turned her glare on Spike.

“Whoops.  Or maybe it was just for the day,” the baby dragon said sheepishly.

“You boys are so alike,” Twilight sighed.  “Next time either of you break something, just tell me.”  

The human and dragon nodded solemnly. 

“Show me what you found, Ernest,” Twilight said.

Ernest pointed to a very tiny dot on the map that was well north of the Crystal Empire.

“Fascinating,” Twilight murmured.  “If I remember my studies in Princess Celestia’s Equestrian Ancient History class, she said something about an ancient troll city north of the Crystal Empire.  They had their own subterranean kingdom deep beneath the snow and ice.  According to legend, King Sombra corrupted the once peaceful trolls and used them to help him conquer the Crystal Empire.  But when he had no further use for them, he banished them all to Tartarus.”

“So, that’s where old Squid Lips came from,” Ernest proclaimed.

“I don’t know about that, Ernest.  The troll that is pictured in your book is way different from the trolls I remember studying.  And if Trantor did come from our world, how did he end up in yours?” 

Ernest’s eyes glazed over as his brain worked overtime to come up with possible answers.  “I don’t know.  Magic maybe?”

“Possibly,”  she replied.

“Really?  I wish I had you as a teacher during middle school.  I used that answer a lot and none of my teachers liked it very much.”

The alicorn smiled from ear to ear.  “Oh, this is so exciting!  Just think of all the possible research we can do on this topic.”   

Rubbing his eyes in weariness, Ernest said, “Well, you go ahead and get to studying, your highness.  I think I’m gonna take a walk around the town and stretch my mode of locomotion.  You know what I mean?”

Head buzzing with anticipation, Twilight nodded.  “That’s fine.  Just be sure to stay out of trouble.”  

“Oh, yeah.  I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.  Come on, Rimshot, let’s go for a walk.”

Wagging his tail gleefully, the beagle followed his master out the door.

“Hey, Ernest, wait!”  Spike called.

Sticking his head back through the door, Ernest looked quizzically at the baby dragon.

In between the dragon’s claws was the present.  “I owe you a hat,” he explained.

Ernest could not keep the utter surprise off his face as he looked at the beautifully wrapped white and purple present.  Ernest was so excited he tore into the package as if it was Christmas morning.  Inside the white cardboard box was a hat that was the exact make and model of his old one.

Tears welled in his eyes.  “I don’t know what to say.”

Spike grinned, “Thank Rarity.  She’s the one that made you a new one.  She thought about gluing the hat to your head, but I persuaded her not to do that.”

“Oh, I take it she’s still mad about me kissing her sister,” Ernest paused.  “That sounds a lot worse when I say it out loud.”

“Yeah, but I convinced her to make this hat for you as a favor.”

As Ernest stood in the daylight, he put on the hat.   It fit perfectly.  He turned to Spike and shook his clawed hand.  “Thanks, buddy.  I appreciate it.”

The baby dragon was about to reply when violet-stitched lettering began to appear on the face of the hat as the sun hit it.  I’m Stupid, it read.

“You’re Wel . . . You’re. . .”  Spike could not take his eyes off the words, not believing Rarity was capable of such vengeance.    

Stretching his back and legs, Ernest smiled.  “Well, I’m gonna get some exercise.  See ya later, alligator.”  With that, Ernest took off down the road.

Recovering, Spike was about to call after him.  But before he could, he felt a paw on his arm.  Looking down, the baby dragon saw the dog gazing up at him.  Rimshot shook his head and gave him a wink before taking off after his master.  

> Apple Farm Security
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

After leaving the library behind him, Ernest took a deep breath.  “Good ole country air; they don’t make it like they used to.  You know what I mean?”  

Rimshot nodded in agreement as they took off down the road toward the Apple Farm.  On the way, the dog and human saw several familiar pony faces from Pinkie’s party.  All of them were pointing at Ernest and laughing.  The Troll Fighter didn’t mind.  In fact, he was enjoying the attention immensely.  

“Ah, my adoring fans,” Ernest said as he waved back.  “You know, Rimshot, these are some good people, even if they’re not people.  I’m gonna miss this little corner of England.”

The beagle whimpered a little in reply.

Ernest looked down at his pet in sympathy.  “Hey, cheer up.  Maybe Princess Twilight will let us visit.”

The beagle’s tail wagged at the thought.

“Next time we gotta bring some roast beef or pork chops along.  I don’t know about you, but I could use a steak.”

Rimshot gave his master a curious glance and barked.

“Yeah, I know they don’t eat meat, but that’s because I bet they’ve never had it.  Trust me, they’ll come around after a good Kansas City barbecue.  Remind me to ask the Princess if we can do that next time we’re here.”

Rimshot shook his head.  They kept walking until they reached an apple tree covered hill that overlooked the rest of the orchards.  Standing underneath the trees, Ernest took in the view.  He could see the Apple family’s homestead and a tree house off in the distance.  For some reason, Ernest’s eyes kept drifting back to the tree house.  

The Troll Fighter picked up Rimshot.  “Hey, buddy, does that look familiar?”   He pointed to the tree house.  

The dog yipped.  

“Yep, that was our finest hour,” Ernest agreed.  “It was you, me . . . even though you were turned to wood, and some scrappy kids and their parents against a whole army of trolls on Halloween night.” 

The aircraft gunner in Ernest spoke suddenly. “Yeah, them troll devils were coming up the very flanks of the tree itself.  There was nowhere to go.  We were surrounded with nothing but milk, our guts, and a few inches of bark in-between us and them.”  

The lumberjack personality chimed in. “You got it, boss.  Lucky we built that tree fort so well.  We was lucky we had a tree to begin with cause there aren’t any trees in Botswana.  I know.  I am a Botswananian lumberjack and ain’t ever had a job.” 

“Trees and forts are for sissies who aren’t man enough to get slaughtered by us, the Ottomans.  I was rooting for the trolls the entire time.” 

By this point Rimshot had jumped down from his master’s arms.  He had a feeling that it was high time for his owner to give voice to his other personalities.  They hadn’t talked for a while.  The beagle was very thankful that this did not happen at the party.  That would have looked bad.

“Are you crazy?  Forts are great.  Pillow forts, chocolate forts, cotton forts.  You can fort anything.”

Rimshot paused as he was looking around.  That didn’t sound like his master.

“Oh, I agree totally, honey.  You can’t go wrong with a chocolate fort smothered in caramel sauce.  By the way, who does your mane?  It’s just sooooo gorgeous.”

The beagle whirled around to see Pinkie Pie balancing an apple basket on her head.  Currently she was talking to the hair dresser side of Ernest. 

“Nopony does my mane.  I just comb it with pink frosting everyday, and it keeps it nice, pink, and tasty,” Pinkie replied as she began to suck on her own hair.

Ernest’s girlish demeanor vanished as he said in Aunty Nelda’s voice, “Pink frosting you say?  That’s the problem with you children today.  You don’t know how good you have it.  Fifty years ago during the depression, we couldn’t afford frosting to comb our hair with.  Back then you were lucky you weren’t selling your hair to wig factories.   When I was your age we were lucky to comb our make-believe hair with mud.  And by Jove, we were happy to do it.”

“Oh my gosh, it’s true!”  Pinkie exclaimed.  “Granny Smith says the same thing.  I thought those were just stories.” 

Rimshot was watching the two interact in amazement.  This was the first animal or human to take Ernest’s multiple personality condition so well.    

Without skipping a beat, Ernest (the regular Ernest) asked the pink pony, “Why do you have an apple basket on your head?”   

“I’m just helping Applejack harvest apples for the day.  The Apple family is gearing up for their apple cider festival after Nightmare Night. Every pony looooves apples!”

“Do you need some help?”  Ernest offered.

“Naw, I think we got it.”  A thought occurred to Pinkie just then, and she gave the human an appraising glare.  “Hey, what are you doing, buster?  Did Rainbow Dash send you out here to spy on us?  You can tell her that she’ll get her cider when everypony else does.”

Ernest backed up against the tree.  “I swear, I don’t know anything about cider.  I- I didn’t even know you could make cider out of apples.  I thought the cider fairy made it and gave you some whenever you left an apple core under your pillow.”

Pinkie’s eyes lit up happily.  “Hmmmm, I never thought about trying that, but if that works for cakes, why not apples?”  A few seconds later she started to vibrate, then stopped just as abruptly. “I believe you, Ernest, but my Pinkie sense tells me I should send you to Apple Farm Security just in case you’re a Rainbow spy.”  The pony’s eyes shifted conspicuously.  “Rainbow has spies everywhere.” 

The human puffed up his chest as his Julius Caesar personality.  “A spy is a petty coward who is afraid of the light of justice.  I have nothing to fear but trolls, Ottomans, and piñatas.  Tell me, citizen, where is this farm security so that I may prove my obvious innocence?”

Pinkie turned around and pointed to the tree house.

“Of course, the high ground,” Ernest continued in his Roman voice.  As he began to walk toward his objective, he said to Rimshot, “Come my faithful legionnaire, we make for yon tree bastion.”

The pink mare waved.  “See ya later, Ernest.  Tell the Cutie Mark Crusaders I said Hi.”

This snapped Ernest out of his current personality quicker than a bucket of cold water to the face.  He pivoted on his heel.  

“The who?” he asked.  But he was too late.  Pinkie Pie was already bounding down the road to the apple farm.

Looking down at his dog, Ernest shrugged his shoulders and kept on walking.  As the garbage man and Rimshot came closer to the tree house, Ernest began to notice a few eerie things.  It looked like the tree fort had been under siege, and the defenders had lost.  Several holes had been blown into the fort’s walls and roof, and all of the windows had their glass shattered.     

Ernest paused to take this in.  “Maybe they’re decorating for Halloween, er, I mean Nightmare Night,” he pondered aloud.  But he didn’t believe his own words.  If the fort had been assaulted then, it had happened recently.  The scorch marks all along the edifice of the building were very fresh.  Something was wrong.

The human swallowed nervously and kept going, but his senses screamed at him to turn around.  He knew he couldn’t do that.  He had to find out what had happened and if he could help.  Ernest found himself walking up the ramp to the club house door.  Rimshot whimpered as Ernest raised his arm to knock.  

The human put on a brave face and laughed.  “Eh-heh-heh-heh.  Come on, boy, there’s nothing to be scared of.  It’s just a tree house.  I mean, it’s not like there are trolls or anything hiding inside.”

Before the beagle could reply, Ernest rapped his knuckles on the door.  He did this once, twice, and on the third time, a lance of moss-colored energy exploded from inside, just above his fingers.  The hole in the door was three times as big as Worrell’s fist.  

Panicking, the Troll Fighter yelled, “Hit the deck, Rimshot!”  With that, Ernest launched himself out of the way.  Unfortunately, he forgot that he had marched two stories above the ground as he plummeted to the grass below.  

“WHHAAAAA------!!!!”  Ernest’s scream was cut short as he landed head first in a gopher hole.  

Despite the situation, Rimshot couldn’t help but snicker at his master’s predicament.  If he had a camera, he would have taken a picture of Ernest’s body sticking feet first straight up a lodged arrow.

Rimshot was about to go assist him, when he heard something crash land behind him.

“Ooof.  Hey, I remember you.  You’re that guy’s pet, aren’t ya?” asked a voice behind Rimshot.

The beagle whirled around and recoiled in surprise.  He remembered the three costumed fillies he and Ernest had run into while fixing the truck.  This was one of them.  But instead of sporting a troll costume, the filly now possessed a pair of wings the size of massive dinner tables.  The wings looked very heavy and gangly as they spread out beside the pegasus.  Despite this, the little pony was smiling and reaching out to pet him.  But the beagle would have none it as he took off running away from the freakish filly.  

Rimshot looked behind him.  To his utter terror, the pony raised its gargantuan wings and beat them once.  In an instant the pony shot skyward out of sight, then suddenly was right on top of him, despite the dog’s considerable lead.	

“Gotcha!” the pony cried as she grabbed the beagle and took clumsily to the skies.

Meanwhile, a dazed and confused Ernest moaned in pain and confusion.  “Hey . . . who turned out the lights?” he asked no one in particular.

He was answered by the very irate inhabitant of the gopher hole, who began to attack his head with a vengeance.  

Ernest yelled again.  “WHAAAAAA!  Somebody get me out of here!  I’m sorry!  If I’d known your home was here, I’d of landed somewhere else!  Stop that!  It hurts!”  

The Troll Fighter flailed uselessly in the air.  Moments later, he felt a pair of very strong hooves wrap around his legs like a vice.  One solid pull was all it took to unstick the human.  After the deed was done, Ernest was dropped to the ground with a dull thud.  	

After prying the gopher off his face, Ernest wiped the dirt and grime away from his eyes. “Boy, am I glad to see you, Big Mac.  I think someone’s in that club house armed with a laser cannon or at least a Dr. Death emerald flame thrower.”

“Eyup, ” came the terse reply.

As Ernest climbed to his feet, he fixed his gaze on the tree fort.  “This isn’t going to be easy.  He’s got the high ground, and we can’t use the ramp.  He’ll be expecting that.”  A plan began to form in the garbage man’s mind.

“We’re going to have to dig a tunnel up to the tree, wait until it’s dark, and then throw a scarecrow laden with termites through that window,” Ernest said pointing.  “It’s the classic way to destroy a tree fort.   I think the Canadian’s used it against the Egyptians at the battle of Chickamauga.”  The Troll Fighter smiled.  “We got him right where we want him.”

“How do ya know it’s a he up there?”  

Ernest blinked and turned around to look at the pony.  What he saw made him scratch his head in confusion.  For some reason, Big Mac now had yellow fur and was wearing an obnoxiously large bow in his mane.  “Uh, I don’t know, I just thought . . . Big Mac, why are you yellow?”

“I ain’t my brother, ya stupid moron,” replied the irate pony in a deep masculine tone.

Ernest’s eyes grew big as dinner plates.  “Wow, Apple Jack.  I didn’t recognize you without your hat on.  You sure look different.”	

The pony’s nostrils flared angrily.

From the tree house a familiar voice called down to Ernest.  “Oh, for the love of Cadence, that’s Apple Bloom, not Applejack.”  

Looking back up at the tree house, Ernest saw a tiny pony with an enormously long horn walking very carefully down the ramp.  The horn stretched out before her so far that she was obviously struggling to keep her balance. 

Ernest’s mouth dropped when he saw her.  All of a sudden the huge mare in front of him and the tiny unicorn looked very familiar. “Sweetie Belle?” Ernest asked tentatively.

With all the patience she could muster, the unicorn nodded.

From above the group another voice yelled, “Look out below!”

Ernest had just enough time to turn and see the tiny pegasus with enormous wings fill his vision.  Ernest was about ready to scream, but it was too late.  The little pony collided with the human, smashing him to the ground.  

Moaning in pain, Ernest heard the newcomer say, “Hey, thanks for breaking my fall, Ernest.  And for this set of killer wings.”

Rimshot squirmed out of Scootaloo’s hooves and climbed onto his master’s chest. He inspected his owner for any major damage.  As usual, Ernest was unharmed.

Ernest groaned in agony.  “Killer wings is right. . . Those things nearly did me in.”

Scootaloo’s cheeks turned scarlet beneath her fur as she helped the groggy human to his feet.

Ernest shook his head to stop the world from spinning and studied the three mutated ponies.  “I think I liked you three better in your troll costumes.”

“Buck you!” yelled Sweetie Belle.  Her enormously long horn was pulsating with magic.  “You’re the reason we look like this.”

The garbage man cringed and took a step back.  

Apple Bloom moved to place herself between her unicorn friend and the human.  To the huge earth pony, it looked like her fellow crusader wanted to either impale Ernest with her spear-horn or blast him to a million pieces.

“Sweetie Belle, I don’t think this is his fault.  We shouldn’t have been messing with his things,” Apple Bloom said calmly.

“How can you take his side?” Sweetie Belle asked as she pointed her long horn away from her friend.  “I bet the pedofile left those three bottles there for us to drink.  Don’t you think it’s weird that he had a bottle of magic potion for each kind of pony?”

“Wait a second,” Ernest said.  “I don’t have any magic potions.  I promised my health class teacher I wouldn’t touch the stuff.  He said it would be bad for me in the long run.”

Rimshot pawed at Ernest’s leg and yipped up at his master.

“What do you mean they’re not talking about steroids?  What else could it be?  I’m telling you this is a classic case of over juicing.”

Scootaloo stretched her bulbous wings to the sky but fell over to the side in the process. “Your dog’s right.  I got these sweet wings from drinking that pegasus potion you had in your bag.”

“And I became a Clydesdale when I drank the earth pony potion,” declared Apple Bloom.

Sweetie Belle just glared at Ernest, too mad to speak.

Ernest just stared blankly at the three, still trying to piece together how he was responsible for this.

Rimshot too was having a hard time seeing how his master could . . . The dog’s ears stood on end as he remembered what they had done the night before.  Rimshot quickly turned to his owner and barked up to his master.

“Sports drinks, what sports . . . oh.”  Ernest now recalled when he and Rimshot had entered Zacora’s hut and had taken three vials from a cavity in a wall, hidden by a mask.

“Eh-heh-heh-heh.  I’m glad I didn’t try those.”  Rubbing the back of his neck, Ernest asked, “Have you three ever heard of a witch named Zecora?”

The three ponies gaped at the human.

“You stole those potions from Zecora, didn’t you?” the unicorn bellowed.

“I didn’t steal them, I paid for them,” Ernest replied quickly.

“Where’s your receipt then?”  asked Scootaloo.

“Right here,” Ernest replied as he dug into his jeans pockets with his hands.  Not finding anything, he started to pat himself down.  Starting o become nervous, he even looked underneath his brand new hat.  When he put his hat back on his head, it came to him.  He never got a receipt because Zecora was not there at the time when he paid for the sports drinks.  He had just left the money on a table.

When he shared this revelation with the Crusaders, they were not happy.  

Pointing a hoof at him, Sweetie Belle declared, “You and your pet are now prisoners of the Cutie Mark Crusaders until we get this sorted out.”

The human swallowed nervously, while Rimshot covered his eyes with his ears.

“What are you thinking, Sweetie?” the pegasus asked.

“I think we need to visit Zecora.”

“But how are all of us going to get past my family?  Plus it’ll be dark by the time we get there and back.   Everypony will be suspicious about where we’ve been.”

Sweetie Belle stared at the huge filly.   It was uncanny how much she sounded like her brother.  

“You two just keep an eye on Stupid and Rimshot.”

Ernest frowned indignantly.  “Hey, there’s no need for name calling.  We’re all friends here . . . right?”

Scootaloo looked at Ernest’s hat and back to Ernest.  “Have you taken a look at your hat recently?”

“No.  Why?”

“You might want to do that,” replied Scootaloo.  “It looks like Rarity left you a message on it.”

“A message?  What does it say?” Ernest asked excitedly as he took off his hat.

“Aw, why’d you have to tell him that, Scoots?  He could have gone for weeks without knowing,” declared Apple Bloom.

At that moment though, a cloud blocked the sunlight coming down on the group.

“What message?  Is it invisible?  I didn’t know you ponies could write in invisible ink.”

Apple Bloom frowned.  “Huh, weird, the message disappeared.”  Knowing they were getting off topic, the unicorn declared, “I’m going to teleport all of us to Zecora’s house.  She’ll fix us up and then we high tail it back to the club house.”

“Can you do that?” asked Apple Bloom.

“Um, I think so.”  

“I don’t know, guys.  I think I’d rather walk,” Ernest pleaded.  “You know what happens if you don’t exercise?  You look like my friend Chuck.  Not that I’m saying he’s fat . . . cause he is.  But the point is, I think we should stretch our legs a little.” 

“Apple Bloom, grab him,” Sweetie Belle commanded.

Ernest froze as the enormous mare placed a heavy hoof on his shoulder, rooting him to the ground.  Rimshot kept glancing over his shoulder for any sign of help from just about anyone.  There was none.

“Okay, here we go,” Sweetie Bell announced.

Moss colored magic surrounded the group, and moments later they were gone.
> Disneyland
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ernest closed his eyes and covered his face as he felt his body begin to teleport.  To the human it felt like someone had strapped his brain to a roller coaster but didn’t bother to send the rest of him along for the ride.  He was moving, and yet at the same time, he was standing still.  Throughout this ordeal, he felt Apple Bloom’s powerful hoof on his shoulder and Rimshot coiled around his leg.  

And then as violently as the crazy ride started, it stopped.  The Troll Fighter felt Apple Bloom let go of him at the same time his brain banged against his skull.  Dazed and confused, the human took several steps, trying to get his bearings.   He rubbed his eyes, “No, Vern.  I don’t wanna ride the Vomit Comet again.  Six times was enough,” he continued, stumbling around.  

While Sweetie Belle shook her head, Scootaloo stated, “We must be close to the Tree of Harmony and the Castle of the Two Sisters.  See, the rope bridge is over there,”  said the pegasus pointing.  

Ernest frowned. “So, what you’re really trying to say is . . . we’re in Disneyland?”  

The Crusaders did a simultaneous face-hoof.  

“Hey, where’s Rimshot?” asked Ernest.

“He’s wrapped around your leg,”  Apple Bloom replied.

The human looked down and saw that his pet was still clamped down on his leg tighter than a vice.  A terrified expression was plastered on the beagle’s face.  

“Rimshot, it’s okay.  You can let go now, buddy.  The trip is over.” Ernest tried to pry the dog off, but he was stuck fast. “I can’t feel my leg.”

Scootaloo waved her hoof in front of Rimshot’s face.  “Man, he’s out of it.”

“Stand back,” commanded the little unicorn. “I think I can snap him out of it.”

Ernest watched in fascinated terror as Sweetie Belle began to charge up her horn.  

“Hold on, Sweetie,”  Apple Bloom said. “We may need your magic to get home.  I’m sure Zecora can fix Rimshot when we find her.”

Ernest gave Apple Bloom a confused glance.  “He’s already been fixed.  All we just need to do is depetrify him.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Sweetie Belle.  “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Uh, sure,” Ernest said. “So how far away is Zecora’s?”

The Crusaders looked at each other, unsure.   

“I think it’s a mile west of here,” ventured Scootaloo. 

Ernest nodded. “Sounds good to me.  Let’s get moving.”

After a while of walking, Ernest came to the conclusion the Everfree Forest was just as scary as the first time he visited it.  It seemed like the trees had a mind of their own and were closing in on them.  To relieve the tension, he struck up a conversation with the fillies.  “So, uh, how’s your sister doing, Sweetie Belle?  I really like the hat she made for me.”

The little unicorn glared up at the human, which was an effort considering how much her mutated horn weighed.  “She’s fine.”

Ernest could not help but grin a little.  It had been a while since Sweetie Belle had called him a pedophile.  To the Troll Fighter, the two of them were becoming fast friends.

Ernest petted Rimshot absently.  That dog sure had a killer grip on his leg.  “So, Scootaloo, are you scared of Zecora?  Is she a mean witch?”

“What? No.  She’s real nice.  It’s just that . . . I don’t think I want to be cured.  I like my wings.”

Ernest looked at Scootaloo’s wings.  They were ugly and way too big for her.  “Uh, they look good.  But wouldn’t you like your old wings back?  Something you can control a little better, you know what I mean?”

The little pegasus became very downcast. “I can’t fly with my old wings.”

“Oh,” Ernest replied.

The garbage man wanted to say something profound to the little pegasus, but the words died in his throat as a high-pitched howl split the air.  

Ernest’s eyes whipped back and forth.  “Was that a cute little bunny?”  he asked hopefully.

“No,” Apple Bloom whispered shakily.  “That was a timberwolf.”

“What’s a timberwolf?”  

Hoof trembling, Sweetie Belle pointed.  Through the densely-packed trees came several dozen lupine figures.

The unicorn blasted the first timberwolf that strayed too close to the group.  It began to reform.  As the wolves grew closer, the earth pony lashed out with her hind legs.  Scootaloo used her immense wings to keep several of the wolves at bay.

Ernest looked all around them.  The group was nearly surrounded, and there was no room for Scootaloo to fly away to get help.  He dodged and weaved out of the way of snapping jaws and found himself back-to-back with the other Crusaders.  The human’s mind raced.  There had to be a way out of this without getting too many splinters.  Then it came to him.  

“Girls!” Ernest yelled.  The three fillies turned their attention to the human.  “Don’t ever do this to a pack of timber wolves!” 

Before the ponies could ask what he was talking about, Ernest cried out, “Abaddeeya, Abaddeeya, Abaddeeya, Abaddeeya, Abaddeeya!” 

The wooden lupines went berserk and ran straight for Ernest.  He figured they would.  After all, if badgers hated that sound, timberwolves were like badgers, right?

Ernest sprinted through a gap in-between the wolves and trees.  Glancing behind him, it looked like the entire pack was breathing down his neck.  But at least they were leaving the fillies alone. 

“WHHAAAAAAAAAAA!”  Ernest screamed as he ran blindly into the darkness.  He felt Rimshot tightening around him as his arms pumped up and down through the air.  The wolves were gaining on him, and could feel his numbed leg begin to falter.  Ernest tripped and careened down a steep hill, tumbling all the way.  He came to a stop, landing flat on his back at the bottom.  

Ernest spat out some leaves.  “Okay, Rimshot.  Next time I’ll hang on to you while we’re being chased by evil fire kindling.”

Ernest sat up and his heart plummeted.  He was in the epicenter of every timber wolf in the Everfree Forest.  “Eh-heh-heh-heh, did I say fire kindling?  I meant match dogs.  Tough, striking, match dogs.  It’s a compliment where I come from.  You know what I mean?”  he laughed nervously.

The wolves growled menacingly at him and drew closer.  Ernest closed his eyes and hugged Rimshot close to his chest as best he could.  He heard glass shatter right in front of him and a terrible smell whiffed into his nostrils.  The Troll Fighter’s eyes watered as his lips worked from side to side.

“Eh-heh-hewwwwwwwww!” 

The Timberwolves scattered, fleeting from the horrible concoction that had been thrown into their midst.

Ernest covered his nose and tried to stand.  His deadened appendage refused to support his weight.  To make matters worse, Ernest could see a cloaked figure walking toward him with a cloth mask wrapped around its face.

Panicking, the human looked for anything to throw or use against the approaching four-legged thing.  Seeing nothing useful, Ernest decided to play dead. The hoof-falls stopped mere feet away from him.

“I apologize for the smelly brew, but lucky for you, my aim was true.”  The words were feminine and had a pleasant sing-song ring.

Ernest cracked open an eye.  After seeing the scary cloaked figure, he quickly closed it again.	

“There is no need to play possum.  I think that your saving the fillies is awesome.”   

Ernest wondered why the mysterious figure talked so funny. He opened his eyes and sat up.  He Covering his nose, he declared,  “Dr. Seuss!  You’re talking in Dr. Seuss! Are you the witch, Zecora?”

Zecora drew back her hood so the human could see her face.  Her aqua-colored eyes narrowed.  “Yes, but now I have a question for you.  Are you the thief who stole my precious brew?”

Ernest frowned. “Hey, wait a minute.  I’m not a thief.  I paid for everything I took . . . I think; everything is kind of fuzzy when I think about it.”

Zecora nodded solemnly. “Your mind gets turned to jell-o, when you drink my Mellow Yellow.”

Before Ernest could reply, three ponies ran out of the trees.  Ignoring the powerful stench, the little ponies flung themselves at Ernest and enveloped him in a hug.

“We thought you were a goner!” Scootaloo cried.

“You’re the bravest pedoph— I mean, human I ever met.”  Sweetie Belle said happily.

“Ya did good, stupid.  Real good,”  Apple Bloom said slapping him on the back.

Ernest wondered if his spine would ever be the same again.

Zecora spoke up. “I hate to spoil this moment of bliss, but we must not linger in a place like this.”	

With Zecora leading the way, the group made it to the zebra’s hut as night fell.  It was slow going because of Ernest’s leg and Sweetie Belle’s horn.  They went inside and Apple Bloom helped Ernest onto a stool. Zecora took off her cloak and mask.  

Ernest’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re a zebra?  Wow, I’ve never saw one up close before.”

Zecora chuckled. “I have heard that phrase many a time.  Now let’s see about this pepper of mine.” 

Without another word Zecora opened a wooden cabinet and pulled out a pepper grinder.  The zebra walked up to Rimshot and turned the grinder just above the beagle’s nose.  The dog released his master and began to sneeze up a storm.  The brew mistress shook her head then turned to the fillies.

“Lucky for you three, I was prepared for such a catastrophe.”

Zecora made her way to the far side of her hut where her tribal masks hung.  Carefully, she lifted a mask off the wall.  Behind it were three plain vials nestled into the wall of the hut.  

She gave the vials to the ponies. “Drink this and it should return you to normal.  Perhaps now you will remember not to borrow from Ernest P. Worrell.”	

Both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom nodded thankfully and drank the potion.  Apple Bloom cheered as she returned to being a little filly.  Sweetie Belle rested her head on the table, grateful that the heavy weight of her horn was gone. Scootaloo stared at the unopened vial in her hooves.

“Sweet, Scootaloo, you know this is the right thing to do,” Zecora said quietly.

Scootaloo slammed down the vial.  “I don’t want to give up these wings!  I’m tired of not being able to fly!”

She buried her face in her hooves.  Ernest winced.  “Hey, it’s alright. I can’t fly either.”

Scootaloo glared at the human. “You’re not supposed to.  I am.”

“Well, aren’t there other things you’re good at?  Other things you like?” Ernest pressed.

The pegasus frowned. “Well, I like riding my scooter a lot.  But I guess. . .” She lifted one of the massive wings. “These won’t let me ride anymore.  I won’t be able to do any of my awesome tricks.”

She sighed heavily and drank the potion.  Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle nudged her and told her she was making the right choice.  Scootaloo was very quiet as her wings slowly shrank to their normal size.

Ernest felt badly for the pony but was snapped out of his melancholy by Zecora.  “Tell me, Mr. Worrell, how was taking my property moral?”

The human scratched the back of his neck as he began to retell the story of how he got here.  With Rimshot’s help, he told her about the trolls and how they followed a bear to her hut.  Ernest went on to explain about Rimshot needing to use the restroom and that Mellow Yellow was his favorite brand of soda pop where he came from.  When Ernest got to the part about how he had a dream involving talking masks, Zecora stopped him.  Her eyes were ablaze with surprise and curiosity as she asked,

“What did these spirits say?  I must know!  Now!  Today!”  

The fillies looked at each other in surprise.  They had never seen Zecora worked up like this before.

Ernest put both hands to his head as he wracked his brain for what the mask-spirits had said.  “Hello, oafish one, your quest has just started . . . I mean begun.  You are in the land of Equestria, ruled by Princess Celestia.  We are the guardians of mold, er, old, whose magic shapes and molds.  Fate has brought you here to take away the ponies’ fear.  Go forth and take what you must, leave now before all is dust.”

To the beagle and the crusaders this sounded very cheesy, but Zecora rubbed her chin in contemplation. “Are these the exact words the spirits spoke?  This is not a funny joke.”

The human nodded frantically. “I’m almost seventy-two percent sure that’s what they said.  I mean, I was asleep floating above my own body, wondering if those masks were going to eat me.  I think I did pretty good remembering what I did.”

The zebra looked at Ernest carefully for a long moment.  She finally said, “All is forgiven, let us say no more.  It is getting late; you all should be going out the door.”

The group made good time now that everybody was back to normal.  It was late at night when they reached the edge of the Everfree Forest, and Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Twilight were there searching for them.  As soon as the mares saw the group, they rushed over.

“Where in tarnation have you been?” Applejack cried. “We looked everywhere for ya!  Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and the rest of the family are still looking.  They’re practically tearing the whole town apart.”  

Rarity grabbed her sister and gave her a hug.  “Oh, Sweetie Belle, are you alright?  Did Ernest hurt you?  If he hurt you, I swear I’ll—”

“No!”  Sweetie Belle yelled.  “He saved us from a pack of timber wolves!”

“Timber wolves?” Rainbow Dash asked in disbelief.  “No way.” She studied the human with a new appreciation.

“It’s true,”  Scootaloo chimed in.  “You should have seen him.  He did this one super annoying wolf call and got all the timber wolves to chase him.  It was wicked!”

“Hold on,”  Twilight said, holding up a quieting hoof.  “What were all of you doing in the Everfree Forest in the first place?”

Apple Bloom gulped. “It’s a long story.”

“We have time.”  Twilight said with a hint of menace.  The other three mares nodded in agreement.

And so the story was told again in intricate detail from the perspectives of Ernest, Rimshot, and the Crusaders.  Rainbow Dash left during part of it to tell the others in Ponyville that everyone missing had been found.  She came back finding the end of the story as incomprehensible as the beginning.   

When the tale was over, Twilight declared, “This explains a lot.”  

Rarity looked at her sister and her friends accusingly. “You three should have known better than to take somepony else’s things.”  

Looking downcast, the three fillies nodded.  

Coming to their defense, Ernest said, “Well, me and Rimshot kind of did the same thing.”

The beagle barked in protest.

“Uh, I mean I did the same thing. . . but only because the spirit-masks said it was okay.  But I should have asked Zecora first.  I know I would hate it if someone came into my place and started taking my stuff without asking me.  Ya know what I mean?”

Applejack yawned widely. “Well, I for one am glad y’all are safe and sound.  Now let’s hit the hay.  We’ll talk about this some more in the mornin’.”

No one objected as the ponies went their separate ways.  

“Ready to come back to Golden Oaks, boys?” Twilight asked sleepily.

Rimshot yipped his approval, but Ernest was looking over at a sulking Scootaloo.  Rainbow Dash was trying to comfort her.

“Cheer up, squirt.  It’ll be alright,” she said nudging her with a hoof.

Scootaloo nodded but didn’t say a word.  

“How about I spend the day with you tomorrow, and we can work on upgrading your scooter.  Those plans you’re working on look pretty sweet.”

The little pegasus nodded but was obviously distracted.  The two started to make their way into Ponyville.  

“Wait a second,” Ernest called.

“It’s pretty late, buddy.  Can’t this wait?” asked Rainbow Dash yawning.

Ignoring the older pegasus, Ernest knelt down to Scootaloo and said, “I want to give you something.  It’s not much, but I know you had a really rough day, and I want to try and make it better.”

As Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Rimshot looked on, Ernest took a folded, beat up piece of paper out of his denim vest pocket and gave it to Scootaloo.

“What’s this?” she asked.  She couldn’t read the words with so little light.

“It sounds like you got a pretty good head on your shoulders for making and fixing things.  I should know, being a fellow tinker-er.  So, I want to give you the title to my truck and everything in it.  The old girl is pretty rough around the edges right now, if you know what I mean.  But I think the truck will get you a little more speed than the scooter will.”

Scootaloo’s eyes grew huge with wonder.  “You’re giving me your truck? You mean, I can have it?  That thing sitting behind Apple Bloom’s house, I can have that?”

Ernest nodded sheepishly. “I know it’s not a new set of wings, and I know it’s not much.  But she’s a great old girl, and she’s yours if you want her.”

The next thing the human knew, he was being tackled by an ecstatic pegasus doing her best to hug him to death.  “Of course I want it! I mean, her!  Thank you!  Thank you, Ernest.  This means the world to me.  I’ll make her the fastest truck ever!  Just you wait.”
> Abrakaflurry Take Me to Missouri
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ugh!  Where is he?”  Twilight asked nopony in particular.  The alicorn stared at a nearby clock, willing it to slow down.  Sweat began to trickle down her mane, and it wasn’t because of the warm sunlight.  “The train to the Crystal Empire will be here any minute.”

“Simmer down, Twi. I’m sure he and the Crusaders will be here soon,”  Applejack said confidently.

“Um, you said that an hour ago,”  Fluttershy pointed out in her quiet voice.

“I know it, and I’m just as sure now as I was then.  He’ll make it,” Applejack said.

Rarity cleared her throat.  “Maybe one of us should go to Sweet Apple Acres to check on them.”  She looked up at the sky-blue pegasus and batted her eyelashes.  “Rainbow, could you be a dear?

“Why me?” Rainbow asked. “Aren’t Big Mac and Pinkie Pie supposed to be keeping an eye on him?”

“Hush up you two.  Y’all hear that?”	  

The ponies’ ears perked up as something loud and musical sped towards them.  Even Spike woke up from his nap as the noise got louder and louder.  Rainbow bobbed her head up and down to the beat.  As the object approached, they could make out lyrics.

Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you.

Ernest’s truck careened around the corner except it didn’t look quite like Ernest’s truck.  Someone had painted orange and violet flames along the hood and sides.  Huge rockets were strapped to the back.  Strange metal contraptions jutted out from the vehicle at odd angles.  All the while Scootaloo was behind the wheel laughing with sheer unbridled joy.  Beside her, Applebloom and Sweetie Belle were having a blast themselves.  Ernest clung to his seat in the cab, white-faced and horrified.  The ponies outside dove for cover as Scootaloo drove over the train station’s handicap ramp.  

“Woo-hooooo!”  she cried as the truck went spiraling through the air.  Everyone gaped in terror as the truck sailed across the tracks.  Somehow she managed to get the beast to come to a clean stop on the other side.

Never gonna give, Never gonna give, Give you  . . .

The music died as Scootaloo killed the truck and flashed a cocky grin at the girls.  

Faster than lighting, Rainbow Dash flew over and landed on the hood of the truck.  “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Scoot’s grin got even wider.  “Thanks.  I’ve always wanted to try that, except I could never get enough speed on my scooter.”

The other two crusaders spilled out of the truck running on an adrenaline high.  

“I’ve never gone that fast in my life!”  Sweetie Belle gushed.

“Yeah, I think this thing can leave you in the dirt, Rainbow Dash,”  Apple Bloom chimed in.

The cyan pegasus scoffed.

“What were you thinking, Scootaloo? You could have gotten somepony hurt,” the Princess scolded.

The young pegasas put up her hooves defensively.  “Relax, Twilight.  I had everything under control. Besides Ernest was watching my every move.  He wouldn’t let me crash.”

At the mention of the human’s name, the door opened and a sick, groaning man slid out.  	

“Ernest, are you alright?”  Fluttershy asked worriedly as she and Spike helped him to his feet.

“Yeah, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,”  Spike chimed in.

The Troll Fighter’s skin around his face was swept back, and his hair had turned cotton white.  “Oh, I’m fine. I just got a little rocket-truck lag.  I think Scoots broke a few G-Whiz barriers back there.  I should know.  I’m a certified Flume Zoom expert from my Splash Mountain days,” Ernest shook his head. “Splash Mountain has nothing on this truck.”

Ernest dusted himself off. “Did we beat Pinkie Pie here?”  

The ponies didn’t answer Ernest right away.  Instead, they were staring at the human’s hat with the ornate purple lettering.  Twilight turned to Rarity and gave her a disapproving look.  

The fashonista withered under the glare. “I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it.  Just don’t tell him.”

“Tell me what?” 

Applejack covered for her friend. “Hey, uh, where’s Pinkie?  Why didn’t she come with y’all?”

“Rimshot wanted to ride in her hot air balloon.  I don’t know why he wanted to miss out on all the eye-dropping, jaw popping, heart hemorrhaging fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun.” Ernest took a step forward and nearly collapsed.  

Rainbow Dash caught him just in time.  “Hey, why did Rarity sew—”   

“Ernest, buddy,”  Spike said interrupting her.  “Your hat has a tear in it.  Why don’t you give it to Rarity?  She knows a neat spell that’ll fix it right up.” 

The Troll Fighter thought about this. “Naw, this hat is special.  I wanna keep it the way it is.  When I get back to the States, I’m gonna buy me a glass box and a pedestal.  I’m going to put this baby in that box and look at it every day.  And each time I do, I’ll think about you guys and the good times we’ve had together.”

Ernest felt three pairs of tiny hooves clamp down on his legs.  He looked down at the sad faces of the Crusaders.  

“We’ll miss you, Ernest,”  Apple Bloom mumbled.

“Yeah, I know we didn’t start off on the right hoof, but. . . you’re alright,”  Sweetie Belle said.

Too overcome with emotion to speak, Scootaloo buried her face in the human’s leg.

The Troll Fighter ruffled the manes of the Crusaders.  “I’ll miss you too.” 

“Why, Celestia?  Why does he have to leave?”  Pinkie Pie sobbed loudly.

“Because he has to go home, Pinkie.  He doesn’t belong here,”  Twilight answered unhappily.  The alicorn did a double take.  “Pinkie?! When did you get here?”

“Oh, Rimshot and I have been here a while waiting on you guys.  We got bored so we visited the Sofa and Quills store, and Rimshot helped me pick out a Trottingham loafer.  I picked the one he kept chewing and peeing on.   He seemed to like that one best, but for some reason the store clerk wouldn’t give me a discount on a damaged product.  The nerve of some ponies.”

Rimshot barked in agreement.  Then a tell-tale whistle pierced the air.  As the train approached, they said their goodbyes to the Crusaders.

“It’s too bad those three couldn’t come with us,” Ernest said as they made their way through the train car.  “But school is important.  It is the block building in which young minds are molded, tailored, sculpted, forged, and baked in a crucible of hard knocks and harder books.  Yes, sir, school cannot be overly overstated.  Ya know what I mean, Miss Rarity?”

The train started with a jerk, and Ernest fell into the vacant seat in front of her.

Rarity suppressed a sigh. “Uh, of course, darling.  Now are you sure you don’t want me to repair your hat?  That tear bothers me.”

Ernest glanced over at Applejack, and his eyes got huge.  “Oh, my gosh, what’s that?”  The Troll Fighter shouted, pointing at Applejack’s head.  All eyes turned to the farm pony.

The earth pony took off her Stetson and examined it.  “There’s nothing there.”

“I know.  Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh.” 

The ponies saw Ernest’s cap was missing.  “I know what you ponies are up to,”  the human said smugly.  “You all want to start a game of keep away with old Ernest P. Worrell by taking his head gear.  Well, old Ernest has ridden that train before.  Rimshot, go long!”

And with that, Ernest threw his cap across the passenger car.  The beagle was wide open, but Ernest’s cap was intercepted by Twilight’s magic.  

The alicorn frowned. “Ernest, we’re not playing a game while the train is --- hey!”  

Rainbow Dash laughed as she snatched the cap out of Twilight’s aura.  “Think fast, Fluttershy.”    

“What?”  the yellow pegasus asked as the hat flew by her face.  

Spike picked up the cap. “I got it, Rarity!” 

His victory was short-lived as Rimshot ran by and grabbed the hat with his teeth.  

Ernest laughed and clapped his hands. “Good going, Rimshot.”

The beagle stopped running down the aisle when Pinkie Pie dangled a pastry in front of his nose.

“Hey, Rimshot. I’ll trade you this fried fish flavored cupcake for that hat.”

Ernest’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Oh, no, that’s his favorite kind of cake.  Don’t do it, boy.  I’ll sleep in the dog house tonight.  You can have the bed.  We’ll watch ‘Underdog’ everyday of the week.  Just don’t be that dog.”  

Rimshot turned his head just enough to see his owner’s reaction as he dropped the prize into Pinkie’s hooves.

Ernest turned to Rainbow Dash in disgust.  “I guess when you’re hungry, loyalty goes out the window.”

The pegasus nodded. “It doesn’t help.”

The rest of the train ride passed without much incident.  The group received a harsh reprimand from the ticket pony about playing games in the aisle.  Ernest lamented the betrayal from his best friend while Rarity sewed furiously on his hat.  The whole car began to stink after an hour reeking of the absurd fish cupcakes Pinkie continued to feed Rimshot.

Twilight threw open a window, gasping for air.  She waved to the human from across the car. “Ernest, take a look at this.”

Obeying, the Troll Fighter walked over to where Twilight was sitting.  The ponies made way for the human so that he could look out her window.    Off in the distance, Ernest saw a huge mountain with a city built into it.  For several long moments the human marveled at the towering spires and the beautiful architecture of the metropolis.  

“Is that Camelot, your majesty?”

“Yes.  And for the hundredth time, it’s called Canterlot.”

“Is that where we’re goin?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, Ernest.  But we’re going to the Crystal Empire,”  Fluttershy chimed in.

“That’s okay,” Ernest replied a little disappointed.  “I just wanted to try out my Camelot voice and impress some of the local Camelotians.”  

“What the hay is a Camelot voice?”  asked Applejack.

The human replied in his Scottish accent.  “Well, lassie, it sounds a wee bit like this.  My clan dates back to the time Camelot reigned and snowed over the land for eons.  Aye, and I can hear the harps of Camelot from here, calling me back to a bygone age of heroes, hags, and hellions.  They call me back to the times before my people left the Isle of Vern on the great fire bird, Pontiac.  ‘Twas a sad time, that was.”  

Pinkie painted half of her face blue and began to play a sad yet proud Celtic tune on a harp.  Ernest continued to tell his tale until the train pulled into the Crystal Empire’s station. 

“And that was before my great, great, great, great, great uncle, Grand Theologian Ferbious Worrell, filler of swear jars, vanquished the dread haggis at Moat Moshpit.” 

As soon as the door to their car opened, every pony, save Pinkie, hurried out as fast as they could. 

Ernest blinked. “They must need some fresh air.  Wait, are we here already?  Wow, that went by fast.”

Pinkie jumped up and put the human’s cap back on his head.  “Come on, Ernest.  If you thought the train ride was fun, you’ve ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Ernest and Pinkie rejoined the group and took in the majesty of the Crystal Empire.  “Golly, Bob Howdy, where in the world are we now?”  Ernest asked.

“The Crystal Empire,” Rainbow said.  “The most awesome place in Equestria if you don’t count Cloudsdale or Ponyville.”

Nodding, Ernest replied in his western voice. “That may be true, little lady, but as good as this place may be, I doubt it’ll hold a candle to home in my eye.”

Applejack smiled at that.  “Couldn’t agree more, partner.  Now come on, let’s get you home.”

As they made their way deeper into the Empire, Spike whispered to Rarity. “What happened to the message on his hat?  It’s not showing up in the sunlight.”

“I did manage to fix it, Spike.  Although, I had to remove that beautiful silken spell thread to it.  What a waste.”

She sighed dramatically as Spike rolled his eyes.

The group headed straight for the center of the city while the crystal ponies stopped to stare at the strange new biped in their midst.  None of them gawked for long, and they soon returned to their business.  Before long, Ernest and his escort made it to the royal castle.  A welcoming committee stood at the entrance: an entourage of crystal pony guards and the rulers themselves.   Prince Shining Armor and Princess Cadence stood majestically in front of their guests.  Overcome with joy, Twilight galloped to her brother and gave him a big hug.  

“Twiley,” he embraced her. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, B.B.B.F.F.”

Twilight turned to her sister-in-law and they performed their traditional greeting. “Sunshine, sunshine ladybugs awake, clap your hooves and do a little shake.”

Ernest watched the Princesses carry out this strange ritual.  He whispered to Fluttershy, “Who are they?”

“That’s Twilight’s big brother, Prince Shining Armor, and that’s his true love, Princes Mi Amore Cadenza.”

Ernest blinked. “Is she French?”

“Um, I don’t think so.  What’s a French?”

Rimshot barked up at his master.  

“Oh, that makes more sense,” Ernest mused.

Fluttershy looked even more confused.  “I don’t think she’s that either.”

The rest of the ponies and Spike greeted the rulers of the Crystal Empire warmly. Twilight then turned to Ernest.  “Princess Cadence, Prince Shining Armor, may I present Ernest P. Worrell of Missouri and his pet, Rimshot.”

The pink alicorn smiled and nodded in greeting.  “It is nice to finally meet you, Ernest.”

Not knowing how to reply to this obviously important pony, Ernest sat down on the ground and started his own greeting ritual.  “Blacksmith, Blacksmith, near the gorge, make me a horseshoe with your forge.   Stretch it, beat it, form it in a U.  And leave it on fence post as a clue.” He patted his belly and shook his head a few times for good measure.  	

Nopony said a word when Ernest finished his impromptu greeting.

“Oh, uh, sorry, your highness.  It’s the best hello I could come up with on the spot.  You know what I mean?”

The awkward silence stretched on for a few seconds before it dawned on Cadence.  “Oh!  Do that one more time.”

The human obeyed and repeated the rhyme and hand gestures.   This time Cadence joined in, slapping her hooves against Ernest’s open palms.

Laughing, the older alicorn got to her hooves and declared, “Twilight, you were not exaggerating about this one.”

“I tried to warn you,” Twilight grimaced, visibly nervous.

Shining Armor extended his hoof to Ernest.  “Just a hoof shake will do.”

As they were shaking hands/hooves, Shining Armor asked, “Is it true you single-handedly beat a Minotaur at hoof-wrestling?”

“No, your highness, I had help.  Fluttershy hypnotized him.”

The Prince nodded.  “I know.  Twilight told us in her message.  I just wanted to hear it from you.”  He smiled.  “I’m glad you were earnest.”

The human blushed.  “Well, Fluttershy’s mind control powers combined with my charisma, reputation, and cutting-edge physical prowess, that poor bovine didn’t stand a chance.”   

The ponies guffawed as the prince fought to keep from laughing in the human’s face.

“Not exaggerating at all,” Shining murmured to Twilight. 

Eventually they made their way through the royal tower and into a well-lit chamber with a beautiful mirror at its center.

Ernest raised an eyebrow at his new friends.  “Is that the way home?”  

Everypony nodded.

“Uh, do I walk up to it and say . . . Abrakaflurry, take me to Missouri?  Or wait, I need to be more specific.  Hocus pocus, take me to Briarville.”

“Eh, if it makes you feel better” Rainbow Dash said nonchalantly.  

“Ernest, this portal takes you to a place called Canterlot High School,” Cadence explained.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know how close that is to your home.”

The human waved off the apology.  “If it’s the right hemisphere, it’s good enough.”

“But what if it’s the left one?” asked Pinkie. 

“Then I’d better learn the metric system.”  

Twilight cleared her throat.  “Also Ernest, there’s one more thing you sh—.”  She was cut off by the Troll Fighter hugging her.

“I hope you don’t chop off my head for this, your majesty, but I just want you to know, you’re okay in my book.  And if I ever decided to write one, you’d definitely be in it.”

The alicorn fought back tears as she hugged the goofball back, deciding what she wanted to tell him wasn’t that important anyway.  The rest of the ponies, Spike, and Rimshot joined in the hug, each saying goodbye in their own way.

“Are you ready to go, boy?”  Ernest asked his dog.

The beagle barked an affirmative and walked through the mirror.

Turning one last time to his pony friends, Ernest tipped his hat.  “So long, partners.  I’ll send y’all a cake.”
> Down the Leprechaun's Toilet
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset Shimmer sighed as she looked longingly at the school statue.  Ever since she’d tried and failed to take over Canterlot High, things had been rough.  She could only blame herself.  No one forced her to put on Twilight’s crown and turn her fellow students into mind-controlled zombies.  The only reason why she stayed was for her five new friends.  Well, “friends” was a strong word.  Even Pinkie Pie kept her at arm’s length, and she liked everyone.  Sunset knew they were trying to help, but open wounds like the one she caused mere weeks ago still festered.  “What would you do Twilight?” she asked the open air.

There was an hour left before class started, and she still had a lot of brick laying to do.  The gaping hole she had blasted into the face of the school was not going to fix itself.  A flash of light caught her eye.  She turned to see the portal in the statue opening.  Sunset’s breath caught in her throat as the magical doorway burst into existence and deposited a tall, lanky human and a small dog onto the pavement.

Ernest groaned and rubbed his eyes.  “Rimshot, I think they flushed us down a leprechaun’s toilet.  Did you see all those swirling colors?”  

The beagle simply scratched at his ears.

Ernest shrugged.  “Well, I guess after being a wooden dog for a while, nothing phases you anymore.”

“Are you alright?”

The redneck saw a teenage girl looking down at him.  “Yes, ma’am.  I’m right as rain without the cloud.  Ya know what I mean?”

The girl gave Ernest an odd look. “Uh, I guess.”  

The strange man stood. “Well, thanks for the help, but I gotta catch a bus back to Briarville.  Home sweet home.  Land of mules, bluebirds, but no trolls.  No need to thank me, cause you are welcome.  Come on, Rimshot.”	 

Rimshot barked happily as he padded beside his master.	

Sunset looked at the departing figures and shrugged.  She was tired of dealing with other people and ponies.  Who cares if he came from Equestria?  Not her problem.  She was about to go back to her punishment when something Twilight had said stuck in her memory.  

“The magic of friendship doesn’t just exist in Equestria.  It’s everywhere.  You can seek it out, or you can forever be alone.”

With these words fresh in her mind, Sunset turned and called after the stranger, “Wait!”

Ernest stopped, surprised that she wanted to talk to him.  

“I forgot to introduce myself.  My name is Sunset Shimmer.”  

“Nice to meet ya,” Ernest said, shaking hands.  “My name is Ernest.  Ernest P. Worrell.”

“So, what brings you to Canterlot High?  Did Celestia or Twilight Sparkle send you?”

Ernest’s eyes widened.  “How’d you know?  Are you a friend of Princess Twilight?”

Sunset’s face darkened. “I don’t know,” she said slowly.

Rimshot yipped at his master.  

“Oh, sorry boy,” Ernest said.  “This is Rimshot.  Me and him have been through a lot together.  Dumpster diving, troll fighting. . .  if you name it, he’s probably sniffed it and ate it.” 

The teenager smiled and petted the dog’s head.  

Ernest’s eyes darted around.  “Uh, Sunset, where exactly is Canterlot High?  It sounds Canadian or Scottish.  If “high” is in the name of a town, we have to be way up North.”

Sunset Shimmer couldn’t help but laugh at Ernest’s logic.  “Let’s go to the school.  There are several maps you can look at in the library.  You said that Briarville was your home?”

“Yes, ma’am”

“And Briarville is over here on this side of the portal?”

“Yep.”

“But aren’t you an Equine?”

“No, ma’am.  Southern Baptist.”  

Sunset shook her head, “No, I mean aren’t you from Equestria?  Like me?  Are you a unicorn, pegasus, or an earth pony?”

Ernest frowned. “No, I’ve always been what I’ve looked like, two arms, two legs, one hat.”  

This time Sunset frowned, but didn’t press him further.  When they were back on school grounds, Ernest whistled as he looked at the enormous crater and the gaping hole in the front of the school.

“Wow, you guys have a massive gopher problem.  What do you think, Rimshot, ten or eleven?”

Rimshot pawed the ground.

“Naw, if there were fifteen gophers, it’d be three feet deeper.”

“Actually, I caused that,” Sunset said slowly.

Ernest stared at Sunset in disbelief. “You let a gang of those goofy grounded gremlins out in the same place?”  The redneck shook his head. “What are they teaching at this school?” 

“No, it wasn’t gophers.  I . . . forget about it.  The library is down the hall and to your right.  You can’t miss it.  I think Miss Cheerilee is here so you can ask her for help.”  And with that, Sunset got back to work smoothing out the mortar for the next layer of bricks.

Ernest started down the hallway.  He took a few steps before turning around.  He scratched his chin for a few moments before picking Rimshot up and whispering.  “Hey boy, do you think you can snag me one of those maps from the library without getting caught?”

The beagle gave a hesitant bark.

“How much will it cost me?  If I’m not mistaken, this is for your benefit, too.”

Rimshot yipped twice before sticking out his tongue and panting.  

Ernest eyed his dog for a moment before saying, “Okay, fine.  But I want a map that can get me out of the Bermuda Triangle or at least a Chucky Cheese ball pit.”

Rimshot nodded and hopped down.

Ernest turned his attention back to Sunset Shimmer.  “Not that you’re doing a bad job, but shouldn’t the resident custodian be doing that?”

“He quit,” The teenager replied tersely.  “Why aren’t you at the library?”

“Oh, I got Rimshot taking care of that.  He knows what he’s looking for.  Would you like some help with that?  A gentleman of my upbringing cannot stand by and let a lady do a man’s job.”  

Sunset was caught off guard by Ernest’s chauvinistic offer to help.  But in spite of that, no one had stepped forward to assist her.  Not since Snips and Snails had quit after complaining of back aches and blisters.  “I appreciate the offer, Ernest, but I made this mess, too.  I don’t think the principal would be happy if she found out someone else was helping me.”

Ernest smiled. “Then you’re in luck, because I’m not just a someone.  I am Ernest P. Worrell, Baron of Bricks, Master of Mortar, and Tyrant of Trowels at your service.”

The reformed delinquent shook her head and grinned. “Well, I can’t pass up help like that.  Hand me some more bricks.”

The minutes flew by as the strange pair worked and talked until it was almost time for the busses to arrive. 

“So you followed a troll to Equestria, got knocked out by a tree, woke up in a hospital, met Twilight Sparkle, armed wrestled a minotaur, got lost in the Everfree Forest again, gave away your truck, took a train to the Crystal Empire, and now you’re rebuilding a wall with one of Celestia’s greatest disappointments.  Sounds like you’ve had an interesting last few days.”

Ernest nodded.  “Yep, a typical week in the life of yours truly.  But you got one thing wrong, Sunny.  I am building a wall with a bright young lady who knows that she had done wrong.  You should be proud.  I mean, you’re like Shredder telling the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles that you’re sorry and that you want to be a ninja turtle, too.  Ya know what I mean?”  

“Not at all, but I think I understand what you’re trying to say, and I really appreciate it.  Outside of Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, and Fluttershy, you’re the only person who’s talked to me like I’m not an evil she demon.” 

“Hey, even evil she demons have feelings.”

Sunset Shimmer laughed.  She was about to reply when someone cleared their throat behind her.  

She smiled nervously.  “Oh, vice-principal Luna, what can I do for you?”

Luna gave Sunset a disapproving look.  “Were the principal and I not clear that you were supposed to do this work on your own?”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts, Shimmer.  I should—”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Ernest piped up.

Luna turned her attention to the odd man in a denim vest.

“My name is Ernest P. Worrell, and I heard y’all were out a janitor?  Is that right?”

“Yes, unfortunately it is,” the vice principle said, fighting to keep the disgust out of her voice.  

“That’s what I thought.  Well, have no fear little lady, because your salvation is here.”  The redneck produced a well-folded wad of papers from his back jeans pocket.  “Here is the résumé of a man who has seen it all and done it all.”

Sighing, Luna took the yellowed papers from Ernest and began to skim over them.  

Sunset mouthed to Ernest, “What are you doing?”

The troll fighter winked in reply.

Moments later, the vice principle admitted, “This résumé is impressive, but I don’t see on here where you went to college.   Not even what high school you graduated from.  Why is this information absent, Mr. Worrell?”

Ernest’s confidence evaporated like cold water on a hot stove.  The redneck gulped, “Well, that’s because, I, uh, never finished high school.” 

Luna rubbed her eyes in exasperation.  “That is a problem, Mr. Worrell.”

“Please, call me Ernest.”

“Fine, Ernest.  I won’t beat around the bush.  We desperately need more janitors.  But you need at least a high school degree to apply for the position.  So I have a proposition for you.  The school will hire you on temporarily until someone more qualified can be found.  Your wages will be lower than the full-time staff members.  We’ll sort out the rest of the details in an hour after my meeting with principal Celestia.  Are these terms suitable?”

The troll fighter thought about this arrangement for a moment before sticking out his hand.  “Put ‘er there, partner.”

Luna rolled her eyes and shook Ernest’s hand.  “For your first assignment, I want you to stop by the library and talk to Ms. Cheerilee.  It seems she’s caught a beagle trying to make off with a large globe.  Probably one of Fluttershy's escapees from the animal shelter.” 

Sunset and Ernest exchanged glances before Luna pointed at the teenager.  “And you, get yourself cleaned up and report to class.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With that, vice-principal Luna turned and disappeared down the dimly lit hallway.  

“Just wondering, Sunny, was it you who messed up the lights in this place?”

“No, they’ve been like that for a while,”   Sunset Shimmer shrugged.  “Thanks for bailing me out, but why do you want a job here?  I thought you were trying to get back to Briarville.”

“I am, but something occurred to me a little while ago.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m kind of broke.  And I don’t think the bus fare will be free.”  

“I’m afraid not.  Come on.  Let’s see if we can rescue Rimshot.”

The two made their way to the library.  They found the librarian watching a beagle study a large map hanging on a wall.

“Howdy, ma’am.  I heard that you have a canine issue in the area?”

Cheerilee tore her eyes off the dog. “Uh, yes.  I have no idea where that dog came from. He keeps trying to leave with geography equipment.  Books, maps, globes, stuff like that.   I’ve never seen anything like it.  Every time I take my eyes off him, he tries to take something.”   

Ernest nodded.  “Hmmm, fascinating.  This sounds like a classic case of cart fever.”

“Cart fever?” the librarian asked.

“Short for cartography fever.  A dog of his breed catches a virus that makes him absolutely enamored with anything that has to do with map making.  It’ll pass, but I feel sorry for his owner.  They’ll have to put up with the howls of frustration from the beagle because he can’t hold a compass or use a pencil.”  

The librarian gave Ernest a curious look.  “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“He’s the new temporary janitor,” declared Sunset.  “I’m showing him around the school before classes start.”

“Oh, vice-principal Luna said that help was coming.”  The librarian leaned over to Ernest and whispered, “Keep an eye on Shimmer.  She’s a handful.”

Cheerilee straightened. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

When the librarian was out of sight, Ernest crouched down in front of Rimshot.  “What happened?  I didn’t want you to take the whole library.  What do you have to say for yourself?”

Rimshot barked loudly and pointed at the map hanging on the wall.

Ernest followed the dog’s outstretched paw and stared at the map in disbelief.  “Are they all like this one boy?  Even the globes and books?”

Rimshot nodded.

“What?  What’s wrong?” Sunest Shimmer asked.	

“This world map is just like the maps we were looking at in Twilight’s library.”

“Uh, what does that mean?”  

“It means that Rimshot and I are still not where we’re supposed to be.   But we’re not in England or Camelot anymore either.” 

Sunset took a step back.  “So what you’re saying is you’re from another world?”

Ernest nodded.  “Well, Sunny, I gotta find a place to hide Rimshot for the day and then get to work.  A deal’s a deal despite the fact I’m more lost than a misplaced ‘Where’s Waldo’ book.  I got a job to do now.”

“I have an idea,” the teenager said.  “Let me take care of Rimshot.  Fluttershy will know the best place to hide pets from the faculty.”

The troll fighter hesitated, but in the end he handed the beagle over to Sunny.  “Take care of him.  He’s all I got.”

Sunset Shimmer nodded.  “Meet me and the rest of the girls after school today, and we’ll talk about what to do next.”

“Okay.  Thanks, buddy.  I appreciate it.”

“Hey, it’s what friends are for.”  

> Bobbing for Opossums
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, Rabuf, tell me what the plan is.”

“Never pet a burning dog.  Never pee near a gopher hole.  And never ever crap where you eat.”

Rotnart massaged his throbbing temples.  “Why don’t you take another look at your notes.”

“Good idea, boss.”  After skimming over a piece of used toilet paper, Rotnart began again.  “We’re gonna grab five opossums, turn them into doll opossums, and we’ll become super trolls once we put them in the lucky, special tree-thingy.”

“That’s right, brother.  And remember, all we need is five, but grab a few more if you can, just in case.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Can I go now?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Before Rabuf could take his club and bash himself in the head, the other troll stopped him.  “I mean go into town, you bag of hammers.”

Rabuf blinked.  “I knew that.”  And with that, Rabuf put on his “stealth suit” and began heading towards the Ponyville Nightmare Night Celebration.

The older troll watched his brother make his way from the forest’s edge and into the outskirts of town.   An irritatingly familiar voice invaded his thoughts.  “Why are you including him on this mission?  He can’t tell a pony from a mushroom.”

“True, but he’ll provide one hell of a distraction.  While he’s doing . . . whatever he’s gonna do, I’ll grab the five.”

“If you can, steal five unicorn foals.  They will serve you the best.”

“Hey, you keep your trap shut unless I need you.  You give me intel on these horses, and I’ll set you free from your prison once I have the power.”  

Rotnart could hear the feminine voice laughing in his ear even though she was far away.  “Yes, and don’t even think about crossing me.  If you do, I will end you in the most gruesome way imaginable.”

The troll could not stop a shiver from going down his spine.  But in spite of that, he managed a weak chuckle.  “I doubt that.  But I’m a troll of my word, and you will be free before this night is over.”


*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


Rabuf’s big eyes darted from point to point as he peered through the eyeholes of his “stealth suit.”  As the troll was making his way into the center of town, the other opossums were looking right at him.  But the joke was on them.  As far as they knew, they were just looking at a cardboard box.  There was nothing unusual about a box that grew legs and moved every now and then.  “Heh, and I thought this was going to be hard,” the troll giggled to himself.

“Silver Spoon, would you look at this pathetic pony?”

The troll’s heart stopped beating as someone punched the box.

“This poor dummy couldn’t even afford one of those cheap hoof-made costumes those apple bumpkins are so proud of.”

A different pony laughed.  “You’re right, Diamond Tiara.  I bet a real ugly pony is under there.  He’s so ashamed of himself that he can’t show his face.”

There was a shove on the side of the box so hard that it nearly pitched the troll onto his side.  

“What’s the matter?  Are you afraid to show your face, Ugly?”

The two fillies laughed at their own antics until a large hairy arm shot out from under the cardboard and grabbed Silver Spoon.  The little filly’s screams were cut short as she disappeared into the box.  Those who witnessed this laughed as the box went on its way, and Diamond Tiara took off screaming in terror.  If someone wanted to play a joke on those two bullies, more power to them.   


*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


Rotnart looked around at all the weird looking costumed horses.  “So this holiday is to celebrate you letting these idiots live another year if they give you some candy?”

“It would appear so,” replied the Pony of Shadows.  “In ages past, these peasants would have given me five foals every year or I would destroy their town.  I look forward to returning to the good old days.”

“You and me both,” replied the troll.  And with that, the king strolled forward like he owned the place.  Ponies everywhere stopped and stared at this newcomer in the hideous costume.  One particularly scrawny pony dressed as a pirate came up to him.  In a British accent he asked, “Wow, I’ve never seen a costume that ugly before.  How’d you make it?”

Resisting the urge to turn the youngling into a doll where he stood, Rotnart answered, “Wood, rubber, and formaldehyde.”  The troll stepped around the foal, but the young pony followed him.

“That is so cool.  You know, there was this other pony that wore a costume kind of like yours a couple of days ago.  He was practicing for Nightmare Night as a shaved minotaur.  He looked ridiculous.  You should have seen him.”

Rotnart rolled his eyes and kept walking.

“Oi, would you like to come with me to the Nightmare Moon statue to leave a candy offering?”

“No.”

“Ah, come on.  All the other kids are going to be there.  Just think how cool it would be if I got to introduce the scariest monster in Equestria to my class mates.”

The troll stopped walking as he took this information in.  He had to keep himself from salivating there in the middle of the street.  An opportunity like this was just what he was waiting for.  “You know, that does sound like fun after all.  Lead the way.”


*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


After getting away from the crowded streets of Ponyville, the young troll had wandered down a maze of hay bales.  Rabuf sighed as he took off his compromised stealth suit he had spent hours making.  It was a shame to throw it away.  However, he did manage to grab himself an opossum.  His brother would be pleased.  Taking the small statue out of his pack, he examined the little wooden doll and wondered if it tasted good.  Before he could find out, an ancient voice asked, “Youngun.  Did you make that?”

Rabuf froze.  He hadn’t realized he had come to the maze’s end.  There in front of him was an old light-green pony dressed like a scarecrow.  She was pointing at the wooden statue in his hands.  The troll in response held up the box he had been wearing.  “Yes, I did.  It’s called the wheredgo.  She’s a beauty, isn’t she?  Made her with my own two hands.  She gets .01 g.p.ms on the road and 30,000 off it.  She’s yours for a song and dance.”   

Granny Smith blinked a couple of times.  “Do your parents know that you wandered up this way?”

“My mom’s a tree.  My dad’s dead.  He exploded when a human kissed him.  I didn’t see it for myself because I was low-hanging fruit, dangling from my mom.”

Before Rabuf could say anything else, the earth pony held up her hoof.  “Sonny, you’re stranger then Discord’s middle name, but you look like you got a strong back.  I need some help filling up these bobbing baskets with apples and water.  My grand children ain’t here yet, and I need to get this done.  If ya help me out, I’ll give you some bits for ya trouble.  Maybe it’ll pay for a cat scan or two.  What do you say?”

The troll thought about this deal for a few seconds before saying, “Throw in a new wheredgo, and we got a deal.” 

“A what?  Never mind.  Let’s shake on this before I take my meds and come to my senses.”

As Rabuf happily shook the hoof of Granny Smith, she immediately turned into a wooden doll.	  

The troll’s heart dropped into his bowels.  “Oopsie.  Uh, I’d better start filling up those baskets.”  


*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


Minutes later, Rotnart found himself in the middle of a couple dozen foals and their parents.  Despite being in a target-rich environment, he had to wait to make his move.  It would look bad if he turned one of them into wood in front of such a large group.  Perhaps his brother’s cardboard costume wasn’t as stupid as he first thought.  “So, what’s supposed to happen now?”

“Well, after we leave some of our candy at the base of the statue, Nightmare Moon appears and accepts the offering,” answered Pip.

“Is she fat?  I mean she’s got a lot of candy to eat there, and if she has to stop by all the towns in the area, she probably looks like a beached whale by the time she gets here.”

Pip laughed.  “Naw, she’s a lovely princess.  I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

But the princess was late, and the ponies became impatient.  After half an hour of waiting, the ponies made their way back to town, leaving Pip and the troll king in front of a mountain of candy.

The little pirate looked very depressed.  “I’m sure she’s still coming.  Let’s give it a few more minutes.  Please?”

Seeing no one else in sight, Rotnart began to reach for the foal to turn him into a doll.  “Sure kid, take all the time you need.”

At that moment, the wind began to blow, and the sky filled with ominous grey clouds.  

Pip smiled happily.  “She’s here!”

A flash of lighting blinded the troll.  After rubbing away the after images, a tall blue alicorn stood in front of the candy.  She raised a hoof to the air and yelled.  “Citizens of Ponyville, your princess has arrived.”

The king was nearly blown over by the sheer volume of the newcomer’s voice.

“Ah, young Pip, it is good to see you again.  Where is everypony else?”

“They went back to town, your highness.  Uh, you’re a little late.”

Luna’s eyes widened.  “What?  I am not.”  The princess looked at the moon’s position and frowned.  “Yes, I am.  I am so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, princess.  I made a new friend.”  Pip pointed to the troll.  “Princess Luna, this is Rotnart, a fearsome troll from another world.  He stayed with me waiting for you when everypony else had gone back.”

The alicorn smiled at Pip.  “Did he now?”  Turning her attention to the very worried-looking Rotnart, Luna said, “Thank you for staying with Pip.  I know it meant a lot to him.”

The troll smiled nervously.  “Uh, no problem.”

The princess looked at the both of them.  “To reward you both for your vigil and your offering, I shall hereby spend one hour with the two of you.  Come, my friends.  Let us indulge in glorious fun.”

“Yay!  Best Nightmare Night ever,” shouted Pip.

“F*&#ing hell . . . uh, I mean woo hoo!” cried Rotnart not so enthusiastically.       


*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


“Hold on, ya old opossum.  Rabuf will save you!”  Sprinting over to one of the baskets filled with water, Rabuf grabbed the pony that was obviously trying to drown itself.  But as he lifted the opossum out of the water, the critter had turned to wood.  Without a second glance, the troll tossed the doll into a different basket that was almost full of other dolls and ran to the next opossum that was trying to kill itself.  

A few baskets down from the troll, a donkey lifted his head out of the water.  “Hey!  There’s no apples in this thing!”

Rabuf froze, arms just inches from the donkey’s face.  He wasn’t expecting the cranky opossum to come up for air.  “What now,” asked the troll?

“Are you deaf?  There are no apples at the bottom.  It’s just water.”

The troll looked from the donkey to the basket of water and then to the huge pyramid of apples off to the side.  “Ohhhh, that’s what you’re doing!  This all makes a lot more sense now.  Yeah, I forgot the apples.  Sorry about that.”

Before the angry donkey could scream at the incompetent worker, he looked around.  None of the ponies he walked in here from the hay maze with were around.  “Hey, where’s Matilda, Setting Sun, Uncle Fritz, and the rest of the Ponyville Old Timers Society?”  

Rabuf debated if he should tell this animal the truth.  “You know what?”  And with that, the donkey met the same fate as his friends.  

As the troll hurried from basket to basket dumping in apples, the next group of ponies walked in.  

A tiny filly with a bow in her mane made her way up to Rabuf.  “Hey.  Where’s Granny Smith?  And who are you?”

“Uh,” the troll frantically looked around until he layed eyes on a small building with a moon on its door.  “She’s in there?”

“She’s in the outhouse?”

The troll frowned.  “Aren’t all houses outhouses since they’re outside?”

Before the foal could answer, a much larger earth pony knocked on the door.  “Are you in there Granny?  Are ya okay?”

The troll started to sweat.  He had to come up with something fast.  He turned around so that none of the other ponies could see what he was up to.  Clearing his throat he started to talk, but his voice was now coming from the outhouse.  “Yeah, this is I, Sranny Gmith. I am not a troll.”

Big Mac paused.  “Granny, are you okay?   You sound awful.”

“Well I sound better than you look you fugly opossum . . . I’m sorry, dear.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

Coughing to clear his lungs, Rabuf turned around and declared.  “My name’s Rabuf.  Granny put me in charge until her grandkids got here.”

Applebloom eyed the stranger suspiciously.  “That’s us.  You can go now.  We’ll take it from here.”

Rabuf nodded enthusiastically.  And with that, the troll scooped up his basket of dolls and made his way back through the maze.


*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


“Daddy, I’m telling you something grabbed her from underneath a cardboard box.  I can’t find her anywhere.  I think something bad happened to Silver Spoon.”

Filthy Rich was barely paying any attention to his daughter.  He was too busy thinking about how to make more money.  “Oh, your friend is fine, princess.  It was probably Rainbow Dash pulling a Nightmare Night prank.  Heh, I did that a lot, too, when I was her age.”

The pink foal shivered.  “That didn’t feel like a prank, daddy.”

Before her father could reply, he bumped into a pony in a hideous costume carrying a basket of wooden dolls.  The figures went everywhere, and Filthy’s jaw dropped.  He had never seen such detailed statues anywhere.  Not even in the Canterlot museums.  He picked up one of the figures and knew then and there he had money in his hands.  “These are amazing.  Sir, did you make these?”

Rotnart shook his head.  “No, I didn’t make these opossums.”  He picked up two of the dolls and explained.  “You see, when a mommy opossum and a daddy opossum love each other very much, they make little opossums.  I’m here to turn little opossums into wood.”  

Filthy Rich nodded, not really caring what the other guy was saying.  “How much do you want for these sculptures?”

The troll frowned.  “What do I want for the wooden opossums?  My brother and I want power.  We become powerful when we turn opossums into dolls.”

The greedy pony nodded absently.  “I hear you, friend.  But to get power, you need money.  And I think you and I can sell these dolls to make money, lots of money.”

“Daddy.”

Mr. Rich looked down at his daughter.

The little filly held up one of the dolls in her trembling hooves.  “This one looks exactly like Silver Spoon. It even has her costume details, the one she was wearing tonight.”

Filthy Rich took the doll from his daughter and shrugged, “I’m sure that’s just a coincidence, sweetheart.”  The pony then started to laugh.  “I mean how could this pony carve a statue like that in one night?”  

Rabuf laughed with Filthy for a few moments before saying, “I don’t know why we’re laughing, but I enjoy it.”

“How many of these dolls do you have, friend?”

“I lost count, but then again I don’t know what numbers are.”

Filthy counted them all and did a quick calculation.  “I think we can sell these things at 50 bits a pop, maybe more.  If you’d come by my stand near town hall, I can guarantee you we can sell all of these dolls by the end of the night.  You and your brother will become very rich and powerful.”

The troll’s eyes lit up at that.  “My brother does like power.  And I think I do too.  I don’t know, cause I’ve never had it before.”

The older pony held out his hoof.  “Do we have a deal?”

Rabuf was about to shake the pony’s hoof, but at the last moment pulled his hand back.  “We got a deal. Sorry I can’t shake.  I got hand herpes.  I wouldn’t want to give it to you.” 

Filthy immediately retracted his hoof and wiped it on his jacket.  “Come, Diamond Tiara.  Daddy has business to attend to.”  Hearing no reply from his daughter, the older pony looked up and down the maze.  He shrugged and declared, “She’s probably bobbing for apples.  Come on, friend.  Let’s get you set up.”
> The Value of a One-Legged Cat
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight smiled as she looked at herself in the mirror.  With Rarity’s help, they had made a very convincing Clover the Clever costume.  True, it was not as ornate as her Starswirl the Bearded robes, but it had its own simple charms.  As she adjusted her tan traveler’s cloak, her eyes locked on the reflection of a large book on a nearby table.  The alicorn’s mood changed from joy to melancholy.  She picked up the book with her magic and absently flipped through it. 

“Hey, what do you think of my costume?  Do you think Rarity will like it?”

Twilight looked up to see Spike had painted himself dark green.  “And what are you supposed to be?”

“An emerald.  This costume is easy for me to pull off because I don’t have to paint my stomach.”  Spike was about to say more when he saw that his friend was holding Ernest’s book.  “Are you still upset that he left that here?”

Twilight nodded.  “I should have made sure he had this with him.  Now he has to explain to Old Lady Hackmore why he doesn’t have her book.”

Spike looked at the picture depicted in the book.   It showed a grotesque troll holding a wooden doll high over its head in front of a warped tree.  “Hey Twilight, do you think Ernest was telling the truth about those trolls he fought in his world?”

“Well, I learned a lot from our trip to the Crystal Empire.  Before we left, I spent some time in the library.  I found an ancient tome describing the history of King Sombra and his allies during the Crystal Heart Wars.  There was indeed a tribe of trolls that he corrupted.”

“But he banished them to Tartarus, didn’t he?”

Twilight shook her head.  “No, Spike, he didn’t.  The trolls were decimated during the siege of the Crystal Empire.  The Crystal Heart killed almost all the trolls during the fighting.  When Sombra finally wrested control of the Crystal Empire from the two sisters, only one troll out of the thousands survived.  But this lone survivor was powerful beyond measure.”

A block of ice began to form in Spike’s stomach.  “What happened to the troll?”

“Thinking he was victorious, he rewarded his champion.  Sombra opened a door to another world so that the troll could conquer it and rule it for himself.  Soon after his champion left, the two sisters retook the Crystal Empire and banished Sombra.”

“Do you think Trantor and the troll from the Crystal Heart Wars is one and the same?” 

“I don’t know Spike.  But there is a legend that the librarian told me.  She said that Sombra gave this troll a book of all his spells before sending him through the portal.  If the legend is true, then the troll in theory could find its way back here.”

Spike gulped and stared at the page.

Panicked knocking on the door startled the scared dragon. 

“Ms. Twilight, I mean, Princess Twilight.  I need your help.  Please!”  The voice from outside the library was very frantic.

From across the room Twilight opened the door and frowned.  “Diamond Tiarra?”

The pink earth pony’s eyes were wide with fear “I, I think something happened to Silver Spoon.  Something grabbed her and turned her into a doll.”

In a calm voice that did not betray her rising apprehension, she asked “Spike, could you bring me Ernest’s book please.”

Nodding, the baby dragon obeyed and brought the large tome over to his friend.

“Is this what you saw?” asked Twilight.

The filly at first winced at the unpleasant picture, but soon her gaze focused on the troll and the doll held in its hand.  “Yeah, this pony’s costume looked a lot like this.  And this guy had a huge basket full of wooden pony dolls.  They were of ponies from here in Ponyville.  I know this sounds crazy but these dolls looked exactly like Silver Spoon, that cranky donkey, Matilda . . .”

Twilight held up a hoof.  She had heard enough.  “Where did you see this pony?”

“In the hay maze.  He was coming from Granny Smith’s apple bobbing stand.”

Twilight turned and looked at her pet who was perched on a nearby tree branch, listening to every word.  “Owlowiscious, I need you to find Fluttershy.  Tell her to meet me at Sugarcube Corner.  I know this is Nightmare Night, but tell her this is important.”

Nodding, the owl took off through an open window.  

“Spike, you get Rarity.  I’ll find Rainbow Dash and Pinkie.  We’ll meet at Granny Smith’s apple bobbing stand.  Hopefully, Applejack will be there.”

“Why don’t we just find this thing and douse it with milk?  Isn’t that what Ernest did?”  Spike suggested.  

Twilight nodded.  “Good idea Spike.  We’ll stop by some of the ice cream stands on the way.  I don’t want to destroy this troll if we can avoid it, but we should be prepared for the worst.”

“What should I do?” Diamond Tiara asked.

Twilight thought for a moment before saying, “I need you to find Scootaloo.”


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  



Rotnart’s grip tightened on the rubber spider in his sweaty hand.  Before him was a net, a mere twenty feet away from him.  The stakes-- bragging rights for this year’s Nightmare Night spider throw.  He needed to hurl this sorry excuse for an arachnid at the dead center of the sticky bull’s eye.     

“Hurry up, Rotnart.  Throw the thing already.  We got loads more to do after this,” squeaked Pip.

The troll ignored the foal and drew back his arm to throw the eight-legged projectile.

(Cough).

The noise completely threw off the troll’s aim, and he missed the target completely.  He rounded on Princess Luna.  “You did that on purpose!”

Feigning shock, the alicorn replied, “What?  Friend Rotnart, how could you accuse me of such trickery?  It was mere coincidence.  I needed to clear my throat the moment you were taking your turn.  You believe me, don’t you?”

The troll glared at her for a few more moments, but he could not stop himself from laughing.  “Trantor’s nuts.  I would have done the same thing.  Well played.”

As the other ponies cheered their princess, Rotnart received an irritating message from the Pony of Shadows.  “What are you doing?”

The troll rolled his eyes.  “What the hell does it look like?  I’m blending in.”

“No, you’re not.  You’re wasting time having fun with children.  Your father would be ashamed of you.”

“Well, his opinion doesn’t count for much since he’s dead.  And what’s wrong with having some fun while I work on world domination?”  The troll king winced.  He had said that a bit too loud, and some of the other ponies were looking at him in a funny way.

“Do not let these creatures sway you from the path you’re on.  When one has power, true power, friends will come to you.  I guarantee it.”

In a quieter voice, Rotnart replied, “Yeah, whatever.  Why don’t you pester my brother for a change?”

The voice hesitated before replying.  “I can’t”

“You’re kidding.  Okay, I’ll bite.  Why not?”

“I know not.  I can’t establish a mental connection.  I assumed he at least possessed the cognitive faculties of a newt, but I was mistaken.”

The troll wanted to tear his hair out in frustration.  But instead, he took a deep breath and asked, “Where is he?”

“I know not that either.  I only see and hear what you see and hear.”

Before Rotnart could berate his ally, he felt a tapping on his leg.  He looked down and saw Pip.

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one important, special, or useful in any way.  What do you need?”

“Some of my class mates say there’s this one bloke in the middle of town selling really life-like wooden pony dolls.  Me and princess Luna are going to check this guy out.  Are you coming?”

Rotnart’s eyes started to twitch uncontrollably.  “Like a filly in heat.”  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  



Bon Bon looked at Lyra and sighed.  She was hoping her best friend would perk up during the Nightmare Night celebration.  Sadly, this had not been the case.  Lyra hadn’t been herself since a couple days ago when she saw that pony dressed as a human.  She was still so adamant that the pony at the bakery was a legit human that she had done her best to copy his costume.  Garbed in denim pants and vest and wearing a strange-looking hat, she got plenty of looks.  Some even recognized the costume from a couple of days ago.  

To try and lighten her friend’s mood, she suggested, “Hey Lyra, I hear there’s somepony selling top-notch pony figures at Filthy Rich’s booth.  You wanna check it out?”

Her friend shrugged, “Sure, I guess.”

Shortly thereafter, Bon Bon and Lyra found themselves at the end of a long, slow-moving line. 

“Wow, this guy must be really popular.”

Lyra nodded absently as the line crept forward at a snail’s pase.  Eventually, Lyra caught sight of one of the dolls that was sold to an ecstatic foal.  

The child laughed with delight.  “I can’t believe how much this doll looks like grandpa, mommy.”

The mother smiled.  “I know, sweetheart.  We need to show this to him.”

For some reason Lyra began to feel uncomfortable.  There was something off about that doll.  It seemed almost too life-like, and the look of terror carved into the doll’s face was chilling.  But then again, it was Nightmare Night.  Things were supposed to be scary.

Finally, the pair of ponies made it to within shouting distance of the booth.  And that was when Lyra beheld the merchants.  She recognized the smug, greasy features of Filthy Rich, but that was not what was causing the blood to drain from her face.  Grabbing her friend, Lyra pointed at the thing handing a doll to another happy customer.  “Bon Bon, that’s a troll.”

Lifting the shades of her “Ponies in Black” costume, Bon Bon looked at the ugly merchant.  “Is that what he’s dressed as?  I thought he was a short orc.”

“No, I mean he’s really a troll.”  Dropping her voice to a whisper, she continued, “I think he’s turning ponies into dolls to create a troll army.  He must have warped one of the trees in the Everfree Forest.  Those trees are very old and more suited to being converted into an incubator.”

Bon Bon looked at her friend and laughed.  “And I thought you were only crazy when it came to humans.”

“Darn it, I’m being serious.”

The earth pony closed her eyes and sighed.  “I was hoping you were not going to say that.  Lyra, I love you, but you are going to have to dial back your enthusiasm for weird stuff.  I mean, listen to yourself.  Trolls can’t use magic to turn ponies into dolls and warp trees.”

Lyra nodded.  “I know.  But there was this one tribe of trolls a long time ago who Sombra corrupted that did just that.  And the thing up there looks just like one.  He looks exactly like the pictures in my books that I got from the Crystal Empire.”

“Okay, look.  As long as you don’t try to kidnap him and take him to Canterlot like you did with that “human” a couple of days ago, there won’t be a problem.  I’m going up there and getting one of those freaky-looking dolls.  Are you coming with me or not?”

“No.  We should be getting help.  That troll is dangerous.”

Bon Bon shook her head in bewilderment.  “No, he’s not.  That is somepony dressed up to look like a troll.  Just like that pony was in Sugarcube Corner.  I’ll tell you what.  You stay here while I go buy myself a doll.  Okay?”

Before Lyra could answer, the line moved forward, and to her surprise, they were face to face with the troll.  

“Well hello, opos--- I mean poynays . . . did I say that right that time?”  the troll asked, looking to Filthy Rich.  

The other pony shrugged.  “Eh, close enough.”

This seemed to please the Rabuf.

“Everything here is marked down for the low, low price of 50 bits per miniature.  Plus tax,”  Filthy stated in a giddy voice.

Both ponies looked at the dolls, but only Lyra could see the evil that was before her.  She recognized students from Cheerilee’s class, tenants from the old folks home, friends and ponies she had seen in passing:  all were represented on the table.  The unicorn had to fight to keep the rising horror she felt in her chest from showing on her face. 

“Hey, this one looks just like Colgate,” Bon Bon noted happily as she examined the statue.  

The troll rubbed his black eye.  “Yeah, that one was a pain to make.”

“I’ll take it.  How do you make these?” asked the mystified earth pony.  “They look so life-like, and I know she was wearing this exact toothpaste costume tonight.  How’d you carve this so fast?”

Rabuf shrugged.  “It ain’t hard.  Hey boss, can I show her?”

Filthy nodded as he counted Bon Bon’s bits. “Make it quick.” 

Lyra’s ears perked up at this.  “Bon Bon, no!  He’ll get you too.”

Filthy Rich sneered down at the mint-colored unicorn.  “Hey, if you ain’t buying, get out of the line.”

Latching onto her friend so that she couldn’t leave, Lyra snarled at the duded-up pony.  “How can you stand there and let him turn us into wooden dolls?”

The crowd started to talk amongst themselves and give the mint-coated pony strange looks.

Filthy let out a hearty belly laugh.   “Aw Lyra, you’re a hoot.  This fine fella isn’t a troll.  He’s just     . . . different.  And besides, Trolls can’t use magic.  Hey, why don’t you tell us something?  Did you ever manage to find that human who escaped from Sugarcube Corner?”

At this, the ponies crowding the booth started to giggle.  The memory of how Lyra acted at the bakery had made the rounds in Ponyville.    

Turning to his partner, the greasy pony continued, “You should have seen it, Rabuf.  There was this one pony passing through town in a shaved minotaur costume.  Pinkie Pie throws him a party.  All was going great until Lyra grabs this poor son-of-a-gun and starts screaming that she has a real-life human.  It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”  Mimicking Lyra’s voice, Filthy started to shake an imaginary pony while shouting, “I got a live one, Bon Bon.  It’s the real McCoy this time, I swear.”

All the ponies started laughing hysterically.  They remembered all too well what happened, and Filthy Rich’s description was very spot on.  

Lyra fought back the tears of frustration welling in her eyes.  “He was a real human.  And that is a real troll.  I can prove it.”

Ignoring the mare, Filthy called out to the crowd, “Who else wants a doll?  Ten bits off to the first five customers.  Come one, come all.”

The surge of ponies separated the two friends from each other.  The last Lyra saw of Bon Bon was her friend’s black outline disappearing around the booth’s corner.  “Bon Bon.  No!”   The unicorn gathered energy to cast a magic missile at the troll, but she was too late.  The troll was no longer there, and too many other ponies were blocking her aim.  Taking matters into her own hooves, she galloped to the rear of the booth and kicked open the door.  She was just in time to witness her best friend turn into wood and shrink.  

The troll for his part pulled at his beard in thought as the mint-colored unicorn froze in shock.  “Uh, yeah, I’ll give you this doll for half off if you can keep this hush, hush.”

Snapping out of her world-shattering surprise, Lyra snatched the doll out of the troll’s hand with her magic and bolted out the door.    

Rabuf cringed as the light-green pony ran into the night.  Filthy was not going to be happy at the loss of repeat business.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  



“Interesting, it would seem that Mr. Rich is the proprietor of the one who makes the wooden figures,” observed Princess Luna.  The trio were standing some feet away gawking at the ponies swarming a large, gaudy carnival stand. 

“Do you think he has any left?” asked Pip.

“He da-- . . .” Rotnart started to say, but a potent look from Luna made him clean up his vocabulary.  “I mean, he darn well better.”

Sensing the troll’s anger, the alicorn asked, “Is everything alright, Rotnart?  You seem more upset than usual.”

Before the troll could reply, an evil voice whispered, “Have her make you a path, you moron.  She’s a princess.  Use her.”

Pip saw the troll freeze with a stunned look on his face.  “Oi, Rotnart.  You okay?  You look like you just drank a really cold slushy.”

The troll king blinked and rubbed his head.  “I just had a brilliant idea.  Princess, can you perhaps use your royal influence to get us close to that stand?”

Luna hesitated, “Yes, I suppose I could, but . . .”

“Oh, please, please, pretty please, princess.  I’d really like to try and buy a doll,” pleaded Pip.

The alicorn sighed.  “Oh, I suppose I can exert my royal privilege at least once tonight.  Guards?”

With a single word, two bat-ponies descended to the ground without a sound.  One of them drew an ebony trumpet and blew a series of low, mournful notes.  As one, the crowd turned and parted to make way for the approaching alicorn and her entourage.    

“Your Highness.  How may this lowly servant serve you this lovely evening?” groveled Filthy.  

Luna didn’t answer at first as she browsed through the assortment of wooden dolls.  “These dolls are amazing, Mr. Rich.  I’ve never seen such craftsmanship, not since the days of Sombra.”  The Princess pondered this disturbing thought for a few moments before dismissing it.  After all, those terrible days happened a long time before she was banished.  Surely that old evil was behind her.  “Who made these?”

“A young fellow from out of town.  I found him coming from Granny’s hay maze, and I set him up here.”

“I’d like to meet this pony.  Where is he?”

“He’ll be back pretty soon.  I think he went to find an outhouse.”

Pip laughed.  “I got the one I want picked out.  It looks like Silver Spoon, and she’s getting the poo scared out of her.  What do you think, Rotnart?  Do you want one?”  Hearing no reply, the foal looked around in the crowd for his new friend.  “Hey, Princess, where’d Rotnart go?”

“I’m not sure, Pip.  But he’s probably nearby.  Come, the troll king shall find us at yon pumpkin chuckin grounds as we indulge in more fun.”


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  



After finishing his business, Rabuf started to make his way back to the stand.  But before he could take a step, he heard a strange noise. “Pssst.”  The troll looked straight up at the sky and saw nothing.  He could have sworn it was a crocodile flying past.  “Pssst!”  There it was again, louder than before.  This time Rabuf looked straight down.  Was the grass talking to him?  As soon as he bent down to listen, a large rock sailed over his head.  

“Mother F#&$er!”  

Rabuf looked up.  He recognized that angry voice.  Sure enough, there was his older brother, frantically gesturing his way.  The younger troll smiled and bounded over to his older sibling.  But instead of getting a hug like he’d hoped, Rotnart grabbed him and shoved him down a dark alley between two buildings.

“What in the name of all that is troll are you doing out there?” Rotnart asked, trembling with rage.”

“I’m turning opossums into little wooden opossums.  I thought that’s what I was supposed to do?”

The troll king rubbed his hateful, bloodshot eyes.  He drew a deep breath to calm himself. “Brother, I’ve seen some F#&*ed up $&*t in the past few days, and most of it was done by you.   But what you’re doing out there, right now, is just sick.  I would have never thought you’d sell the dolls back to their families and friends.”

Rabuf blushed.  “Ahh, thanks boss.”

Rotnart shot forward, his vicelike hands linking around Rabuf’s throat.  “That was not a compliment.  Who told you to sell the dolls?  Was it that asshole pony you were working with?”

Rabuf nodded as his brother’s grip tightened, choking off air to his brain.

“Troll King, there’s a problem,” declared the Pony of Shadows.

“You think?” spat Rotnart.  “How many dolls did you sell, you traitor?”

Rabuf shrugged, since he couldn’t speak.   

“Release him.  Our enemies are gathering.  If those six ponies join forces with Princess Luna, then our plan will be ruined beyond repair.”

The troll king let go of his brother who collapsed to the ground wheezing “Thanks, boss.  My neck feels much better.”

Ignoring Rabuf, Rotnart asked, “How do you know where those ponies are?  You’ve been about as useful as a one-legged cat trying to bury a turd this whole damn night.”

“The six have just now gathered together.  Even in my weakened state, I can feel their energy from the castle.  I suggest you two retrieve what dolls are left and head for the Tree of Harmony.”    

Rotnart thought for a moment.  “We’ll never make it, at least not both of us.  Can you lend me your powers for a short time?”

There was a pause before the phantom pony replied, “Yes.”

The king turned to his brother and helped him to his feet.  “Rabuf.  Brother.  I am going to ask you to do a very hard thing.  Maybe the hardest thing you’re ever going to do in your life.  But the future of our race is now in your hands.  I need you to concentrate and pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you.”


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  



In a clearing at the very edge of Ponyville, DJ P0N-3 made the final adjustments to her Percussion Symphony 10000 Moon Mixer.  Sitting down on the stage she and her helper had erected, she called over to her assistant, “Hey, Iron Will, you about done with the lights?”

“Yeah.  Screwing in the last bulb now.  If they can’t see the light, they’re not too bright.”

The DJ smiled as a thought occurred to her.  “Hey, have you seen that guy in the shaved minotaur costume yet?”

Iron Will stopped what he was doing for a moment before picking up where he left off, “No,” he replied a little too angrily.  

The unicorn smiled, knowing she had struck a nerve.  “Hey, it’s no big deal.  I was just wondering.  I wanted to get his autograph for beating a legit minotaur in a hoof-wrestling match.  That was epic.”

Nostrils flaring, Iron Will turned around and replied, “He got lucky.  He must have been a unicorn in disguise and used his magic to dull my wits.  If somepony cheats, make them weep.”

Vinyl Scratch nodded.  “Yeah, there was something off about that pony.  I mean, who dresses like that?  That’s like the fourteenth weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Mark my words.  If I see that, that cheater tonight, I’ll peel him like a banana and squish his gooey bits between my fingers.”

The unicorn raised her eyebrows.  “Dang, Dude.  Didn’t you have seminars or something teaching ponies how to chillax?  Cause, I can see your head veins from here.”  

Before the irate minotaur could reply, a mint-colored unicorn dressed in a denim vest and twill cap came galloping out of nowhere.  She was grasping a creepy-looking doll with her magic.  Seeing the two entertainers, she hurried over their way.  

“Please, I need help!  He, he, the troll turned Bon Bon into doll,” replied the distraught pony.  

At this, DJ P0N-3 raised her sunglasses off her eyes.  “What?”  

“That troll, that thing that’s with Filthy Rich selling wooden dolls.  They’re not wooden dolls, they’re real ponies.  They were turned into dolls by the troll.   We gotta stop him.” 

Iron Will took a close look at the figure Lyra was carrying.  He had seen Bon Bon earlier tonight, and this doll was a spitting image of her.  “Take me to this troll.”

Vinyl Scratch looked at the minotaur in surprise.  “Really?  You’re going to check this out?”

“If somepony’s in trouble, all our problems double.  Let’s go, Lyra.” 

“Hey, wait up,” called the DJ.  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  



Pip sighed as he watched Princess Luna load and fire a pumpkin-laden catapult.  The vegetable hit the bull’s eye dead on.  The little pony stamped his hooves with the rest of Luna’s adoring subjects, but his enthusiasm was gone.  

“Fret not little Pip.  I am sure King Rotnart will grace us with his presence again before the celebration ends.”

The foal looked up at his favorite princess.  “You think so?  I just don’t want him to leave without me getting to say goodbye first.  I know he’s a foul-mouth git, but he’s a good friend.  I mean, he was the only one who stayed with me waiting for you when everypony else had gone back to the party.”

Luna nodded in understanding.  “A pony like that is indeed hard to come by.  I am very happy that you got to meet him.”

“Me, too,” a familiar voice said. 

Both ponies turned in surprise to see Rotnart coming down the road.

Pip galloped up to his friend and hugged him.  “I thought you’d gone away, and I wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye.”

The troll froze.  He had not expected to be hugged.  That was how his father had died, by a hug and a kiss from Ernest P. Worrell.  Carefully, Rotnart patted the little pirate’s hat.  “I wouldn’t do that to ya, kid.  We’re friends.”

Pip looked up at the troll.  “Hey, do you want to see my . . .” The foals words were drowned out by something very noisy coming up from behind them.  

The troll king turned, and what he saw was like a blow to his stomach.  The vehicle had changed since he’d last laid eyes on it.  If anything, the truck of Troll Fighter One looked even more formidable as it sped down the dirt road towards him.  It was as if a mad scientist had taken Worrell’s truck and made it ten times faster and meaner.  As it came to a stop, a large group of costumed ponies gathered around to see what was happening.  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  



Twilight’s breath caught in her throat.  That troll was way too close to Princess Luna.  And why was that foal hugging that monster?  Swallowing her fear, she said to Scootaloo, “This is close enough.”

The foal nodded and stopped the truck.  “Are you guys sure you can handle that thing?”  Scoots asked, pointing at the troll.  “This baby has some pretty sweet tricks under its hood.”  The little pegasus patted the dashboard lovingly.  

From the back seat, Rainbow Dash ruffled the driver’s mane.  “Naw, we got this one, squirt.  Just sit back, and keep the engine running.  I wanna go for a ride when this is over.”  

Unbuckling her seatbelt, Twilight examined the situation.  Turning to the cyan pegasus, she asked, “Rainbow Dash, can you . . .”

“Stick this cup of ice cream up the troll’s nose?  On it.” And with that, the flyer shot out of the truck’s rolled-down window, straight for the troll.

“No!  Wait!” but the plea came much too late.  

Quicker than a rattle snake, Rotnart brought up his arm and caught the pony by the throat.  In desperation, the pony smeared the dairy treat all over the troll’s arm.  Rotnart smiled.  “Nice try, but the one-legged cat has cured me of that weakness.”  These were the last words Rainbow Dash heard before she was turned to wood.   

It took a moment before the realization of what just happened could sink in.  This was all the time that Rotnart needed. Before the first shrieks of terror from the crowd could be screamed, the troll was already moving.

The king pivoted on his heel and launched himself at the night princess with speed that rivaled the Wonder Bolt Wannabe.  Luna’s guards tried to intercept the attacking troll, but they were swatted aside as if they were gnats.  Luna, a veteran of countless battles, recovered from this treachery and brought up a magic barrier to defend herself.  But with one massive blow, the troll shattered the shield, and with the gentlest of gestures, touched Luna on the muzzle. 

Nostrils flaring in rage, Luna blasted the troll.    

The troll left enormous ditches in the earth where his hands slowed his momentum.  

“Rotnart?”  

The troll looked behind him.   In the midst of dozens of ponies fleeing for their lives was Pip.  He was crying and staring at him with the strangest of looks.  He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t scared, he was heart broken.  Clutching the Rainbow Dash doll in his little hooves, he asked, “Why?”

The king never got to reply.  One of the lunar guards swept down and took the little foal away, just before a lavender beam struck the troll in the face.  Spitting out a tooth, the troll dizzily got to his feet and was immediately shot back down by the lavender unicorn. 

The troll tried to rise again, but a strong hoof pinned him to the ground.  

“This is for Granny and Dashy,” yelled Applejack before she began to pound him into the dirt.

The pony reared up and brought her shod hooves down on the troll.  Rotnart could feel something break in his chest.  

“Wait,” the evil alicorn commanded.

The troll did as he was commanded and let the pony hit him again.  He could feel his already abused face begin to buckle under the mare’s hooves.  The evil alicorn’s power was drying up.  His ally was close to collapse, funneling her power through their mind link.  He felt every single one of his broken ribs, torn mucles, and pulverized teeth.  He and the Pony of Shadows knew there was enough energy between them for one attack before he blacked out.   

“Wait,” the same dark voice repeated.

“Applejack!  Applejack!  That’s enough!”  a sweet, shy voice pleaded. 

“Darling, please stop.  He’s down; you got him.”  

Rotnart looked with his hazy vision to see four mares.   A pink, a white, and a yellow pony were all trying to wrestle the berserk orange pony off him.  It was at this moment the troll noticed a wooden doll in the form of an old mare tied around the farmpony’s neck.  No wonder she was mad. 

“Now!” the Pony of Shadows shouted.

Surging forward, the troll touched all four ponies in quick succession and collapsed to the ground unconscious.  

Pinkie poked the troll a couple of times before yelling, “We did it!  Victory party at my place tonight!”

Rubbing her sore hooves, Applejack snarled, “When that critter wakes up, he’s gonna turn everypony back to the way they were, or else.”

Rarity nodded.  “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

“It was pretty bad,” Fluttershy replied dryly.  “I just hope we didn’t hurt him too badly.”

“Oh, no, not you too!”  

The four mares turned to face Twilight.	

“What’s wrong, darling?” asked Rarity.

“Look at yourselves.”

The mares did.  Each one of them was ever so slowly shrinking and turning into wood.  

Fighting down a wave of panic, Applejack nearly yelled at Twilight, “Sugar Cube, go get Princess Luna.  She’ll know what to do.”

Her voice choked with sadness, Twilight replied, “She, she . . . can’t talk.  She’s changing just like the four of you.  I don’t know how to help her.  All of my spells aren’t working.” 

“What about Zecora?” asked Pinkie.  “I bet she can whip up something that can help, or at least keep the termites away.”

Twilight seized upon this ray of hope like a drowning pony to a plank of wood.  “Pinkie, you’re a genius.  I’ll get one of the lunar guards to look after you.  Just stay calm.  I’ll be back with Zecora.”  Taking off into the night sky, she scanned the town as quickly as she could.  But time was against her, she had to find a costumed zebra in a town full of costumed ponies.  Panic flooded back into the alicorn as she screamed, “Zecora!  Where are you?”	

> Monster Cart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ernest tightened the last bolt and smiled.  While toying with the wrench, the redneck said happily, “Yes, sir.  When vice-principal Luna hired me as a temporary janitor for Canterlot High School, little did she know that she had employed Ernest P. Worrell, Master of Mechanical Marvels, Doge of Drills, and Nemesis of Nails.  For I have done this institution a great service of creating the great, the powerful, the ---"

“Hi, Ernest.”

The surprised custodian dropped the wrench.  He turned to see Sunset Shimmer looking at him with an amused smile.  

“Who are you talking to?” she asked.

“When one treasures one’s own company, one is never without stimulating conversation.  How was school?”

The teenager shrugged.  “Oh, you know, the usual.  Hated, misunderstood, belittled in front of my peers.”

Ernest frowned, “Pears?  Who cares what pears think?  Now granted, it’s a tasty snack that’s good for ya, but I wouldn’t worry about what it thought.  They’re just funny-looking apples.  What do they know?”

Sunset couldn’t help but shake her head and giggle.  For some reason, seeing this goofy alien from another world was the highlight of her day.  She turned her attention to the machine Ernest was working on.  “What are you doing with the golf cart?”

The redneck beamed proudly.  “I’d thought you’d never ask.  You know, Sunny, golf carts are wasted on golf.  They can be used for so much more than hauling around men in funny skirts.   With a single cart, some elbow grease, and good ole American ingenuity, one can reinvent the janitorial profession and increase one’s personal productivity by another twelve Worrells.  So I just commandeer one and make some modest modifications.”

“Modest?” asked the teenager in disbelief.  “It looks like a mini-monster truck.  You welded hydraulic arms to the sides, replaced the dashboard with a keyboard and monitor, bolted a bulldozer blade to the front, and replaced the electric motor with . . . what is that?  Does it work?”  She looked at the janitor curiously.     

“I was about to take the machine a.k.a Willie out for a test run.  My friend Vern taught me all about quantum mechanics, hydraulics, and artificial intelligence.  You want to come?”

Sunset took a step back from the questionable vehicle.  “Maybe some other time.  I actually want to talk to you about something.”

Ernest’s voice took on a nervous tone as he replied, “Before you say anything, I want you to know I had nothing to do with the toilets backing up in the teacher wreck room.  Some kid must have snuck in there and flushed that gallon of Flex Seal.  But, it was probably just to help stop those darn things from leaking all the time.  Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh, kids these days.” 

Sunset didn’t reply.  Instead it seemed like she was in her own world.  She leaned against one of the work tables in the custodian work area and marshaled her thoughts.  “Ernest, could I ask you something?”

The redneck frowned, “Sure Sunny, is something wrong?"

“Yes, no, I . . . you know that the Halloween school festival is tonight, right?”

“Oh, yeah, luckily I got the night off so I can disco, hip-hop, and chow-down with the cool kids.”   

“Well, at the end of the festival is the play The Eternal Student, and I have the main roll of the ghost that forever haunts the school.”

Ernest’s eyes lit up.  “That’s great.  I fancy myself as a bit of an actor myself.  I can give you some pointers if you like.  I got a great range of voices too, like my Canterlot voice.  Here’s a sample.  With a Scottish accent the redneck said, “Keep your heads down, lads.  Enemy arrows have the right of way on a red light but tracers work both ways.  Don’t worry about the hostages.  Any one of us can whip a hostage.  And no matter what, always remember anything you do can get you killed, including doing nothing.”  Returning to his normal voice the janitor asked, “What do you think?”    

“Uh, you sounded great,” Sunset said gently.  “But my question is, do you think I should trade roles with someone else, or not even show up?”

The redneck was shocked.  “Why would you do that?  You’re head ghost.  You never saw Casper quit when he got real nervous.”  

The teenager sighed.  “It’s not that I’m nervous about the part.  The only reason I got the lead role was because I bullied and threatened anyone who showed interest in playing the ghost.  I was a real different person at the beginning of the year, Ernest.  I feel like I don’t deserve to be up there with my fellow students that I’ve harassed.”

Ernest thought about this for a moment.  “Have you talked to your other buddies about this?”

Sunset looked down at her feet.  “No.  As much as I like Pinkie, Fluttershy, and the rest of the girls, you’re the one I can talk to without feeling judged.”

The troll fighter grinned.  “Ah shucks, Sunny, you’re pretty good yourself.  I can’t just tell anyone I’m an alien from a different dimension.  And I appreciate you not giving me over to whatever passes as Area 51 around here.”

Before the teenager could ask what Area 51 was, Ernest continued, “But if I were you, I’d definitely talk to the gang about this.”

“Why?” asked Sunset.

Ernest put his hands in his pockets in a shy manner.  “Let’s just say I’ve overheard Rarity, A.J., and R.D. discussing an array of topics, some of which made me a little uncomfortable.”

Sunset raised her eyebrows.

“It’s not what you think,” Ernest said quickly.  “I was in the air duct scraping out cake batter and glitter when I got stuck, and they walked right underneath me.  They were talking about inviting you to a slumber party after the festival.”

The former delinquent blinked in surprise.  Sure the girls were hanging out with her more since the time she tried to mind control the school, but she did not suspect she was making a great impression.  She felt awkward around her fellow students and never knew what to say.  She just felt guilty all the time and did her best to make things right.  “Really?  They were talking about me?” 

The custodian frowned and concentrated.  “Yeah, I think so.  I couldn’t hear much after chief janitor Cranky turned on the AC.  You never notice just how big, scary, and loud those fans are until your nose hair is being trimmed by them.  Ya know what I mean?”

Sunset considered this new information without speaking.  

Ernest wanted to say more, but one look at the wall clock made him think better of it.  “Well, Sunny, gotta go.  The shrubs aren’t gonna trim themselves . . . at least I hope they don’t.  That’s my job.”  After grabbing a pair of pruning shears, Ernest said over his shoulder.  “I think I saw the gang by the front statue.  If you’re heading that way, tell Fluttershy to tell Rimshot I said ‘Hi.’”


Minutes Later


Ernest watched the girls from afar and nodded in approval.  Sunset was talking to Fluttershy, Apple Jack, and the rest of her friends, and it looked like things were going well.  They were all pouring over papers and making notes between the lines.  Pinkie for her part was in the middle of writing when her hair started twitching erratically.  She looked over at something and touched Sunset’s shoulder and tilted her head in the direction she was looking at.  Following the hyper teenager’s gaze, Ernest saw vice-principal Luna approaching the group of girls. 

Ernest winced.  “Oh, I hope you’re not in trouble, Sunny.  I don’t think we got the budget if you blasted another crater in the school.”

“Ahem.”

The troll fighter cringed.  He knew at once who was standing behind him.  Putting on a big, happy grin, Ernest turned around.  “Hi, Mr. Cranky, Cranky Doodle, Sir.  What can I do ya for?”

The balding man in overalls was half the red neck’s height but twice as broad.  Cranky Doodle was the meanest custodian in the county, and he looked the part.  Sporting large cauliflower ears, a barrel chest, and huge gorilla-arms, the man was said to be as strong as an ass and just as cantankerous.  

“What in God’s name is a bucked-up golf cart doing in my garage, Worrell?”

“Uh, I rescued it.  Yeah, I rescued it from the clutches of Dr. Otto von Schnick -ick-ick-ick.  Otto was going to use that poor cart for experimentation.”  Ernest seamlessly switched personalities to that of a mad scientist.  “Oh yes.  This is perfect.  I, Dr. Otto von Schnick –ick-ick-ick will harness the power of evil magnets to transmorgify this mild-mannered golf cart into a weapon of mass moral dubiousness.  It will grab, push, and do things so unspeakable people will talk about them for generations.  Mwha, ha, ha, ha.”

Cranky didn’t even raise an eyebrow at Ernest’s gyrations.  “Son, if you had told me you boosted that thing from the Crystal Prep snobs down the road as a Halloween prank, I would have promoted and recommend you for a raise.”

Ernest snapped his fingers in frustration.  “Is it too late to change my answer?”        

The head janitor started to crack his knuckles.  “But since thisschool has a golf cart missing and there just so happens to be one in my garage right next to a canabalized bus, you leave me no choice.”

Ernest gulped.

“You’re pulling a triple shift tonight.  You ain’t leaving until the last dog dies, comes back as a zombie, and dies again.  Tonight you’re cleaning all the toilets, the sinks, the cafeteria, the floors, the classrooms, and picking up every piece of Halloween party crap that lands anywhere on this campus.  And if I catch you tinkering or bucking around with any other vehicle that belongs to this school without asking me first, you’re fired.  Capiche?”

The troll fighter nodded emphatically.  “Yes, sir.  I just about capiched myself.  These hands will never manipulate the mandibles of another mechanical masterpiece without your permission.” 

“Good.  Tomorrow you’re going to put that golf cart back where you got it, just like it was.  Don’t push me on this, Worrell.  Just because the higher-ups like you doesn’t mean I can’t can your hide for not following the rules.”  With a final glare, Cranky left the chastised Ernest to his trimming. 

Moments after the head custodian had departed, a familiar voice said gently, “Ernest?”

Ernest looked up to see the vice-principal standing on the other side of the hedge.  The janitor sighed, preparing for another verbal beating.  “Hi, vice-principal Luna.  How was your day?”

“It could have gone better, but it wasn’t bad.  I take it Mr. Doodle has informed you of our displeasure over the unwarranted seizure and modification of one golf cart?”

The troll fighter nodded.  “Yeah, I’m sorry ma’am.  It won’t happen again, scout’s honor.”

Luna pushed a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear.  “I also wanted to tell you that even though you are the most . . . unorthodox custodian my sister and I have ever hired, you are indeed an excellent counselor, as you had mentioned on your resume’.”

Ernest continued as if the vice-principal hadn’t spoken.  “I mean that golf cart just looked so lonely and sad sitting there out in the middle of the soccer field.  It was a mess, so I just thought I’d polish it up a bit, fill the tires, top off the gas tank, but I guess I got a little carried away.  I . . . what now?”

“You are excellent with the students, most notably with Sunset Shimmer.  Her demeanor has improved dramatically since your arrival.  Right after the Fall Formal incident she was quiet and detached from the rest of the student body.  She is not like that anymore.  She is becoming more outgoing and engaging with her new friends.  I attribute this change in attitude largely to you.” 

The janitor smiled.  “Yeah, Sunny’s a good kid.  They all are.”

Luna nodded.  “I couldn’t agree more.”  The assistant principal looked at her watch and said, “Well, I best be off.  But before I go, I’d like to apologize for being short with you and Sunset on your first day.  That was unprofessional.  I said I was sorry to Sunset a minute ago, now I’m saying it to you.”  

Ernest waved off the apology.  “That’s okay, ma’am.  Being a vice-principal is like being a camp counselor.  Both professions take nerves of steel, a heart of gold, a tongue of silver, and . . .” Ernest murmured the list again while counting on his fingers.  Coming up short he continued, “And a fourth thing that’s apparently not as important as the other three.”

“You’re right.  Having all of those things helps.”  Luna thought for a moment before adding, “If you wish, perhaps we could talk about transferring you over to an assistant position under Counselor Matilda.  That post hasn’t been filled for years.  Maybe we can do lunch together at that coffee shop across the street?”

All of sudden Ernest’s hands became really sweaty, and his heart rate quickened.  A little too quickly he replied, “Yeah, sure.   I can’t wait.  Uh, should I dress up?  I think I can find something dressy to wear at the Salvation Army.”

The vice-principal laughed.  “No need.  This will be pretty informal, but I like your attitude.”  

Seconds later, the honking of a car horn filled the air.  Luna’s cheeks darkened.  “That would be my sister.  Well, Ernest, I’ll see you tonight.”  And with that, the vice-principal took off at a brisk pace towards the parking lot.  A dumb-struck Ernest dazedly waved back.  “Yeah, I’ll see you later.  We’ll do lunch.”  Going back to his trimming Ernest thought about what just happened.  Eventually he came to a conclusion.  With a smug smile he said to himself, “Poor vice-principal Luna.  The ole Worrell charm has struck again.  Because of my pleasing aesthetical features I shall be taking the express escalator to the next floor of the Canterlot High School hierarchy.  For I, Ernest P. Worrell, shall hold the dual ranks of assistant counselor and janitor.”  Ernest shook his head in disbelief.  “How did this place ever get along without me?”


A few hours later


Ernest was putting the finishing touches on the last shrub.  He was singing one of his favorite love songs.  “Our love festers like an open wound.  Don’t call the doctor, I’ll be better soon.”  

At that moment an elated Sunset Shimmer came around the bend.  “Hey, Ernest, did vice-principal Lunaaaa--- oh my sweet Celestia.”  Sunset just gaped at the shrub Ernest was trimming.  It had been carved into the form of two people gazing into each other’s eyes while enjoying the same milkshake with two straws.  The teenager could not believe the amount of detail the red neck had put into this masterpiece.  And to her continued disbelief, he was still snipping away and adding touch-ups here and there.”

Ernest sighed wistfully, and continued singing.  “Then you’ll infect me, knowing I’ll infect you, knowing that nothing can make us immune.”

Tearing her eyes off the bush-art, Sunset shook the janitor’s arm.  “Ernest!  Snap out of it!”

The troll fighter blinked at Sunset.  He was about to say something when he looked down at what he was doing.  “Woah!”  exclaimed the custodian.  Ernest looked at the shrub, the sheers, and then at his friend.  “Cupid had his A game on today cause I didn’t see him or his arrow.”  

Sunset laughed.  “I was going to ask if vice-principal Luna had talked to you . . . but I think you’ve already answered my question.”

Ernest stared at the shrub in disbelief.  One of the figures was a very muscular version of himself, and the other was of Luna in a very flattering dress.  “Uh-huh,” Ernest replied slowly.  “We had a nice talk.”  The custodian let Sunset know what he and Luna had discussed.

The teenager beamed proudly.  “Ernest, that’s great.  She’s right.  You are a good counselor.  You gave me the best advice you could have given.  I talked to the girls, and they agreed that I should stay in the play.  But they also had their own suggestions.” 

“What’d they say?” 

“You’ll have to come to the play and find out.  You are still coming, right?”

Ernest bit his lip.  “Yeah, but now I gotta work.  Mr. Doodle found the golf cart and wasn’t happy.  He hasn’t yet come to appreciate creative thinking in the janitorial profession.  Ya know what I mean?  Plus I kind of should of asked first before performing major surgery on school property.”

Sunset frowned.  “Can’t you trade with someone else?”

“Sorry, Sunny, I don’t think I can get out of this one.  Not unless I can be at two places at once.”  Ernest considered something for a moment before asking, “Hey, I don’t suppose you could . . .”

The teenager shook her head.  “I’m not going to clone you, Ernest.  That creates all kinds of problems.”  Then an idea occurred to the former delinquent.  “Hey, what about your monster cart?  You said you know some things about robots.  Can’t you program it to help you out?”

Ernest gave the girl a blank start.  “Now why didn’t I think of that?  I’m sorry, Sunny.  It was wrong of me to ask you to break the laws of nature when I am more than capable of breaking them myself.  Come on, we got a robot to test.”  Ernest paused in mid-jog and looked at the bush one more time. “I’ll dispose of that later.”  And with that, Ernest took off for the garage.

Before following her friend, Sunset took out her cell phone and snapped some photos of Ernest’s work of art.         

> A Tale of Two Willies
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in the passenger seat of the heavily-modified golf vehicle, Sunset watched Ernest peck at the keyboard built into the cart.  The teenager considered herself pretty tech savvy, but she did not comprehend anything the redneck was doing.  It looked like the custodian was just punching in random numbers, letters, and symbols.  The monitor was lit up, and on it was a picture of the “Have a Nice Day” smiley face.  And maybe it was just Sunset’s imagination but it seemed that the more gibberish Ernest punched in, the broader the smile became.  All the while Ernest muttered to himself while he typed.

“Alrighty.  We’re almost there. Carry the ones and zeroes, divide by the hypotenuse of a hippopotamus, multiply by y, m, c, and a.  Annnnd . . ,” Ernest paused and frowned.  He looked over at Sunset and asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

Sunset was caught completely off guard.  “Uh, orange. Why do you ask?”

Ernest nodded.  “Orange is a good color.  Willie will be warm, outgoing, and assertive.  An orange personality will clash well with his green down-to-earth personality I picked out for him.  Best of both worlds, ya know what I mean?”

The teenager frowned.  “Ernest, are you sure it’s a good idea to give your robot a personality based on colors?  Can’t you program Willie based on something more . . . concrete?”

The troll fighter gave Sunny a patronizing look.  “Ah, Sunny, I was like you once; so full of questions, and wet behind the ears.  But trust me.  Old Ernest knows what he’s doing.”

After a few more keystrokes, Ernest cracked his knuckles.  “There.  Willie is ready to go.”  Before hitting the Enter key, he paused.  “We should probably get out of these seats.”  After exiting the vehicle, Ernest leaned forward and pushed the desired key.  

Ernest and Sunset stood back and waited expectantly.  The lanky janitor rubbed his palms together with a big nervous grin on his face, while the teenager considered diving behind the work bench.  But nothing happened.  And as the seconds turned into minutes, nothing continued to happen.  

“Ernest . . .”

“Any second now,” replied the custodian.  But he did not sound confident.  

As time marched on, Ernest thought about what he’d done wrong.  Suddenly he clapped his hands together and shouted, “That’s it!”    

The janitor’s outburst caused Sunset to jump out of her seat.  “What?  What’s it?”

“Willie needs an energy transfer to get goin.’  I can’t believe I forgot that.  I can’t expect him to get started on his own.  He’s just a baby after all.”

Sunset nodded.  “That makes sense actually.  So what do you need, a battery and jumper cables?  

“Naw.  Just hand me that hammer.” 

Sunset did as she was told and handed Ernest a ball-peen hammer.  “What are you going to do?”

Ernest opened the engine compartment.  “Well, it’s a delicate process requiring the precision of a master surgeon combined with the knowhow of a journeyman mechanic.  Observe.”  Without further ado, Ernest licked his hammer as if it was a piece of thread about to be placed through an eye of a needle.  He then began bashing the golf cart’s power supply as hard as he could.  After the fifth blow, the robot began to hum with power. 

Grinning like a mad man, Ernest shut the compartment and stood back with Sunset.  The teenager could not believe what she was seeing.  Before her eyes, the golf cart began to transform.  When the metamorphoses was completed, the robot stood as tall as Ernest.  The machine stumbled forward on legs that ended in wheels.  After nearly falling, the robot righted itself by flailing its hydraulic arms.  Then in a very human gesture, the automaton smacked the monitor which was serving as its head.  It did this a couple more times until the white and grey interference had cleared.  The yellow smiley face image was now fully visible on the monitor and was sporting a newsboy cap.  “Jaysus, it’s aboot bloody time.”  

Despite knowing where the booming electronic voice was coming from, Sunset yelped in surprise.  

Turning to the source of the noise, the golem fixed the teenager with an apologetic look.  The yellow smiley face grinned shyly and said, “Oh, pardon me, lassie.  Me squawk box is on the fritz.  Let’s see if we can do a wee something aboot that.”  The small bulldozer blade embedded in Willie’s chest flipped down and produced the key board.  

Sunset stared at the once quiet golf cart as it ran a self-diagnostic.  In a subdued voice she asked, “Ernest, how in Celestia’s name did you do this without magic?”

As if in an interview, Ernest replied happily, “Well, Sunny, I owe all of my smarts, knowledge, wisdom, and intellect to my good friends Vern, the Tulip brothers, and my third grade teacher who told me I never knew when to quit.  I would like to take this moment to not only thank them but all of the people who helped me along the way.”  The redneck began to point to people only he could see.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, and thank you, Sunset Shimmer.”

“What?  I had nothing to do with . . .”

“Ah, thar’s the little bugger.  I’ll just crank this doon a few disables.” A few moments later Willie said in a much quieter voice.  “Testing, testing.  ‘Step up and play,’ each machine seemed to say as I walked roond and roond penny arcade.  Right, that sounds much better.”

Sunset shook her head in continued disbelief.  She had a million questions going through her head all at once.  And out of all of them she chose to ask, “Why does he talk like that?  Did you give him your Camelot voice?’”

Ernest beamed at the teenager.  “I’m so glad you asked.”  Grabbing a nearby chalkboard, the troll fighter began to draw erratically.  “Here’s what’s goin’ on.  The orange and green personality programs are trying to convert Willie’s posotronic brain accelerator, because once either side takes the accelerator, they’ll spread to the rest of his brain.  The brain is the high ground if you’re a military buff.  To stop the conflict from corrupting his nervous system, Willie activated his flux capacitor and chose aspects from both personality colors, and what you see is what he chose.  Kind of like a psychological ceasefire, ya know what I mean?  And yeah, I might have sneaked my Camelot voice into his programming.”  Ernest was drawing so fast the chalk exploded in his hand.

The redneck winced.  “Oh, I hate that sound.  It kind of reminds me of this.”  Ernest was about to draw his fingernails across the chalkboard when Sunset yelled, “Okay!  Okay!  I get it!  Just please don’t do that.”

At this point Willie made a noise that sounded like he was clearing his throat.  “Oi.  According to me log files, ye want me to pretend to be you for tonight.”

Ernest nodded.  “That’s right, Willie.  Can you handle that?”

The robot scoffed, “Is the Pope Catholic?”  Both Willie and Ernest laughed at the inside joke.  “But we got a wee bit of a problem, boyo.  Won’t Cranky be a mite suspicious if he sees a strong, silver, and handsome devil like meself pushing a mop aroond the academy?  That might raise a few alarm bells, don’t ye think?”

Ernest rubbed his chin in thought. “What if we gave you a costume?  Maybe we could disguise you as a remote controlled trash can.”

Willie was silent for a few seconds as he processed what he just heard.  “If there wasn’t a lady present, I’d tell ye what I really think about that.” 

Before Ernest could make another costume suggestion, Sunset spoke up.  “Maybe I could help disguise you.”

“What’d you have in mind, lassie?”

Sunset grabbed a nearby ruler.  “Just hold still.  It’s been a while since I’ve done this, and it might feel a little weird.”  Swirling the impromptu wand through the air, Sunset gathered magic to the end of the ruler until a turquoise ball of energy had formed.  She then pointed the ruler at the robot, and the turquoise ball leapt forward.  The change was immediate and nearly flawless.

Ernest inspected the teenager’s handy work and said, “Sunny, it’s like looking into a metal mirror.”


A few hours later


An old lady with a walker and neck-brace slowly made her way forward.  She paused to pull her white shawl closer to her body.  While she did so, she noticed the large filled-in hole behind the Canterlot High statue.  She sighed to herself.  “It’s a shame my niece doesn’t get paid for being a delinquent.  She could then afford to move out of my house and pay back all that money she stole from me.  Oh well, ‘the first one hundred years are the hardest,’ my dear mother used to say.  I pray she’s right because the next hundred don’t look promising.”   

The crone tottered onward.  She spied a teenager dressed in a white wig and a grey-powdered school uniform standing by herself.  Sunset Shimmer did not look happy waiting there on her own.  Many of the other students were giving her hostile looks as they filed into the school.  She looked at the faces that streamed by, searching for someone in particular.

“Hello, my dear.  You look about as thrilled as I feel after a visit to the dialysis clinic.”

Sunset turned to see an old lady leaning heavily on a walker.  She frowned, “Hello ma’am.  Uh, can I help you?” 

The elder covered her heart in surprise.  “What’s this, a youth with manners?  I thought your kind died out years ago.  Where’s a reporter when you need one?  This is the find of the decade.  Yes, in fact you can help me.  I’m looking for my niece.  She’s tall, has red and yellow hair for reasons I know not why, dresses like a lady of the evening in the daytime, and has caused more damage to this school then a politician with a good idea.  Her name is Sunset Shimmer.  Have you seen her?”

Sunset stared at the woman for several seconds before it dawned on her.  She smiled and said quietly, “Ernest, your disguise and acting is amazing.  You had me fooled there for a minute. You remind me of my real aunt back in Equestria.  She makes me feel uncomfortable, too.”

Ernest bowed his head.  “Why thank you, my dear.  Your specter costume and makeup is well-crafted also.  It reminds me of my dead son, Hymie.  That is the exact same shade of grey his face was before they nailed shut his coffin lid.”

“You can drop the a--,” the teenager caught herself.  “Never mind.  For tonight you’re my aunt.  Mr. Cranky is here, and if he finds out you’re at the festival, you could get fired.  Where’s Willie?”

“Ah yes, my build-a-son.  Your cousin promised me that he would clean the academy from top to bottom and be as quiet as a church mouse taking a vow of silence.  We’ll have to see about that.  The last time I trusted a machine with this much responsibility was my toaster back in 1959.  That trust was misplaced apparently.  One minute I am having breakfast, and the next I’m watching everything I own go up in flames.”  

Sunset straightened her ghost-gray school uniform.  “I’m sure he’ll do a good job.”  The troubled teen sighed and smiled at her friend.  “Well, I’d better find the girls and get ready.  I’m glad you’re here, Aunt  . . . uh . . .”

“Auntie Nelda, my dear.”  Dropping the act for a brief moment, Ernest placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder and whispered, “No matter what happens tonight, you’ll still have me in your corner.  Go get em, Sunny.  I’m proud of ya.”

Without warning, Sunset hugged the disguised redneck right there in front of everyone.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



Earlier


“Rabuf.  Brother.  I am going to ask you to do a very hard thing.  Maybe the hardest thing you’re ever going to do in your life.  But the future of our race is now in your hands.  I need you to concentrate and pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you.”  The younger troll had listened and did not like what he was about to do.  He sighed to himself, put his hands behind his back, and as nonchalantly as possible began whistling when he entered the rear of Mr. Rich’s booth.    

The troll could hear his employer’s loud voice over the crowd of doll buyers.  “Now don’t go away, folks. The figurine-maker will be back any minute now.  Uh, can I interest any of you in zap apple jam, or some candy bits, or . . .?”  The pony’s ears perked up when he heard the loud creak of the back door opening.  “Just a second friends.  I’ll be right back. I think the goose that lays the wooden dolls is back.”  This announcement prompted a loud cheer from the festival goers.  

Disappearing from behind the counter, Filthy confronted his M.I.A employee.  “Where the hay have you been?  I got customers lining up from Mane Street to Stable Blvd to buy our dolls and you disappear on me.  I’ve fired ponies for taking half the break you took.”

Rabuf shrugged.  “Sorry about that, boss-oposs.  My bro caught up to me, and we talked about some pretty deep-heavy stuff.  I mean this is the kind of stuff you’d think about when you’re bench pressing a tombstone with your name on it at the bottom of a well filled with honey.”    

The pony blinked.  “What in Celestia’s name are you babbling about?  Just make some more bucking dolls.  Okay?” 

The troll nodded.  “Yeah, we talked about that, too.  How many dolls we have left?”

“None.  We’ve sold out.  We got three foal-sized dolls on layaway underneath the counter, but they’ve already been spoken for.”

Rabuf scratched at his belly and looked at the Colt.  “Boss, you’re the best opossum I’ve ever known.  I’ll name a troll after ya.”

Before the pony knew what was happening, he was a small doll in the troll’s hand.  Pocketing his new acquisition, Rabuf pulled back the curtain that separated the two rooms.  He was greeted by a cheering mass of ponies.  The troll smiled back nervously as he addressed the crowd.  “Hi, poynays.  This is some night we’re having, huh?”

A unicorn shouldered her way through the crowd.  “Please!  Has anypony seen my son?  I haven’t seen him since I bought this doll.”

Rabuf gulped.  While maintaining eye contact with the crowd, he desperately searched underneath the counter for the three wooden foals.  “Uh, have you checked the local opossum bone yard?  He might be there.”  

“I haven’t seen my grandparents either.  But these dolls look just like them.  What’s going on?”  Another pony yelled.

The ponies that had been cheering moments before started to talk amongst themselves.  

“Didn’t Lyra say something about this guy being a magic troll?” asked a pegasus.

“Yeah, I heard that too.  She said he was turning ponies into dolls,” answered an earth pony.  

At this point Rabuf’s hands pulled out a paper Nightmare Night candy bag that had the three small figures.  And he was none too soon.  The troll did not like the looks some of the equines in the crowd were giving him.  He was about to try and calm the crowd down again when he saw a familiar-looking mint-green unicorn.  The unicorn was sporting a twill cap and a denim vest.  She was shouting at a large minotaur.  “That’s him.  That’s the troll who’s been turning everypony into dolls!  Get him!” 

Grasping the Filthy Rich figure in his pocket, Rotnart tossed the doll into the crowd.  “Here.  Someone can have my boss!”  

The ponies that had been waiting in line to buy a doll for what seemed like ages, leapt at the troll’s charity.  Dozens of ponies pounced on the filthy rich figurine, getting in the way of those that had growing suspicions about the doll maker.  Lyra yelled in frustration when she finally reached Filthy’s stand.  “He got away!”  

“That was the dude?”  asked Vinyl Scratch.  “Jeez, his costume looked just as real as that Ernest guy’s.”

Before Lyra could scream at the D.J. that both the human and the troll were real, the turn-table wizard had an idea.  “Hey, Willey, can you throw me up in the air so I can get a picture of where this dude is heading?”

Iron Will looked at his employer strangely and shrugged.  “If you want to be tossed, you’re the boss.”  With one great heave, the white unicorn shot straight up into the air.  Lyra was impressed.  It took a long time for Vinyl to come back to earth, but when she did, she was ecstatic.

“Holy Celestia. That was a blast.  You should have seen the faces of the weather pegasi when they saw me up there.  I’d pay ya just to throw me up in the air.”

“Did you see him?” asked Lyra.  

“Yeah . . . I think.  I saw a guy on two legs heading towards the Everfree, and he was bookin’ it.  There’s also something else goin’ down on the other side of town.  I’m pretty sure I saw the princess, Twilight Sparkle, and Twilight’s buds having a throw-down with another two-legged dude.  The ponies are kind of freaking out over there.”  

Lyra’s heart sank.  “If Twilight Sparkle and her friends are over there, they should have everything under control.  We got to stop that troll from reaching his tree.”

“His what?  Is he crazy or something?” asked the D.J.

“Come on.  I’ll explain on the way.”


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



The Present


“Troll?  Troll, can you hear me?”  The feminine voice that asked that question sounded very tired and worried.

Slowly, the king regained wakefulness and immediately wished he was never born.  It felt like his body had been put through the business end of a garbage truck.  “Am I dead?  If not, could you kill me, please?”  

“I’m sure we can manage something,” replied an angry child’s voice.

“Calm down, Spike,” said the female in a whisper.  

The troll would have smirked if he knew his face wouldn’t rip in two if he tried.  At least his ears were still working.  He tried to open his eyes but couldn’t.  Panicking, the troll yelled, “I can’t see!  Oh cruel and merciless Trantor, I’m blind!  Just end me now!”  

“That salve is from the nectar of the bees.  It heals and makes it so you cannot see.  Give me a moment or two or three, and I will set your beady eyes free.”

He could feel something sticky being rubbed out of his eyes with a cloth.  He blinked.  The light was by no means bright, but it stung.  Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the light.  The troll looked from face to face.  He was surrounded by an alicorn, a zebra, and a little dragon holding a pretty unicorn doll.  “Well, let’s cut to the chase.  What do you want?”    

“Please.”

Rotnart looked at the haggard alicorn.    

“Change my friends and all those you’ve turned into dolls back to the way they were.” 

The troll frowned and said mockingly, “Ahhh, that’s so sad.  If I actually gave a $&it, I’d probably try and do something.  But, I don’t, so you’re screwed.”

“Really?  In that case, I say we grab a funnel and see how much milk you can drink before you explode,” suggested the dragon.

When this was mentioned, the troll took a good look at what was keeping him from leaving.  Instead of ropes and chains, he saw a forest of needles stuck in what seemed like every inch of his salve covered body.   

“Hold on, Spike.  I have a better idea.”  Without another word, the princess gathered magic to the end of her horn.  Moments later, she let loose the gathered energy in the form of a light-purple mist that surrounded the room.

“What was that?” asked the dragon.

The pony turned to her friend and winked.  She faced the troll and asked, “What’s your name?”

“I am Rotnart.  I am the King of the future troll nation and spawn of Trantor Double-Nose.”  When he was done speaking the troll gaped at the pony.  He could not believe he had just said all that.

“Trantor?”  Twilight frowned, but then her eyes lit up upon remembering where she heard that name.  “You’re the son of the troll from Ernest’s world, aren’t you?”

The pin-cushioned troll didn’t answer.  

In his peripheral vision, he saw the zebra mixing up a concoction.  Then to the troll’s horror, the brew-mistress poured an entire carton of milk into her caldron.  She tasted it and smiled.  “Ah, is our guest taking a break?  Well, I guess it’s time for a milkshake.”  Using a dipper she scooped up some of the white substance into a glass and made her way to the bound troll.  

Despite not being able to move, Rotnart felt cold sweat roll down his face and back.  It was easier to be brave when you knew you had a ghost-alicorn funneling you dark magic to make ya milk proof.  Unfortunately, the Pony of Shadows was no longer providing that kind of support.   Before the zebra could pour any of the liquid into his mouth, he screamed.  “Okay! Okay damn it! I’ll play ball!  Yes, I’m from that cursed Worrell’s world!  Just don’t make me drink that!”

When she heard this, Zecora nearly dropped the vial, causing the troll to cry out in terror.  Recovering, the brew-mistress looked at Twilight gravely.  “We must contact the human Ernest, before our world is cast into the furnace.”

The troll laughed.  “Ernest P. Worrell is dead, you stupid cow.  He was eaten by a bear almost a week ago.”

Ignoring Rotnart, Twilight looked at Zecora’s terrified face.  What little control and calm the alicorn possessed was being shaken.  She had never seen her cool and collected friend this worked up before. “Why, what’s wrong?  Ernest is back home in Canterlot High.”

Zecora swallowed and drew a calming breath.  “Years before the human was here, I received a vision most clear.  The spirits of zebras past came to me during a fast.  They said three would come from the land of misery, but now I know what they really said was Missouri.  They will come through a magic door breaching the dimensional floor.  One will walk on four legs and the other two, and the last is from the crystal north and evil through and through.  A tree he will take and make his throne, and once he does, he will no longer be alone.  There is only one that can stop the fallen one, from the town of Briars he will come.”   

Twilight’s mouth went dry as she quickly put two and two together.  “Sombra’s last surviving troll.  He’s back . . . or at least his descendant is.  And Ernest is the only one that can stop him.”  The pony nodded.  “He’s done it before, he can do it again.”

Spike gulped and clung to the rarity doll.  “But, we’ve got nothing to worry about now, right?  I mean we got him.  There isn’t another troll out there, is there?”

Twilight looked at her prisoner.  “Well?  Are you the last troll?  Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Rotnart glanced up at the zebra.  She was still clutching her homemade treat above his head.  “Yeah, I have one brother,” growled the troll.

The alicorn bit her lip and fought down a fresh wave of panic.  “How many dolls does he have?”

“I don’t know.”

Zecora menacingly lowered her hooves and started to tip the cup.  

“Trantor, damn it!  I don’t know!  I swear!  He was the one selling the dolls back to you ponies.  I don’t know how many he has!  He’s #$&*ing nuts!  For all I know he could be having a tea party with the Pony of Shadows in the Ev--"

“Say another word and you’re dead!” A menacing voice bellowed inside the troll’s head.  Rotnart closed his mouth so fast that he could feel his teeth rattle.  

The zebra frowned.  “It would be a shame if this glass were to spill, and spread all over your nasty grill.”  Zecora tipped the glass until the liquid was on the verge of streaming from the container, and then she tipped it a little more until a single drop had fallen.    

Time seemed to slow down.  The troll could feel the words slipping from his mouth almost on their own accord.  He didn’t know if it was the spell pulling the syllables from his throat or the threat of impending death from the milk.  But whatever the reason, he could not take the words back after he spoke them.  “Everfree Forest!”

The drop landed on Rotnart’s face.  The troll screamed in terror for several seconds, but nothing happened.  He would have breathed a sigh of relief until he heard the Pony of Shadows say, “I warned you.”

To Twilight and her friends, it was like someone had thrown a switch on the troll.  One moment he was awake and screaming his lungs out, the next he was staring up at the ceiling with his eyes and mouth wide open, as stiff as a board.  

The alicorn’s eyes widened.  “Zecora, you didn’t . . .”

“Twilight you have my word tried and true that I did not put milk in this brew.  What happened now I don’t understand, but it was not part of the plan.  What I poured from the carton was not milk at all, but something I whipped together last fall.”  

Spike waved a clawed hand in front of the troll’s face.  “Is he dead?”  

Using her magic, the alicorn did her best to diagnose the catatonic troll.  “I have no idea.  I’m not familiar with troll anatomy.  He doesn’t have a heartbeat . . . but I think he’s still alive.  For a moment I sensed a dark presence from within him, and then it was gone.”

“Rotnart spoke of the Pony of Shadows; could he have ventured into her dark meadows?” Zecrora wondered out loud.

Twilight shook her head in bewilderment.  “I don’t know.  What we do know is there is one more troll still out there.  And if he’s turned five foals into dolls and has corrupted a tree, we are in deep trouble.”

“So what do we do?” asked Spike.

“We have to find this troll.  Spike, round up every pegasai you can and have them fly over the Everfree Forest.  Get the lunar guards to help you.  We need to tell them to look for a troll that looks like him,” Twilight said pointing to Rotnart. “And tell them to check to see if any of the trees are sprouting pods . . . or bustle sprouts as Ernest would call them.”

The little dragon nodded hesitantly.  “Okay, but that’s a tall order.  The Everfree Forest is huge.  And they’ll be flying in the dark.”

“I know Spike, but it has to be done.  Tell the earth ponies and unicorns to help on the ground, too.  Maybe we’ll get lucky, and they’ll stumble upon the troll’s hideout.  Tell everypony to travel in groups and to be careful.  These trolls are dangerous.”

“Okay.  Should I send a letter to the Crystal Empire and tell them what’s going on so they can get Ernest out of Canterlot High?”

Before Twilight could agree, Zecora cleared her throat.  “There is no need for that my dragon friend, because Ernest will be here by hour’s end.”

Twilight frowned.  “How?  He could be anywhere over there.”

Zecora took a breath.  “Let me worry about that detail, but I will need your help, or this plan will fail.”

The alicorn nodded.  “What can I do?”

The zebra’s voice started to quake.  “From you I will need your magic and a mirror to see, you will be my anchor tethered to me.”

Sensing the tremors in her friend’s voice, Spike asked, “What’s wrong, Zecora?”

Smiling nervously she replied, “Nothing is wrong particularly, but what I’m about to do is scary to me.”


Back at Canterlot High


“Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling, from glen to glen, and down the mountain side.” Mop in hand Willie sang one of his favorite songs.  He wasn’t afraid of someone coming to where he was working.  Everyone was on the other end of the school having a good time.  It was just him, his mop, and his bucket.  Sure he was a robot and could get his work done in a fraction of the time it would take his creator, but he liked how his voice resonated down the halls.  

“The Summer’s gone, and all the flowers are dying ‘tis you, ‘tis you must go and I must bide.”  The space he was currently cleaning was the music room.  While singing, he pushed his mop around the desks and chairs until something tripped his ocular sensors.  He looked over at the mirror that had been epoxyied on the wall right next to the large dry erase board.  Willie could have sworn he’d saw a purplish light emanating from the looking glass.  Seeing nothing, he kept on mopping.  

“But come ye back when summer’s in the meadow or when all the valley’s hushed and white with sn--.”  There it was again.  Except this time the light was brighter, and a large crack had formed in the mirror’s surface.  The robot raised an eyebrow that didn’t really exist on his face.  This was the first time he was seeing himself in the form of his creator.  He looked just like his father except dipped in iron grey paint.  He had to admit, the lass with the red hair had done wonders with her magic.  He admired himself for a few more moments before turning his attention back to the fissure in the mirror.  Willie frowned.  His heat indicators on his hydraulic arms registered a spike in temperature that was quickly fading.  The robot processed this for a minute before withdrawing his hands.  He cleared his throat and increased the volume. 

“ ’Tis I’ll be here in sunshine or in shadow!”   The result was immediate and impressive.  The mirror imploded to reveal a vortex of swirling violet energy.  Overwhelmed by what he was seeing, the robot kept singing. 

“Oh Danny boy, Oh Danny boy, I love you so!”  It was at this point the surprised robot saw a pair of black and white fured hooves reach forth from the mirror and pull him into the unknown.     
> The Eternal Student
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra tried to slow her breathing.  She could feel cold sweat running down her denim-covered back.  She, Vinyl Scratch, and Iron Will were surrounded by nothing but dark trees and darker bushes. Her heart skipped a beat when an owl screeched a warning and flew off his high, oaken branch.  The unicorn let out her breath.  Chasing down a troll at night in the Everfree Forest was probably not the smartest thing she and her friends could be doing.  

The D.J. asked, “So let me get this straight.  This dude that we’re chasing has a tree that he’s turned evil and is powered by little kids he turned into dolls?”

“Yes . . . kind of,” answered Lyra.  “The corrupted tree needs the wooden dolls to create pods.  When these pods hit the ground, they turn into trolls.”  Explaining this helped calm the mare.  “He needs just five dolls to create his army.  During the Crystal Heart Wars, Sombra corrupted the forests for miles around the Crystal Empire.  He kidnapped thousands of foals from the towns surrounding the Empire to create his army.  He . . .”

“When somepony corrupts, I erupt!”  Iron Will declared, holding up his full gallon milk jug.  “Only a coward hides from his just deserts.  But to be fair, if milk was my weakness, I’d be hiding too.”

Lyra gave the minotaur an annoyed look.  “Don’t underestimate this troll.  We’ve got to find this creature and fast, or the milk might not be enough to stop it.” 

“Hello, is someopos--- er somepony there?”

The group froze.  The voice sounded very close.  

“Octavia?  Tavi, is that you?  What are you doing out here?” asked the D.J.

“I . . .,” Octavia’s strained voice paused.  “I was looking for you.  I saw you run into the forest after that handsomely brave troll, and I lost my way.”  

Lyra’s eyes narrowed.  Something wasn’t right.  

“It’s okay, Tavi.  We’re here now,” declared Vinyl.

“I think I twisted my paw-hoof thing.  Can you come here and help me back to town?” 

“I’m coming.”  Before the D.J. could take a step to aid her friend, Lyra blocked her path.  “Vinyl, I don’t think that’s Octavia.”

The white unicorn took off her glasses and glared at the denim-covered pony.  “What are you talking about?  My best friend is hurt.  Get out of my way.”

“Listen to me!” shouted Lyra.  “The troll we’re chasing is a master of manipulation.  This thing can throw its voice and change it to sound like one of his victims.  Isn’t it a little weird that Octavia is talking strangely right now?  This feels like a trap.”

Slowly, Iron Will unscrewed the plastic lid on his gallon of milk. “But if somepony is in trouble, we can’t stay in our bubble.”     

Doubt flickered in the D.J.’s desperate eyes.  She looked at Lyra and then to the area behind the mint-colored unicorn where her friend’s voice had come from.    Vinyl had just opened her mouth to speak when a disturbing voice said, “Well hello, opossum.  Want to see a magic trick?”

“Ye--- I mean No!  Nooooo!” screamed Octavia.  

Lyra couldn’t help it.  She whirled around at hearing the troll’s voice.  This was all the opening the D.J. needed as she bolted around the other unicorn, Iron Will hot on her hooves. 

“Wait!  Come back!” yelled Lyra.  She galloped after her friends, but to her surprise, her legs didn’t work.  She looked down at them, and to her horror, she found that they were being turned to wood.  She gathered air into her lungs to scream a warning but a huge hand covered her muzzle.  The last thing the pony heard was the troll whispering in her ear.  “It’s okay, it’s okay.  The magic trick isn’t anything special.  You’ve seen it before.  You’re not missing a thing.”

The pony struggled for only a few seconds before she was turned into a wooden miniature.  

Rabuf pocketed his latest acquisition and silently made his way towards his other pursuers.  He knelt down behind a rotten stump and listened.

“Tavi?  Octavia, where are you!?”  yelled the white possum.  “Willy, do you see her?”  

The troll watched the huge jackalope known as Willy shake its head.  It pushed through several bushes and looked behind all the trees the white opossum illuminated.  Willy snarled in frustration until he saw the small wooden doll Rabuf had left behind a tiny sapling.  “Oh no,” the jackalope said quietly.    

“What?  Did you find her?”  asked the opossum.

Willy swallowed.  “Yeah, I found her.” 

The troll grinned to himself.  He must have done a really good job with that particular specimen.  The white opossum was weeping in awe of his craftsmanship while the jackalope couldn’t take his eyes off it.  Rabuf would have gone up and autographed the figurine for his fans, but Rotnart told him to make for the special tree and to turn anypony that followed too closely into dolls.  The troll scratched his head at this conundrum.  The things that were following him were now in front of him.  “So are they still chasing me, or am I now chasing them?”  Rabuf asked himself out loud.  

Unaware of what he was doing, Rabuf had stood up to ponder this confusing question.  He puzzled over this perplexing situation until something large and white flew by his nose, mere centimeters from his face.  

“Argh, Celestia, damn it, Iron Will.  How did you miss?  He’s literally only like twenty feet away.”

The troll blinked and looked over at the two natives.  The jackalope’s features trembled with anger and frustration.  “If this were a game, I will admit it would be less of a shame.”

Rabuf shook his head.  “Hey, don’t beat yourself up.  That was a pretty good throw for a jackalope of your size.  By the way, who were you throwing the milk at?”

The veins in the minotaur’s head began to throb.  “How dare you mock you me.  I’m going to stomp you so far into the ground you’ll end up in Yakyakistan.”

“Where’s Lyra, creep?” asked Vinyl Scratch. 

From the troll’s pocket, Rabuf produced the Lyra doll.  He looked carefully at the small statue and said, “Yeah, I think she’s too old for the lucky special tree-thing.  I’ll make a deal with you two.  You stop following me and you can have this pristine figurine for free.  I’ll even sign this master piece.  What do ya say?”  

Vinyl blinked, ‘”Lucky, special, tree?’  Are you talking about the Tree of Harmony?”

Troll shrugged, “Yeah, it’s that big, shiny, tall, bright, wood-thing I’m supposed to do something with, planted in a hole infront of this other castley thingy.  Hey, have you guys heard of the opossum of shad---“

Iron Will’s nostrils flared.  He let out a wordless cry as he charged the troll.

“Willy, Stop!  We gotta get help!”  Vinyl cried, but the minotaur ignored her.   

Rabuf looked at the jackalope curiously but did not move an inch from where he was standing.  Iron Will aimed a blow at the troll’s chest with one massive fist.  Casually, the troll raised his hand and caught the punch.  

Iron Will was stunned as his momentum was completely halted with so little effort.  The minotaur had time to blink before he was turned to wood.  The statue fell to the forest floor with a soft thud when it hit the cold grass.  

Rabuf looked at the last opossum.  The thing’s horn was glowing bright blue as it gathered magic for an attack.  But despite this power she was collecting, she looked very unsure and very scared.  

Casually the troll reached down and picked up the Willey doll.  He slowly walked up to the trembling opossum.  “What were we talking about?  Eh, must not have been important.  Are you still going to follow me?  We can still make that deal.”

The unicorn waited until he was but a couple of feet away from her before she blasted him in the face.  Vinyl turned and fled at a full gallop away from the troll.  She had to get away. Get away and tell Twilight Sparkle about the Tree of Harmony.   

She ran and ran for what seemed like hours until she took cover behind a rosebush to catch her breath.  Vinyl was about to take off again when she felt a hand on her shoulder.  “You forgot your autographed doll.”

The pony’s scream was cut short when her vocal chords turned to lumber.   


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Sunset Shimmer took a deep breath and readied herself.  She counted down in her head “three, two, one.”  She stepped out onto the stage, the spotlight picking her out instantly.  As quietly as a mouse she walked over to a nearby desk and sat.  She looked down to find a notebook along with a pencil waiting to be used.   After a few moments of scribbling, she heard one of her fellow actors come on stage.

“I’ll be right with you guys.  I left my notes at my desk.”

Sunset didn’t stop writing when Rainbow Dash announced her presence.  

“Oh, My, Gosh.  You’re here,” R.D. said slowly.  The teenager sat down next to the ghost and watched her write.

Sunset had to give Rainbow Dash credit.  Her performance had improved dramatically.  The athlete had to be careful not to look at Sunset’s face and just focus on the pencil.  This was a play after all and the students could not see the eternal student, just the things the ghost interacted with.

Rainbow leaned over and looked at what the ghost was writing.  “True happiness does not come from a trophy or a grade, it doesn’t come from the place where memories fade.  It comes from your heart where real choices are made.  Treasure your loved ones for forever and a day, and don’t do as I have or forever you will pay.”

From the corner of her eye, Sunset could see her friend decked out in a school uniform complete with a white and blue skirt and varsity soccer team captain’s jacket.  They had deviated so far from the original play at this point that she was sure the drama teacher would have words with them all.  The Eternal Student was not a happy play.  The ghost was a spirit that forever haunted the school, scaring the students back on the straight and narrow path.  But in this rendition of the play, she and her friends had decided the ghost would use a gentler touch. 

“Uh, Capt?  What’s taking so long?” asked Apple Jack.  The girl poked her head onto the set and slowly made her way onto the stage.  

Sunset stopped writing. 

Rainbow looked up at her best goal keeper with a shocked expression.  She was about to tell her that she had seen the ghost but thought better of it.  As the team captain, she had an image to protect.  

“I’ve been thinking.  Maybe we should let Shutterfly off with just a warning for missing those practices.” 

A.J. frowned.  “Why?  Everyone on our team needs to pull their weight.  If she can’t make it to our practices, then why is she even on the bench?  I think you had it right the first time.  The team will be a lot better off without her.  

R.D. looked down at what the ghost had written and sighed.  “That’s what I thought at first.  But it’s not her fault that her grandma is sick.”  

Apple Jack folded her arms over her chest. “Tough, that’s her problem.  What’s gotten into you, Capt?  You didn’t hesitate in getting rid of Gooseberry Pie and Sparity when they couldn’t perform.  We are the best of the best, and we didn’t get here by pussy footing around.  We got a game one week from now.  What are you going to do if Shutterfly doesn’t show up to that?”  

Rainbow Dash didn’t speak at first.  She was silent until the Eternal Student placed a ghostly hand on the gang leader’s shoulder.  The team leader sighed.  “I’ve been too hard on the team lately.  I shouldn’t have cut Gooseberry when she got food poisoning or Sparity when she was out for two weeks getting her wisdom teeth removed.”  R.D. looked Applejack in the eye and said, “And I’ve been too hard on you.  You’re my best friend, and I’ve done nothing but push you and the rest of the team harder and harder. And for what?   A stupid trophy?  A useless title?  Our friendship and lives are in tatters, our grades are slipping, we’re not getting near enough sleep, and our parents do nothing but worry about us.  Maybe that’s what put Shutterfly’s Grandma in the hospital.”     

A.J. blinked.  She had not been expecting this from her team captain.  She thought about what R.D. had said for a moment before saying, “Mom and Dad have been a mite fussy about my well being for a while now.”  She then yawned.  “Maybe we have been taking ourselves a bit too seriously lately.”  

The captain nodded.  “Mine too.  If we don’t change, then there won’t be a varsity soccer team in a couple of months.”  Rainbow gathered up her notebook and pencil and headed for the door.  “Tell coach that I’m cancelling after-school practice for today.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m putting the band back together, starting with Gooseberry Pie and Sparity.  And then I’m going to the hospital.  Shutterfly could use a friend about now.”

Apple Jack didn’t hesitate.  “Hold on a sec.  I’m coming with ya.”  

After the goalie had followed R.D off stage, Sunset Shimmer looked at the audience and winked.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Auntie Nelda slowly rose from her seat.  Her soft applause was drowned out by the loud clapping of the rest of the audience as the curtain lowered for intermission.  “Bravo, bravo, well done.”  The old woman smiled at Sunset Shimmer and gave her the thumbs up sign.  The teenager picked out the crone in the crowd and returned the smile.

The old woman felt a firm hand tap her on the shoulder.  She looked to her side to see Granny Smith applauding along with her.  “Which one is yours?”  the lunch lady asked, nodding towards the stage.  

Ernest blinked in confusion but rallied quickly.  “The thespian playing the Eternal Student is my niece.  I must say theatre has changed since my day.  We didn’t have these fancy cosmetics to make us look dead.  If we needed a corpse, we borrowed one from the local funeral home.  The rent was reasonable back then, a quarter for every half hour.  I don’t know what the rate is now, probably at least twice that.”

Granny Smith stared at the lady for several moments with her mouth open, and then she began to laugh and laugh hard.  “Oh my, for a while there I thought you were serious.  The name’s Granny Smith.”  The elder paused.  “Have we met before?  I feel like I know you from somewhere.” 

Aunty Nelda smiled.  “Would you believe me if I said we have met before in the elevator of a hospital?  I had just come out of surgery and you had just escaped from your room.   

Granny blinked.  “Is that right?  That does sound like me.  Well, it’s good to me you again, . . . uh . . . .”  

“Auntie Nelda, my dear Granny.  Now which one of those young minds full of mush up there do you claim as your own?”

“The one in the Stetson; her name is Apple Jack.  She’s a mite stubborn at times, but I can’t ask for a sweeter apple.  Speaking of which, you must be proud of Sunset.  I haven’t seen anyone change so much in so little time.  Hanging around with my granddaughter and her friends sure helped.  But if you ask me, I think it has a lot to do with our new custodian.  Those two have been as thick as thieves when he first showed up.”

“A janitor?”  The disguised Ernest leaned in close and muttered quietly, “A plunger jokey has been fraternizing with my niece on a daily basis?  This is most irregular.”  

“I felt the same way when he first showed up.  But the man kind of grows on ya, and he’s really good with the kids.  Rumor has it he’ll be taking the assistant counselor’s position here in a spell.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” said a masculine voice.    

Ernest nearly jumped out of his disguise.  Standing right next to his chair was Cranky Doodle.

Covering her thundering heart Auntie Nelda declared, “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to sneak up on your elders when they are having a private conversation?” 

Cranky’s cheeks reddened.  He straightened his suit and mumbled, “My apologies, ma’am.”

“That’s quite all right, young man.  And who might you be?”

“My name is Cranky Doodle, chief plunger jokey here at Canterlot High.”

Auntie Nelda let out a dry cackle and said to Granny Smith, “And they say men aren’t good listeners.”  She turned back to the uncomfortable custodian and offered her hand to be kissed.  “My name is Auntie Nelda, dear.  But I’m assuming you already know that since you have such lovely and functional ears.”

Cranky eyed the outstretched hand with reservation.  He was also very much aware that he was being watched on all sides by students, parents, and faculty.  Fighting back a cringe, the janitor lightly kissed the hand of the disguised Ernest P. Worrell.     

Granny Smith grinned like a jack-o-lantern, but held her tongue.    

Auntie Nelda gestured to the empty seat by her side.  “Sit down, lad.  Tell me more about this Ernest fellow.  What kind of influence is he having on my niece?”  

The man’s hand clenched at the mention of his subordinate’s name.  “I’ll try and put this as nicely as I can.  The man is an incompetent buffoon and probably insane.  I’ve caught him talking to himself in different voices every day.  It’s like he’s twelve different people in one body.  On top of that, he is a danger to himself.  A couple of days ago I sent him out to mow the front lawn.  He comes back an hour later with his clothes shredded but not a scratch on him.  Somehow he managed to run himself over with a little push-mower.  I found chunks of his clothes clogging the mower blades.  If it were up to me, the man would have been fired on day one.”

“Now hold on just a minute,” Granny Smith piped up.  “Ernest might be stranger then wheels on a pogo stick, but he’s got a heart of gold and a work ethic second to none.  When Golden Delicious broke her hip a few days ago, it was Ernest who took over for her when no one else volunteered.  If it hadn’t been for him, everybody would have been on half food rations that day, because I don’t get paid enough to pull double duty on lunch.”  The elder eyed the chief janitor.  “You’re not going to run this boy off like you did the others, Cranky.  I expect good things from Ernest P. Worrell.”      

Ernest tried to keep his face neutral during this back and forth, but his chest swelled with pride from what Granny had said.  “Hmmm, it sounds like this Ernest fellow isn’t all bad.  I’d like to meet this unorthodox specimen someday.” 

Cranky snorted.  “That can be arranged.  He’s pulling a double graveyard shift tonight.  You want me to get him?”

“No, thank you.  I like a man who works while everyone else is having fun.  It’s people like him that keep this globe we are saddled to spinning.”

“Preach it, sister,” agreed Granny.  

The janitor rolled his eyes and was about to comment, but he paused.  “Do you ladies hear that?”

“Here what, dear?” asked Aunty Nelda.  

The three listened for a moment.  Above the loud din of the audience a feminine voice was frantically yelling, “Ernest!  Ernest!  Excuse me, sir.   Have you’ve seen Ernest P. Worrell?”

“That,” said the custodian, nodding in the direction the woman was yelling.

Auntie Nelda began to sweat in spite of the air conditioning.  “Hmmm, I don’t hear anything.  You must be mistaken.”

“No, I hear it too,” said Granny. 

A masculine voice joined the woman’s.  “Ernest!  Ernest where are you?  We got a big troll problem!”  

The disguised redneck heard that loud and clear.  “Troll problem?” he said to himself.  

Cranky stood up from his folding chair.  He frowned.  “Huh, this is strange.  What’s Dean Cadence doing here?  Did Principal Celestia invite her?”

Granny slowly got up from her seat too.  “Danged if I know.  Are you sure that golf cart Ernest found wasn’t from Crystal Prep?  That’s the only thing I can think of.”

The janitor shrugged.  “Well, either way, I better go find him before the higher-ups have a conniption.”

“That won’t be necessary, sir.  He’s closer than you think,” said Auntie Nelda. 

Cranky frowned.  “How do you know, ma’am?  You don’t know him.”

Auntie Nelda smiled as she used her walker for support to stand up. “Unfortunately, I know him better than most.”

It took Ernest less than twenty seconds to tear off his Auntie Nelda disguise and dawn his signature cap.  All the while Cranky, Granny Smith, and anyone who was looking in his direction gaped as the old woman transformed into a tall, lanky man. 

The chief custodian was the first to recover.  No one likes being taken for an idiot, but Ernest in his disguise had fooled him utterly and on top of that, he had kissed his hand.  When that particular revelation sank in, Cranky screamed at the top of his lungs, “Worrell, you’re fired!”

Ernest flinched, “But boss, someone needs help, and I . . .”

Cranky cut him off still shouting at full volume.  “I don’t want to hear it!  You’re fired, you’re done!  Pack your stuff and get out now before I . . .”

“Hey!”  

All eyes turned back to the stage.  Sunset Shimmer stood there glaring at Cranky, her blazing red and yellow hair clashing with her ghostly costume.  In her hands she gripped a wet towel that she had been using to wipe off her makeup.  “If you’re going to punish someone, punish me.  I asked Ernest to be here.”  The teenager jumped down from the stage and purposefully walked over to stand by Ernest.  All the while, the two voices continued to call for Ernest’s help.      

Cranky shook his head.  “I don’t care.  I told him to clean the school, and he’s here instead disguised as an old hag.  This is unacceptable.  If he can’t follow orders, he has no place here.”

“Are you serious?”  shouted Sunset.  “I’ve been a terrible bully for years.  I’ve nearly destroyed this school, and on top of all that, I’ve turned everyone into zombies.  But in spite of all of that, for some reason this school has kept me around and given me a second chance.  Sunset began to tremble with rage, not at Cranky but at herself.  “This is my fault, and I am sorry.  But I wanted him to be here to cheer me on because he’s one of my best friends.  It was Ernest P. Worrell who picked me up when I was down and showed me how to be a better person.  Ernest is the sweetest, kindest person to ever walk the halls of Canterlot High, and all I am asking is for you to let us have this one night and then I’ll take whatever penalty you dish out.”

The janitor didn’t hesitate.  “My decision is final, but don’t worry, Shimmer.  You’ll still get your punishment.”

In response, Sunset threw down the wet cloth in front of the custodian’s feet.  “Let me save you the trouble.  I’m done with this school.  If there’s no room for Ernest, then there’s no room for me.  Come on Ernest, someone needs our help, and by Celestia, tonight we’re going to help them.”            

“But Sunny, you can’t . . .” Ernest started to say but Sunset was already moving.  The crowd of students parted before her.  The redneck followed in her wake through the awe-struck crowd.  All the while he heard nothing but whispered compliments about Sunset and how she had stood up to Cranky to defend the weird, cross-dressing janitor.

By the time Ernest caught up to Sunset, they were both standing before two seated strangers that were flanked by Principal Celestia and Vice-Principal Luna.  The seated woman noticed Ernest and tried to stand up.  “Ernest, thank goodness you’re still here.  We need you back in Equestria.”

The redneck blinked.  “I’m sorry, ma’am, do I know you?  I’m usually good with faces, but I’m kind of having a bad day.”

“Ernest, this is Dean Cadence with her escort, Shining Armor.  They are both from the Crystal Prep School.”

The custodian frowned in thought.  “Hmmm, I did know a Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor from Camelot.  They were some good people.”  

Sunset Shimmer looked closely at the two seated humans.  Her eyes widened as she declared, “They’re from the other side of the portal.  This is Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor.”

Ernest gave Sunset a strange look.  “Now Sunny, I know we’ve both had a long night and I’m tired too, but I’m pretty sure that if we offered these two lovely people some hay, they’d probably wouldn’t eat it.  Know what I mean?”

Slowly, with Vice-Pricipal Luna’s help Cadence stood on her shaking feet.  “Blacksmith, Blacksmith, near the gorge, make me a horseshoe with your forge.   Stretch it, beat it, form it in a U.  And leave it on a fence post as a clue.” 

The redneck’s jaw dropped.
> Stars Above and Pits Below
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike watched in awe as Zecora dipped her hooves into the pool of liquid glass.  Twilight for her part was pouring magic into the mirror, keeping it in its fluid state.  The dragon had seen the alicorn perform feats of magic above and beyond his wildest dreams.  However, this was another level.  Building a portal to another dimension, albeit a temporary one, was something he had never expected to witness.   

The zebra grunted.  “For me to breach into the beyond I’ll need more magic to weaken the bonds.”   

Twilight only nodded and redoubled her efforts.  The mirror now fully encased in the Princess’s aura began to float off the ground. 

Spike did not know how Zecora was doing this, but he was now very sure he did not want to get on the zebra’s bad side.  It did not seem like she had done much.  She had painted her face in violet swirls and sprinkled some purple dust in the shape of a pentagram on the looking glass’s surface.  Last, but not least, she had placed a grease-stained rag that had come from Ernest’s old truck in the center of the pentagram.  She then began chanting.  The brew mistress had nodded to Twilight, giving her the signal to give life to the spell.  The glass in the mirror had turned to indigo-colored mercury, and through it Spike could see into one of the rooms of Canterlot High.  The view was blurry, like looking into a lake of purple haze, but he could make out enough to see that they were looking into some kind of music room.  Moments later a tall, lanky figure appeared, pushing a mop around the floor.  “Ernest!”  Spike had shouted.  “It’s him.” 

Zecora’s grunts turned to shouts as she struggled against an unseen barrier just beneath the pool’s surface.  Spike watched Ernest stop mopping and focus his attention on the mirror.  It looked like the human was saying something, but Spike could hear nothing over Twilight’s magic and the Zebra’s chanting and grunting.   

“Zecora, I think you’re doing it. He’s seeing something on his side of the mirror,” yelled Spike.   

Thus encouraged, the brew mistress hollered to the princess.  “More power, my friend.  We are approaching the end!” 

Twilight closed her eyes and dug deep.  Sweat washed the pony’s face and began to collect underneath her hooves.  The mirror’s wooden frame buckled and broke underneath the intense pressure.  

The zebra’s chanting shouts increased in volume to full-on screams as her hooves pressed down.  Spike bit his talons as the tension continued to build until finally Zecora’s hooves passed through the mirror and into Ernest’s realm.  The dragon could here singing the second Zecora had pierced the barrier.    

“ ’Tis I’ll be here in sunshine or in shadow!   
Oh Danny boy, Oh Danny boy, I love you so!”   

Spike watch Zecora lunge forward almost dipping her face into the purple maelstrom of barely contained energy.  She grabbed the human and heaved with all her might.  The baby dragon did not wait for an invitation when he leapt to help.  He reached his claws through the purple pool and grabbed onto something that felt like a foot.  Spike heaved with Zecora.  As he did so, he felt the appendage he was pulling on change from something cold and metallic to something round and rubbery.  The two pulled until a great big chunk of anthromorphic metal exited the warped mirror.  As soon as this happened Twilight cut off the flow of magic to the mirror and collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.   The purplish mass of liquid glass coalesced into a disfigured chunk of black sand and shattered when it hit the wooden floor of the library. 

Spike winced at the noise, but his attention was solely on what he and Zecora had just fished from the dimensional pond.  “What is that?  It can’t be Ernest, can it?”  The dragon looked at the metal thing’s glowing, blue, square head.  It had a message that said, “An error occurred while displaying the previous 27,532 errors.  Rebooting in 10, 9, 8 . . .” 

Zecora frowned.  “I hope so, my little dragon, for we do not have the resources to try this again.” 

“7, 6, 5 . . .” 

Regaining some of her strength, Twilight slowly walked up to where the others were and looked down at the machine.  Words laced with exhaustion she commented, “Maybe he’s in a costume.  Ernest can disguise himself pretty well when he wants to.” 

Spike and Zecora nodded hopefully. 

“4, 3, 2, 1” 

With a happy jingle, the blue screen disappeared and was replaced by a smiling, yellow face decked out with a flat cap.  The robot slowly sat up.  “Faith!  Either that was one heck of an update package, or I need some serious defragging.  Now, where’s me mop?” 

 Spike frowned.  That did not sound like the voice of the redneck.  “Ernest?  Is that you?”  

The robot blinked and studied the three other occupants that were in the room with him.  He stared at the Equestrians for a long time before the small bulldozer blade lodged in his chest flipped down to produce a keyboard.  With fast, hydraulic hands, Willie typed frantically all the while muttering, “No, no, no.  This can’t be right.  I thought he was just telling me stories.  I can’t be here.” 

Twilight, Spike, and Zecora looked at each other in confusion as the thing typed and talked.  

“I have spent little time with Ernest at best, but was he usually like this?” asked Zecora. 

Both Spike and Twilight shook their heads. 

With a loud clunk the robot’s keyboard retracted back into his chest cavity.  “Okay, there’s nothing wrong with me.  No virtual gremlins, hard drive is pure, posotronic brain accelerator and flux capacitor are green, I’m even current on me patches by Jaysus.  So that means . . .”   Slowly, the robot pushed himself up onto his wheeled feet.  With one of his hands he rubbed the back of his monitor/head like he was unsure how to proceed.  He looked at the alicorn and asked, “Lass, be ye Princess Twilight Sparkle, per chance?” 

Twilight beamed, “Yes.” 

The robot closed his eyes.  “Stars above and pits below.  The database and facial scans don’t lie.  This place is real.  I’m in Camelot.” 

Spike brightened.  “Ernest!  It is you.”   

Willie shook his head.  “Nay, lad.  Me name is Willie.  Ernest P. Worrell is me creator and Da.  Right now he’s watching Sunset Shimmer back at the academy perform a play that I’d be proud to watch in the Abbey Theatre.”  Willie’s virtual eyes narrowed.  “Speaking of which, why am I here instead of over there?” 

Zecora motioned for Willie to follow her.  She opened a door to a small adjoining room and gestured to what was inside it.   

The robot took a look inside, and then did a double take.  “By Saint Simon’s stubby shillelagh, that’s here too?”  Inside the room was the pin-cushioned, catatonic troll.  “I thought Da took care of all the foul fae folk.  How many of these wee demons do ye have knockin about?” 

“There’s one more somewhere in the Everfree Forest, and he could have five dolls,” Twilight muttered.   

Willie closed his virtual eyes and processed these new revelations.  “Do we know where the evil Yggdrasil is?” 

“What?” asked the alicorn. 

“The tree, where’s his bloody tree?”    

Spike shook his head.  “We don’t know yet.  Nopony has spotted anything in the forest yet.” 

Willie bit back a curse and looked back at the pinned troll.  “I take it he didn’t want to talk?” 

The Equestrians filled him in on the brief interrogation and how it ended so abruptly.   

“Okay, so he’s not dead.  He just stroked off after he said something about a Pony of Shadows.  How very Shakespeareic of him.”    

Before the Equestrians could reply, Willie held up a hand to silence them.  “Okay, here’s the plan.  You lot get my Da here.  I don’t care how you do it.  I don’t care what favors you have to call in.  I don’t care how many mirrors you have to bugger up; just get him here.” 

Twilight frowned. “The mirror to Canterlot High is closed.  We need to send a message to Princess Cadence to see if she can somehow open the portal and bring Ernest back.” 

Spike grimaced.  “We got another problem.  Even if they find Ernest, it’s going to take hours for him to get here.” 

“Leave that to me, my friends.  I have an acquaintance that will help us to our ends.” 

“Who is it?”  asked Twilight. 

 “There is no time to explain, Twilight, my friend.  Preparations need to be made, and I will begin.”  With that, Zecora left the company and ventured forth into a much more uncertain world.     

The alicorn turned her attention back to the robot.  She watched one of its fingers telescope out to form a fine, foot-long point.  “Willie, what are you doing?” 

Willie eyed the Troll’s skull like it was a watermelon about to be cut in half. “Something ye don’t want to see.  If he won’t talk, then we’ll have to find out what he knows another way.  And we don’t have all night.” 

Twilight nodded in understanding and shoed Spike out of the room and told him what to say in the message to Cadence.  Meanwhile, Willie had placed one of his hands on the troll’s head. 

The alicorn watched in fascination as jumbled heaps of raw data streamed by on Willie’s monitor/head, completely obscuring Willie’s avatar.  After several moments, Willie’s smiling, yellow flatcapped face reappeared on the monitor.  “Bloody hell.  Can’t go in through the skull; bone density is too thick, even for my widgets.  Have to go in through the mouth.”  The robot repositioned himself to the front of the troll and looked up into the gaping maw of the catatonic troll.  He nodded.  “Should work.”   

“Can I help?” 

Willie blinked and looked at the tired alicorn.  The poor thing looked like she could barely stand and her face had a greenish complexion.  The robot flexed his hands as if loosening them up for the task ahead.  “Are ye sure you wouldn’t rather be somewhere else, lass?  This won’t be pretty.” 

“I’ll try and keep him from biting down on your arm while you are operating.” 

“Much obliged, if you’re up to it.  You look about as healthy as an Irish man’s liver.” 

Twlight took a deep breath.  “I’ll be fine.  Just give me a minute.”  The pony looked at the troll and asked, “This might seem like an odd question, but why do we still need Ernest?  He’s just a human, right?  Aren’t you better equipped to handle this problem with your instruments and knowledge about the trolls?” 

“In a word, no, I’m not.  There is a prophecy written about these little buggars back on Earth. ‘From the innocence of five, an evil army shall arise.  When blossoms shower down like rain, my dark kingdom shall come again.  There is one who can stop me, if he will dare, with the heart of a child and a mother’s care.’”   

Twilight nodded.  “That’s from Old Lady Hackmore’s book.  Remind me to give that to Ernest when he comes back.” 

Willie turned back to the troll and pointed.  “Everything I know about trolls, Equestria, ponies, has come from Ernest P. Worrell.  According to my Da, back in Missouri he encountered a troll so powerful nothing could stop it.  Not milk, not bullets, nor the combined might of an entire town.  Troll Fighter One doesn’t know how the troll grew so powerful; no one does.  But it did, and it was a holy terror to behold.  This troll had taken five innocent children and turned them into wooden bookends to create his army, just like this wee turd blossom was doing,” Willie said, thumping the pinned troll on the leg.  “The people wanted this thing’s blood and weren’t too particular about how they got it.  They thought their kids were gone and gone forever.  At the end, it was my da against probably the most powerful creature on the planet.  All Ernest had was a carton of milk in his hand and a ring of fire at his back.  You see, I have my dad’s memories in my head.  And I will never forget to my deactivation day the naked hatred in those people’s faces.”       

The pony’s eyes widened.  She had been told this story before by Ernest himself while he was in his hospital bed.  He had explained things in his own unorthodox way, but he had not impressed on her just how epic the confrontation really was.  “But Ernest won.  He kissed the troll, and it exploded.” 

“Aye, that’s what he did.  For a few seconds he loved that troll like any mother would her son.  The creature that wanted him dead became the most important thing in the world to him.”  Willie sighed.  “The point is, it’s easier to give love, even unconditional love, to your family, your friends, people you know that have your back through thick and thin. Unconditional love is a bloody rare commodity when it comes to dealing with strangers, the shady characters in the streets, or the average joe in a crowd.  Unconditional love for an enemy that wants to kill you and messes with kids like that . . .” Willie paused and shook his head.  “I’m willing to bet my wheels and rubber that you can’t fill a water closet with enough people who can give that kind of love to a monster.”  The robot gave the alicorn a hard look.  “Lassie, I’m a robot.  I don’t even know if I can love, let alone give it unconditionally like my father does.  All I do know is that Ernest P. Worrell can give that kind of love.  And that is why we need him here.”    

The Princess considered what the robot had said.  “I never thought about that.  But, you’re right.  I don’t know that many ponies that could or would love a troll like Rotnart.”  She let her gaze wonder to a nearby table.  On it stood the six wooden dolls that were very near and dear to her heart.   

Gently, Willie replied, “Don’t fret, Princess.  We’ll turn them back.  You have me word on that.  Now if ye are ready, I could use your help.” 

Without a word, Twilight’s magical aura encompassed the troll’s jaws.  She didn’t feel any resistance from the comatose troll.   

Moments later, Willie stepped up to Rotnart’s gaping maw.  With a quick, fluid motion, the robot implanted his probing spike through the roof of the troll’s mouth.   

The alicorn looked away while still maintaining her magical hold on the creature’s mouth.  She felt the troll jolt but remain docile.   

“Hmmm, interesting.  It’s like watching a crappy Welsh play with half the acts missing and no one’s talking.” 

Twilight opened her eyes in curiosity.  She was about to ask what the robot was seeing, but to her surprise, she didn’t need to.  Flashing by on Willie’s monitor were strange images that only lasted seconds at a time.  The pony stepped back in surprise.  She saw Discord gesturing to the Tree of Harmony.  After that she saw another troll talking and walking to a crumbling building that she recognized as the Castle of the Two Sisters.  Moments later, she saw what looked like Nightmare Moon enchant both trolls with some sort of powerful spell.  “These are Rotnart’s memories, right?” 

For a reply, Willie extracted his metallic probe which killed the feed to the troll’s memories.  He repositioned his arm by a few degrees and stabbed into the troll’s brain once again.  This elicited a wet gurgle from the troll.  Twilight felt the troll’s jaws reflexively bite down.  The alicorn held back the teeth and after a while, the troll stopped biting.  Twilight looked at Willie’s screen and saw that Rotnart’s memories began to flow by on Willie’s monitor/head again.  “Aye, I’m trying to hit the hippocampus . . . but I’m not bloody sure where that is.  It’s not like there’s an anatomy book on these things that says ‘poke the evil troglodyte here to get to his head-movies.’” 

Twilight’s eyes lit up.  “Maybe not on these trolls, but there is one on cave trolls.  They might be similar.”   

The pony could hear the confused surprise through the robot’s speakers.  “You have one of those?” 

“Yes.  This is a library, after all.  I know exactly where it is.” 

Without looking up, Willie said, “We don’t have time for . . . .”  The next thing he knew, a book was under his proverbial nose.  The pages depicted detailed pictures of a troll’s brain, skull, and scalp, along with little descriptions of each part. 

The robot extracted the probe and took a closer look at the book.  He smirked.  “Heh, well done, lass.  This helps.” 

Twilight felt a smile twitching across her tired face.  “Thanks.” 

After a minute of speed reading, Willie put down the book and declared, “Right then.  According to this book we should find what we’re looking for about here.”  Slowly, the robot inserted his super-fine probe once more into Rotnart’s gray matter.  The flat-capped, yellow, smiley face that represented Willie’s emotions frowned.  “By Cromwell’s cursed cock.  What is this?” 

“What?  What’s wrong?”  Twilight heard the sound of thin metal hitting thick glass.  “Tink, tink, tink, tink.” 

On the fourth “tink,” Twilight saw a blinding flash of blackness.  To the alicorn it was like staring into an eclipse.  Half a heartbeat later she heard a loud crash.  She blinked away the after images of the bright, dark light and saw that Willie had been thrown across the room and had landed in a heap, breaking several bookshelves.  The robot’s monitor was cracked down the middle.  The smiling, yellow screen avatar had two x’s over his eyes and several virtual teeth had been knocked out.   

The princess galloped over to the robot’s side.  “Willie, are you alright?” 

The machine slowly rose to his wheeled feet.  “Jaysus,  Mar---, bzzzt, and Joseph,” muttered the robot.  “Yeah, I’m ok--- aaaaaaaay.” 

“You don’t sound ok.”          

Willie slammed his hydraulic metal hands against the side of his computer screen, which seemed to help some.  “I don’t know what’s in that tro-- ‘bzzzzt’ head, but it’s none too pure.  Something put a block of nasty crap in there, and it’s ‘bzzzzzzzt’ keeeeeeeeeeping the troll down and out.  It’s sending signals to keep the troll in a coma.  And apparently it doesn’t liked to be tam-, tamm-, ta-, ‘bzzzt.’  Bloody Hell!” screamed Willie in frustration at his new speech impediment.  “It doesn’t liked being #*#$ed with.”  

Twilight put her hoof to her mouth in concentration.  She thought of the blinding black light and the images she saw of the pony of shadows.  Both times she saw the same blackness.  She quickly put two and two together.  The alicorn turned to Willie.  “If we remove that blockage in Rotnart’s brain, will he return to normal?” 

The robot shrugged.  “If I was in his shoes, I’d probably feel a lot better.  Can you ‘bzzzt’ do it?”      

Twilight looked at Rotnart.  “Maybe, if this is what I think it is.  A disenchantment spell should do the trick.  Since you already set off the trap, this should be fairly simple.” 

“Happy to help,” Willie replied drily.  

Twilight sent her magic questing through the troll’s mouth, following the pin-prick holes Willie had made minutes before.  “A thousand years ago, Nightmare Moon enslaved ponies by using her magic to place these talismans in her victim’s heads.  Her magic would coalesce and form into small, solid blocks.  According to the books I’ve read, the effectiveness of these blocks of magic were not consistent.  Some ponies could resist being controlled by Nightmare Moon better than others.  Ironically, the less intelligent the pony was, the better they could resist.” 

At that moment, Spike peaked into the room.  “Is everypony okay in here?  I heard some crashing and swearing a minute ago.” 

Willie raised his hand.  “Guilty of both.  You got the ‘bzzzzt’ message done?” 

“Yeah, I just sent it.  What happened to you?” 

“The Troll’s egg salad was booby trapped.  Long story.  I’ll tell ya when you’re older.” 

Before Spike could ask any further questions, Twilight sent a pulse of energy through her horn down the tendrils of magic that ended in the Troll’s brain.  The alicorn could feel the dark block of magic dissolve and disappear completely.   

The troll’s eyes popped opened.   The next thing Twilight and her friends knew, Rotnart was filling the library with his screaming.  “Rabuf!  Rabuf!  Don’t read the book!”  The Troll was sweating profusely and his breath came in strangled heaves like he had just seen a ghost.  Rotnart then locked eyes with the alicorn.  “Rabuf, my brother, he’s going to the tree!  He’s going to the Tree of Harmony.  Once he reads the book to transform the tree, the Pony of Shadows will be freed.  We got to stop her!  She’ll kill us all!  Ponies, trolls, . . . whatever the hell that thing is.”  Rotnart said nodding at Willie.  “I touched her mind when she tried to ruin mine!  I know what she’s going to do, and it’s #$*^ing terrible!” 


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
 

Rabuf followed the flight of winged opossums through the night sky with his eyes.  It looked like they were looking for something.  “Good luck you brave marsupials.  I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he said hopefully.  The troll turned his attention back to the task at hand.  He was close.  From where he stood, he could see the staircase that led to the shiny plant thing.  He felt a wave a joy wash over him.  He was about to make some more friends.  There was only one thing that was bothering him.  He thought back to the last time he had spoken with Rotnart. 


Earlier:  
 

The king turned to his brother and helped him to his feet. “Rabuf. Brother. I am going to ask you to do a very hard thing. Maybe the hardest thing you’re ever going to do in your life. But the future of our race is now in your hands. I need you to concentrate and pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you.” 

Rabuf nodded enthusiastically, already forgetting that his brother had tried to choke him to death moments ago.  “Sure, boss.  What do ya need?” 

“I need you to take all the kid dolls you can get your disgusting hands on to the shiny place in the middle of the forest.  When you get there, turn to page forty-two in my book.  I need you to touch the book to the tree, and then put the five dolls in the hole.” 

The younger trolled frowned. “But you told me never to read that book.  You said you’d use my intestines as a jump rope if you caught me with that book.” 

“I know.  But the plan’s changed.  Do you know what the number forty-two looks like?” 

“Yeah, it looks like a gallows with a snake next to it.” 

Rotnart blinked and shook his head.  “If you’re short a doll, there’s another one buried with the book and sword right in front of the tree.  I don’t know if Discord is a kid or not, but it’s worth a shot.  You know where to look for these things, right?” 

“Sure, I got it on the map.”  Rabuf then proceeded to pull out a piece of old, moldy fabric that had a big X on it and nothing else. 

The troll king began to massage his temples in exasperation.  He was about to ask Rabuf another question when he looked up suddenly.  “Yeah, I know.  I know they’re coming.  Just throw me a bone and I’ll take care of them.” 

Rabuf frowned.  “Boss, aren’t you coming with me?” 

Rotnart looked at his brother for a long moment.  “Yeah, I’ll be right behind you.  I just got to take care of something first.  Just do as I say and everything will be fine.  And for hell’s sake, don’t wait for me.” 

The younger troll smiled.  “You can count on me.” 

Rotnart nodded and started walking away from his brother.   He then yelled over his shoulder, “Hey Rabuf, that sword by the book is yours, by the way.  Happy Nightmare Night.  I’ll see you in the hot country.”  And with that, Rotnart disappeared into the crowd of costumed opossums.   


The Present:
 

Rabuf smiled at the memory.  His brother sure was great.  He knew how much Rotnart liked that sword.  It was strange though that he was just giving it to him.  And what did he mean by, “I’ll see you in the hot country?”  Were they taking a vacation to a desert after this?  The troll shrugged.  He’d have to ponder on these questions later.  As he descended the last step of the stone staircase, he took out his map and referenced it.   He began counting his steps from the base of the staircase heading straight east.  Once he paced off the last of his steps, he bent down and used his meaty hands as shovels. About a minute later he had procured the buried treasure.     

Reaching into the hole, Rabuf produced the sword.  He unsheathed the blade and marveled at how shiny and sharp it was.  “I could shave many a opossum with this,” declared the troll.  Images of a troll-staffed barber shop danced in his head.  He pulled out the heavy, hide-bound book next.  The tome seemed to have a life of its own as he flipped through the pages absently.  He could feel the book pulse with dark powers as he cradled it in his hands.  The young troll’s eyes began to burn as he skimmed over the eldritch runes and words.  He shook his head and put the book down to grab the last item.  Grasping the doll by its long serpentine body, he unearthed the strangest doll he had ever seen.  “And you must be Discord,” the troll said to the doll.  “My brother told me about you.  He said to put you in the Tree of Harmony thing if I don’t have enough tiny opossums.  I hope you don’t mind?”  Then something occurred to the troll, and a sinking feeling came over the troll’s stomach.    “Speaking of which . . .”        

The troll emptied his sack that contained the small opossums that had not been sold at Filthy Rich’s stand.  Only three dolls fell out onto the ground.  After adding the Discord statue to the pile, he found that he was still one doll short.  He patted himself down to see if he had hidden away any other small dolls.  But all he found were a couple adult opossum dolls and the jackalope figure.  Rabuf frowned; none of these would work.  The troll shrugged.  “Well, guess I gotta go back to Opposumville and get some more.  They’ll be so glad to see me.” 

Before Rabuf could head for the staircase, he noticed a young squirrel in the white tree.  The troll stared at the animal for a moment and then looked down at his collection of kid-dolls.  He nodded to himself. “Worth a shot,” he said quietly.  The troll cleared his throat and did his best squirrel impression.  The mammal looked down from its perch and glared at the new comer.  Rabuf stopped talking, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment.  “Oopsie, uh, let me rephrase that  . . . squeak, squirk, sqwak, squakinoff.”    

At this point the squirrel started hurling whatever it could get its little paws on, all the while cussing up a blue-streak at the troll.  Rabuf recoiled in shock at the youngling’s viciousness.  He was very polite when he asked the little guy if he wanted to be turned into a wooden figure.  He even said, “please.”  A simple “no” would have been enough; there was no need for all this aggression and bad language.  The squirrel was so upset, it lost its balance and fell out of the tree.      

The troll sprang into action.  With a running-dive, Rabuf caught the furry creature in the cusp of his hands.  The troll sighed in relief as he cradled the squirrel.  “Don’t worry, little guy, you’re safe now.”  Rabuf frowned when he didn’t hear a reply from the mammal.  He looked at the small creature and cringed.  “Oh, right.  Sorry.”  The little squirrel had turned into a doll, frozen in a terrified position. 

Rabuf looked at his five dolls dubiously.  “I wonder what Rotnart would say about this.”  He considered waiting for his brother but shook his head.  The Troll King had told him not to.  Picking up the ancient tome, Rabuf turned to the desired page.  He felt the book vibrate in his hands as if it sensed what was about to happen.  Rabuf paused; something felt off with what he was about to do.  He couldn’t put his finger on it, but then again he had come too far to quit now.  And above all things, he wanted to make his brother proud.  With that thought in mind, he touched the book to the tree.   

The troll took a few steps backwards.  He felt an invisible force push him back like a strong gust of wind.  He looked at the Tree of Harmony and frowned.  It was exactly the same.  Just to make sure, he walked around looking for a gaping hole in the tree to put the dolls in.  There was none.  The book had fallen to the ground.  Bending down Rabuf picked up the book and flipped through it.  All the pages were blank, and he no longer felt the pulse of energy from the tome. 

Rabuf stood there scratching his head considering the current predicament.  “Oh boy, Rotnart is not going to be happy that I broke the tree.  Hmmm, what would he do if he was here?”  The troll looked up at the tree and screamed, “Work you #*$king piece of $h!t!”  At that moment he felt that invisible gust of energy again.  This time it was coming from behind him.  The troll stumbled forward and nearly fell but righted himself just in time.  He looked behind him and watched a spectacle very few had ever witnessed. 

Trailing the gust were legions of black spirits highlighted in the Tree of Harmony’s bright majesty.  They slithered and glided forward just above the forest floor, pouring over the sheer cliff face and staircase.  The ghosts came from all directions heading straight for the white tree.  Slowly, the ancient tree turned a morbid shade of black and began to droop like a weeping willow.  The bark flaked off exposing the rotting underside.  Rabuf gazed in fascination as an enormous cavity formed on the side of the transforming tree.  

The troll sighed in relief.  Grabbing the five dolls, Rabuf marched into the hole and placed the five dolls on top of five shelves built to cradle the troll’s source of power.   This only seemed to accelerate the Tree of Harmony’s metamorphism.  Green pods began to form on all the branches, starting out the size of tiny buds but rapidly growing into apple-sized vessels.  In each pod was one of Rabuf’s brothers or sisters.  When the pods grew too heavy, they would fall from the tree and grow.  

Rabuf reveled in the moment with a great grin on his face.  He had done it.  A new troll kingdom will be born.   

“That’s quite a sight.  You have done well.” 

The young troll turned to regard the familiar voice.  There before him was the Pony Shadows in all her dark glory.  “Well, hi, great black opossum of the under-castle.  What are you doing here?  I thought you couldn’t leave the castle.  And have you seen my brother?  He’s late for the fun.” 

The ghostly alicorn regarded the troll for a moment before saying, “That book of yours released all the evil spirits shackled to the earth for miles around, including yours truly.  Ever since you two intruded upon my lair, I have been watching through your brother’s eyes.  I knew exactly what his plan was and was able to prepare myself accordingly.  I have no intention of feeding your incubator like those other pour souls are now doing.”   

Rabuf blinked and looked at the river of ghosts streaming into the roots of the tree.  “Oh, is that what’s going on?  I thought there was another party going on down there, and you had to be dead to attend.” 

The pony of shadows cleared her throat to get the troll’s attention.  “As to the fate of your brother, I’m afraid the worst has happened.” 

Rabuf raised a shaggy eye-brow.  “He bit his tongue?” 

“No.” 

“He stubbed his toe?” 

“No.” 

“He ran out of toilet paper?” 

The dark alicorn bit back a frustrated scream.  She took a deep breath and replied, “He’s dead.  The ponies captured him and tortured him to death with milk.”   

The young troll stared at the ghost for a moment.  “What?” 

“I saw it through your brother’s eyes.  The King of the Trolls is dead.  You are now the leader of this new generation of trolls.  Rotnart sacrificed himself for you so you could get here and raise this army.  He asked me to be your advisor and help guide you as King before he died.   

Rabuf shook his head in disbelief, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  “No.  No he can’t be.  He’s supposed to be here.  We need to rescue him.  We can’t leave him in the hooves of the opossums.  They’ll cut off his head and lay their eggs in his ears.” 

The Pony of Shadows nodded her head.  “You’re right, your highness.  We’ll recover Rotnart’s body, and then the ponies must pay.  When these pods fall, we will have an army the likes of which Equestria has never seen in centuries.  We will reduce this kingdom to submission in a week.” 

Rabuf wiped away his tears and looked up at the growing pods blossoming on the branches of the corrupted tree.  “We’re coming, brother.” 
> Goo Puddles Don't Lie
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ernest shook his head in disbelief.  “Naw, that can’t be right.  I squirted the last troll when I came through that portal thing after I hit it with my truck. Ask Rimshot.  He saw the whole thing.  That troll and I were having a duel, and we shot at the same time, and . . . and.”  The redneck fought for the right words.  “I saw him turn to goo with my own eyes.” 

“Ernest,” Princess Cadence said gently, “I believe you, but Spike’s letter was adamant.  We need to get back to Ponyville, now.  Twilight has one troll in custody, but there is still another loose turning ponies into dolls.”  

“But,” the sanitation started to say, pausing and letting out a defeated breath, “this can’t be happening.  I got them all.  Goo puddles don’t lie.”  

“We’re not blaming you, Ernest,” Shining Armor added.  “But we need to go, and we can’t do this without you.  You’re the only troll fighter we got.”

Ernest didn’t reply for a few seconds.  He fidgeted with his hands and murmured, “I’m not sure I’m your guy.  There’s gotta be someone else.  I can’t do anything right.  This is all my fault.  All I wanted to do was build a tree-fort with my friends back home.  I didn’t mean to wake up great-grandpappy’s troll.  I didn’t mean for my buddies to get turned to dolls.  And I sure as heck didn’t mean to bring this mess to Camelot.  I’m the worst troll fighter in the history of troll fighting.”

The redneck turned from the stares of the two seated humanized ponies and tried to hold back the tears forming in his eyes.  He felt a hand on his shoulder.  “Ernest, look at me.”

The lanky human obeyed and stared into the eyes of Sunset Shimmer.  

“We all make mistakes. I mean I was trying to take over this school just before you came along.  That’s on me. But this,” she gestured towards Shining Armor and Princess Cadence, “this isn’t your fault.  You weren’t the one who brought those trolls to Equestria, and besides according to what you told me, it was foretold that you would awaken that monster.  There is nopony living that can fight destiny. Not you, or I, not even Twilight Sparkle or Princess Celestia.  And it was you who defeated Trantor and his children.”

Worrell shrugged. “Well, yeah, but I had help.  I also had a large stash of miak and troll begone that I barely got to use, and . . .”

Sunset cut him off. “The point is, Ernest, you stepped up to the plate and won when everyone else had counted you out.  You didn’t run away or hide.  You saved your home.  Ernest, I think you’re the bravest human I’ve ever met.”

The troll fighter blinked. “I am?”

Sunset squeezed the janitor’s shoulder.  “Yes. Without a doubt, and now we need the Great Redneck Hope to save Equestria.  Can we count on you?”

Ernest hesitated but only for a moment.  A fire had been reignited in his heart that had nearly been crushed by despair. Determination creased his face and straightened his back.  He rolled up his sleeves and declared to the world, “Troll Fighter One, never backs down from a fight.  You can count on me, Sunny.  Let’s get back to Ponyville and kick some troll back-side.”

The former delinquent smiled broadly at her friend.  “Now you’re talking.”  She held up her fist for a fist-bump.

In response to this, Ernest flinched and took a step back.

“Oh sorry, uh . . . high five?”  

After slapping Shimmer’s hand with his own, Ernest’s head whirred with ideas and possibilities on how to best combat the new troll threat.  “Did Spike say anything about a tree growing brusslesprouts in his letter?”

Cadence blinked in confusion.  “He said that one of the trolls might have corrupted a tree in the Everfree Forest. But nopony knows where it is.”

“He also said that the trolls might have enough dolls to raise an army.” The Captain of the Royal Guard shifted uncomfortably in his human street clothes.  “If these are decadents from Sombra’s champion, then they could already be spawning warriors.”

Ernest stroked his chin nervously.  “Then we gotta move fast.”  The redneck turned to Sunset.  “Sunny, I need you to get Rimshot.  He has as much troll fighting experience as I do.  We also gotta tell Willy.  And . . .”

“He’s already there,” declared the princess.  “Zecora tried to bring you to Ponyville through a mirror, but instead she pulled your robot through.”

The fired janitor’s eyes widened.  “Wow, Dr. Suess can use Alice in Wonderland magic?  Good thing I didn’t stay on her bad side for very long.”  Ernest shook his head rid himself of all distractions.  “Hey, Sunny, after you find Rimshot, round up some of your friends, and grab as much milk as you can.  The cow juice is like super kryptonite to these things.  Trust me on this.”  

The teenager nodded and swung open the door to the classroom they had borrowed for this meeting.  This elicited a yelp of surprise from the two principals standing on the other side who had been straining to listen to the conversation inside.  “Excuse me Principal Celestia and Vice-principal Luna.”

“Sunset, what’s going on?” asked the older sister.  

“Can’t talk now, ma’am, not a lot of time.”  And with that, the young lady disappeared down the school halls.

Luna frowned after the teenager and eyed Ernest who was trying to help Shining Armor to his unfamiliar feet.  “I could use a little help here, ma’ams.  I need to get these two back to the statue out front.”

“I’m fine, Ernest.  I can walk on my own.”  The proud guard captain tried to take a step forward and would have collapsed if Worrell had not have been nearby.

Without another word, Principal Celestia assisted Cadence out of her desk while Luna took Shining Armor’s other arm and helped Ernest guide the changed pony out of the room.  

“I’m assuming these two are from the world beyond the statue?” asked Luna. 

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Ernest.  “It’s great over there.  They got flying horses that control the weather.  Horses with bones sticking out of their heads that can move stuff with their minds, and . . .”  

“I know, Ernest,” Luna paused for a moment before asking, “Are you from that land as well?”  

Using his free arm Ernest opened the door into the dimly lit hallways of Canterlot High.  “Me? Naw.  Me and Rimshot are from Missouri, land of the bluebirds and the guberburgers.  We’re still trying to get back there.  Kind of slow goin, being broke and all.”

The vice-principal thought for a moment.  “I’ve never heard of this place called Missouri.”

The group stopped and waited as a pack of students passed in front of them.  The youths stared curiously at the faculty and the people they were helping but did not question the situation.  They had a party to attend that was still going strong, judging from the noise coming from the school gym.  

As soon as the youths were gone, Ernest started talking again.  “It’s not on this side of the statue, and it’s not on the other side either. So I’m kind of an alien.  I don’t know if I’m legal or not, in case you’re wondering.”

“But I thought you were from over here,” Shining Armor grunted.  “That’s why we sent you to Canterlot Highschool.  Didn’t you say you had a job waiting for you at this place?”  

“Yeah, sorry about that,” the human paused.  “I was thinking of Chickasaw Falls, home of the Fighting Muskrats.  I hear they got a heck of a football team.  Their band isn’t so hot though.”

The trio halted to allow Cadence and Celestia to catch up.  The principal waved off the concerns of several of the students before proceeding. Once the small squad of awkward moving humans was reunited, the quintet pushed past the main exit.  Waiting in front of the equestrian statue was Sunset Shimmer, Rimshot, and the rest of Shimmer’s new friends.

“Are you sure we can’t go with you, darling?” asked Rarity.  The teenager took off the wig she was wearing and stowed it in a handbag. All the girls were still wearing the costumes from the play.  “From the sound of things, you could use all the help you can get.”

“Yeah, and no offense, but how is milk supposed to stop a troll?” asked Rainbow Dash.  The teenager stuffed the last carton of milk into her backpack and handed it to Sunset.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Trolls can’t stand being loved, and milk somehow ties into that.  It’s kind of weird.”  She sighed and looked at her classmates.  “I’d take all of you with me in a heartbeat, but if we fail to stop the trolls in Equestria, than I’ll need all of you to be ready over here.”

“But . . .” A.J. started to say.

“I’ll be alright. This is something I have to help Ernest do.  And I’m not going to let a bunch of trolls bully my home.  Besides, troll fighter one has dealt with this problem before, right Ernest?”

The janitor had just let Shining Armor down onto a nearby bench. He turned and gave Sunset a thumbs up. “Ain’t no troll too wide, ain’t no troll too high that I can’t beat.”  Hearing a bark of approval, the lanky custodian walked over to where Fluttershy was standing and petted the dog she was holding in her arms.  “Ready to go, boy?”

The beagle yipped in delight.  

Ernest beamed at his pet. “That’s the spirit, Rimshot.  Just save some trolls for the rest of us.”

Gloomily, the pink-haired teenager put down the little dog and scratched the cute beagle underneath the chin.  “Be careful, Rimshot.”

The dog whimpered and licked Fluttershy’s hand before going to stand with his master.  

“Thanks for looking after him again,” Ernest murmured.  “You did as good a job as your pony-self in Camelot.”

Fluttershy paused and thought about what the custodian had just said.  “Um, you’re welcome.  Just keep him safe.  I don’t want anything bad happening to that sweet doggy.”

Ernest nodded.  “I will, but don’t worry about Rimshot.  He bites like a skeeter and claws like a mongoose. He eats trolls for breakfast and brusselsprouts for dessert.  Ain’t that right, boy?”

The troll-fighting hound looked up at his master and gave a slow confused-sounding yip. 

“Good enough,” replied Ernest.

Sunset looked around at the preparations taking place around her.  She watched the interactions between Ernest and Fluttershy with amusement and graciously accepted a homemade cupcake from Pinkie Pie.  As she munched away at her treat, her attention drifted to the two sisters that governed Canterlot High.  The principals were quietly conversing with the changed ponies from the Crystal Empire in front of a hedge like the ones Ernest had been trimming a little while ago behind the school.  When this revelation struck the teenager, she dug her phone from her pocket and found the picture she had taken of Ernest’s shrub art.  Typing a few words into a text message she attached the picture and sent it to Vice-principal Luna’s phone number.   

“Trolls?” asked Principal Celestia. She sighed wearily and added, “There’s always something happening, isn’t there?”

“Unfortunately,” agreed Princess Cadence.  “The good news is we have an expert for this particular matter.”  The humanized alicorn gestured towards Ernest.  The janitor was testing the wind with a wet finger and tossing powdered milk up into the air.  

Celestia opened her mouth and closed it quickly, like she was about to say something she was going to regret.  Instead, she settled on, “If you say so.”

Vice-Principal Luna shifted uneasily from foot to foot.  “I don’t like the idea of sending Sunset Shimmer into danger.  Granted, she is strong and resourceful, but she is a student of this school and therefore our responsibility.”

Using her husband’s shoulder for support, the ruler of the Crystal Empire stood shakily on her own two feet.  She looked Luna in the eye and stated, “She is also a daughter of Equestria and probably the most powerful unicorn, second only to Twilight Sparkle.”  Her gaze softened.  “I promise you, I . . .”  She looked over at Shining Armor, who was standing unsteadily by her side.  “We will look after her.”  

Luna closed her eyes and took a calming breath.  “I suppose that will have to suffice.  I can’t force her to stay here.  But I would if I could.”  Feeling a vibration in her hip pocket, she turned away from the Equestrians with a muttered apology.  The principal took out her phone and frowned at the text.  “Just FYI, Ernest made this for you.”  The vice-principal glanced up at Sunset Shimmer in confusion.  The teen had momentarily ceased her preparations and was staring back at Luna.  The message had an attachment.  Looking back down at her phone, Luna opened the picture.  After staring at her phone for a few seconds trying to comprehend what she was looking at, it finally dawned on her.  The school official let out a shocked gasp and covered her mouth. The bush sculpture was breath-taking. She could easily make out who the two figures were seated at a table gazing into each other’s eyes over a shared milkshake.

“Luna, are you alright?” asked her big sister.  

The younger sibling recovered slowly.  She looked up at Sunset Shimmer who was smiling at her.  Luna’s phone buzzed for a second time.  She looked down at her device.  The message read, “You should thank him before we go.”  Luna’s heart fluttered and her hands became very sweaty at the thought of talking to the redneck.  But she looked back at Sunset and nodded her agreement.  

“Luna?” asked Celestia again. 

The vice-principal coughed and cleared her throat.  “Yes, sorry, I’m fine Principal Celestia.”  She glanced at the troll fighter for a moment.  “Excuse me for a moment, please.”  

Ernest grabbed a handful of powdered milk and tossed it into the air.  He nodded as he watched the floury substance blow lazily through the dark night.  “Yeah, this is a good batch.  If I remember the Tulip Brother’s 101st Airborne Division’s Troll Resistance and Counter Insurgency Handbook correctly, you want your air-worthy troll repellent to linger in the atmosphere for precisely five point seven seconds. 

Rimshot shook his head and barked in disgust. 

“It is so a real manual.  And I got a bargain on it at $78.99.”

The beagle replied with a series of yips and a sneer. 

Ernest frowned.  “So what if it was written in crayon?  The strategies laid out in it are sound.  Who wrote that Art of War book?”  Ernest paused and put a finger to his chin in thought.  “Was it Confushucks, Cornwhole, Confoundeded,”  The redneck’s face brightened when he snapped his fingers in recollection.  “Confucius, that’s his name.  Remember what Confucius said about strategy, Rimshot?”

The beagle stared up at his master and slowly shook his head.

“He said if a strategy is strange but it works, the strategy is not strange.  I got a feeling we’re going into a dicey situation, boy.  And we need all the official troll fighting know-how we can get our hands on.  Our minds cannot afford distraction at this critical junction. From here on in we must eat, live, breathe, and think like a troll.  We need to be razor sharp, focused like a laser.  We c---“

“Excuse me, Ernest, but may I have a word with you before you leave?”

Ernest felt the container of powdered milk slip from his grip.  He turned around and tried to hide the box from view.  “Sure, Vice-principal Luna.”  

Luna’s voice was polite but resolute when she asked, “Did you make this?”  She held up her phone.  

The troll fighter’s eyes widened.  He visibly squirmed trying to think of the best way to answer the question.  “Oh, that.  Uh, well you see ma’am.  I . . . I had an idea that I’d enter a bush, I mean a shrub in a contest back home. Yeah, that’s right.  It was a Valentine’s Day theme shrub trimming contest. I have this lady friend back home who looks a lot like you and . . . and.”  

The school official gave Ernest a cold stare.

Worrell sighed and hung his head.  “Yes.  I made that. The name of the piece is called Moonlight Bliss . . . I didn’t get the chance to make a moon.  I was going to put it above your head.  Er, I mean the piece’s head.  I don’t know how it happened.  I got to thinking of you and the counselor position and our date uh . . . I mean the job interview.  And the next thing I know Sunny is by my side telling me to snap out of it, and I’m staring at this piece of art I didn’t really mean to make.  The sheers just took over.  Ya know what I mean?  I . . . I’m sorry, ma’am.”

Luna shook her head. “Don’t apologize,” she said firmly. And after a moment she added softly, “It’s beautiful.”

Ernest frowned and wrung his hands nervously.  “So, you’re not mad at me for defacing school property?  I mean that could get ya fired . . . Eh heh heh heh, again.”

The school officer didn’t answer right away.  She was marveling at a mere picture of what the strange redneck had made.  She ached to see the real thing in all of its glory. Slowly, she put the phone down and faced the troll fighter.  “Ernest, are you coming back?”

The handyman stopped playing with his hands, taken aback by the question.  He thought for a few seconds before responding.  “Would you like me to come back?”

“I’d like that very much,” Luna said happily.  Her bluish face flushed a very lively pink.  She coughed and added hastily in a professional manner, “I mean, yes.  I still wish to discuss with you the assistant counselor’s position.  I see great potential in you, Ernest.  I can’t just let a resource like you go out the door without an interview.”

Ernest nodded.  “Oh yes, ma’am.  But I was just laid off, given the axe, furloughed.  I might have even been canned.  The school was going in a different direction and no longer requiring my services.  I mean, I think I might need a letter of recommendation from my last employer.”

Luna stifled a laugh, “Don’t worry about that.”  She recovered gracefully, and her face took on a more determined air.  “There’s nothing I can do for your custodian vocation, but I understand what you did to get fired and why you did it.  Sunset Shimmer is very lucky to have you as a friend.”

The troll fighter nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about Sunny.” His voice changed to that of a confident warrior.  “The safest place in Troll Country is by my side.  When one stands with Ernest P. Worrell, one never stands alone or without an overwhelming supply of milk, miak, and marmalade.”

The vice-principal gave Ernest a concerned look.  “Just be careful out there.  I don’t know much about trolls or where you’re going, but I want you both back in one piece.”

Seeing the worry in his friend’s eyes, Ernest smiled.  “Don’t worry, ma’am.  We’re coming back.  I promise.”

Ernest looked down at Rimshot.  “Come on, boy.  Onward and upward.”

The beagle barked up at his master and waggled his eyebrows.  

“Oh hush, you.” Ernest replied.  He did his best to hide the blush creeping up his face but failed.

Troll fighter one picked up his animal companion and at last bade Luna a final farewell.  He waved at Principal Celestia and the rest of Sunset Shimmer’s friends before joining the Equestrians infront of the school statue. 

“So how did you two get here?  The portal wasn’t supposed to open again for at least another three weeks,” asked Sunset Shimmer.

“You’ll see,” answered Princess Cadence.  “Is everyone ready to go?”

“Ready, willing, and able Your Crystalness,” replied the troll slayer.  “But, we’re going to need more dairy products then the backpack Sunny’s packing.”

“Don’t worry.  The Crystal Empire has the best dairy cows in Equestria. We’ll have all the ammunition we and the crystal guards can carry,” smiled Shining Armor ruthlessly.  

“Let’s go,” declared Sunset Shimmer.  “Equestria needs us.”

Rimshot agreed with a war howl that split the night.  So eager to get into the fray, he jumped from his owner’s arms and charged through the portal.

“Wait for me,” Ernest shouted as he ran after his dog.
> Moon Rocks
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ernest let out the breath he had been holding as soon as his shoes touched solid ground.  He looked around but could only see splotches of rainbow-colored lights dancing before his eyes.  “My dad told me about the 1960s once upon a time.”  The lanky human bowed forward and placed his hands on his knees to steady himself.  “He talked about this vitamin called LSD and how it turned everything technicolored. I’m pretty sure that mirror runs on the stuff,” Worrell said groggily.  

While pawing at his face, Rimshot whimpered his agreement nearby. 

Laughter greeted the redneck’s words from across the room.  “Buddy, you might have a point about the portal. LSD is many things.  However, it is not a vitamin,” a masculine voice declared. 

The troll fighter unbent himself and rubbed at his eyes to get a better look at who was talking to him. Standing in front of the exit were two ponies garbed in shiny bluish armor holding spears at attention.  They stared at him curiously.  

Ernest put his hands behind his head while at the same time trying to put up a brave front.  In a gravelly voice he said, “Ernest Powertools Worell, former custodian of Canterlot Highschool and troll slayer for her majesty Princess Cadence of the Crystal Empire.  Serial number kilo, seven, two, . . . uh . . . jalapeno, Texas, Amarillo, twenty-two and a half.”

The two ponies looked at each other in confusion.  “Is he surrendering to us?” asked one.

“Yeah,” said the guard who spoke earlier.  “Prince Shining Armor said the human they brought through here a few days ago was a bit different.”  He turned his attention back to Ernest.  “Excuse me, we don’t want your surrender.  Are the others behind you?  Where are . . .”

“Ernest Powertools Worell. Former custodian of Canterlot Highschool and troll slayer for her majesty Princess Cadence of the Crystal Empire. Serial num--"

The whooshing of air next to the redneck heralded a new arrival through the portal.  The pony shook her head and massaged her eyes. She squinted up at the troll fighter. “I was wondering if you’d stay the same or change into a pony.  Why are your hands behind your head?”

Ernest took a step back in surprise and lost his footing.  The human pin-wheeled his arms to keep upright but to no avail and nearly fell back through the mirror.  He was saved when a turquoise aura enveloped him like a blanket and stopped his momentum.

“Careful there, Ernest. We can’t have our only troll fighter abandoning the fight before it starts,” the unicorn said playfully. Having regained his bearings, the redneck was released from the magic wrapping.

Ernest stared down at the orange unicorn in shock.  “Uh, thanks, Sunny.  Wow, you look different . . . .  Did you do something with your mane?  It looks nice.  Oh, by the way, I think we’ve just been captured by some polite well-armed police ponies.  I surrendered just to be on the safe side.”

“What?”  Sunset looked straight ahead at the two guards.  She smiled at the pair.  “Ah, Morning Star and Bright Shield.  How are you two doing?”

Morning Star inclined his helmeted head.  “Very well, thank you.  I’d be even better knowing that you were behind magic bars.”

Sunset winced.  “Yeah, sorry about trying to steal Twilight’s Crown and leaving Equestria defenseless.” 

“What about stealing Princess Celestia’s favorite Topaz?  Are you sorry for that?” asked Bright Shield.

The orange unicorn rolled her eyes.  “Yes. And I’m going to give that back.”

“And Luna’s gamer headset?” asked Morning Star.

“Yes,” replied the delinquent tersely.  “Oh wait, I’ll have to buy her a new one of those.  I had a nasty rage-quit a month ago.”

“What about . . .” Bright Shield started to ask but was interrupted by the mirror.

Ernest felt his ears pop when the portal disgorged two more ponies from its depths.  The newcomers shook off the travel sickness with ease, happy to be in their familiar forms.  

Shining Armor advanced to stand before the two saluting guards.  “Is there any news from Ponyville?”

“Yes, sire,” replied Morning Star.  “There is a zebra from Ponyville named Zecora who is awaiting your return at the southern entrance.  She was brought here on Princess Luna’s personal chariot pulled by her two most elite Lunar Guards.  She claims she is here to take the one called Ernest back to Ponyville with all possible haste.”

Shining Armor nodded. “Inform Zecora that Ernest, Sunset Shimmer, and Rimshot are on their way.”

“There’s more, my lord.  Just after you left, a message was received bearing the location of the Troll’s base of operations.  It would appear that the monsters have chosen the Tree of Harmony as their, . . . uh.” The guard referenced the note. “Incubator is the word, sire.”

“Oh, Celestia,” Shining Armor said quietly, his mind racing with the implications of this new revelation.  “Carry out your orders, soldier.”

Morning Star saluted and took off at a canter through the door and down the hall.

The Prince turned his attention to Bright Shield.  “Send word to the first and second companies to be ready to depart for Ponyville within the hour.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Move.”

Needing no further encouragement, the other guard pony took off at a gallop.

Meanwhile as Shining Armor was giving orders, Princess Cadence had used her magic to pluck a smooth square stone from the lintel of the mirror’s housing.  After this was done, the gossamer thin magical aura surrounding the portal collapsed on itself and was gone.

Sunset’s eyes widened. “Sweet Luna, is that a Volana stone? So that’s how you got through the gateway.”  

The alicorn nodded briskly and held up the rock.  It depicted a rune chiseled in ancient ponish on an ebony background.  “A cache of them was found in one of the many basements below the Crystal Palace six months ago.”

Ernest thought for a moment until a light bulb came on in his head.  “Ah, it’s a moon rock.”

Sunset and Cadence stared at Ernest in wonder.

“That’s . . . that’s right . . . sort of,” stammered Sunset.  “How do you know that?”

“Well, back in the day when I was working for my good buddy Vern as an electrician, Vern and I were learning some Malagasy for a business trip to Madagascar.  Well one day I kind of set off the sprinklers in his office. He got a little hot under the collar and said one of these days he was gonna mail my hide to the moon in chunks, except he said it in Malagasy.  Anyway, it just so happens the word ‘Volana’ translates into ‘moon.’”

“That’s interesting and all,” said Shining Armor tersly.  “But we gotta move.  Zecora is waiting for you in front of the palace, Ernest.”

“Who?” asked Ernest. Then it dawned on him.  “Oh, you mean Dr. Suess.  Man she gets around.”

The Prince blinked. “Uh sure, whatever, just get out of here and get to Ponyville as quickly as you can.  My guardsmen and I will be right behind you.  Go to the south ga--.”

“Can do Your Highness.  Come on Sunny, Rimshot.  We got some trolls to bust.  High Ho, Silver, Away.”  Ernest barreled through the open door and into the hallways beyond.  The beagle took off after his master, yipping at him all the while.  

“Ernest, wait!” Shining Armor called after the human. “You’re going the wrong way!”

“Don’t worry.  I’ll get him,” declared Sunset.  “I’ll see you at Ponyville.”




Meanwhile



 


The Pony of Shadows stared at her new shock troopers with a mixture of wonder and disgust.  She had been expecting trolls, a vast army of fearsome warriors with small brains, short tempers, and nigh indestructible bodies. Instead what she got was not even fifty of the ugliest babbling midgets she had ever seen.  They stood barely two feet tall, covered in ragged clothes, fur, scales, and feathers.  With mismatched red eyes that seemed to twitch in every direction, they spotted and ate everything in sight with their huge cavity-laced teeth.  But the noise, the sheer racket the rabble produced grated on her nerves like nothing she had ever experienced before.  She couldn’t understand a thing they were saying.  It was all screeches, howls, and cries, just utter communication anarchy.  Full on battles would erupt between several of these hideous monsters, but being as that they were at least part troll, no one got hurt.  

It wasn’t until they figured out that they could use chaos magic they started to die.  Over one hundred pods had landed on the ground mere minutes ago.  Soon after, when one of the troll-mutants figured out he could make it rain chocolate milk into his mouth, the body count rose.  The Pony of Shadows watched in horror as the other trolls began snapping their claws, talons, or whatever they had and making milk pour on themselves or others.  Half of her army melted away faster than snowcovered logs thrown on a roaring fire. Goo puddles were everywhere. Steaming piles of muck were on the Tree of Harmony, on the carved stairs leading out of the crevasse, and in her ghostly mane.  With her dark arts, she tried to tune into what language they were speaking.  With great effort, she found what she was looking for.  A long dead troll dialect from the frozen north was being used by these creatures. Having finally unearthed this tongue, she employed it as best she could.  Her muzzle contorted under the stresses of the strange language.  With her royal Canterlot voice she tried to put a stop to the madness. “Cease this insanity at once!” commanded the black alicorn.  “I am Nightmare Moon, Queen of the Night, and you will obey me.”  

The Tree of Harmony’s offspring paused in their self-destructive onslaught after the equine’s outburst.  They looked at each other and as one hurled their collective lunacy at the evil pony. In mere moments the Pony of Shadows was covered from horn to hoof in an array of substances ranging from the obscene to the delectable.  Wiping a foul brown material from her eyes, the alicorn’s horn crackled with corposant energy.  With a thought, the sticky, slimy, stuff burned from her body with obsidian fire. And with a growl, she hurled her anger in the form of a black spear of magic that caught one of the trolls in the midriff.  The little monster she was aiming at was cleaved in twain, its upper and lower halves separated with surgical preciseness.  At first a look of shock passed over its puffy distorted face, but to the Alicorn’s surprise, the lower half hopped up on its legs and started to run about. The upper half of the troll shouted angrily at its legs, and using its two arms for locomotion, gave chase.  

The Pony of Shadows followed both halves of the bisected troll with her eyes.  “This is going to take some work.” she whispered to herself.

Before the pony could contemplate this thought any further, a loud whistle pierced the night.  All eyes turned to Rabuf.  The eldest troll stood as still as a statue looking straight ahead.  His eyes fixed upon something only he could see.  He hunched forward like he was about to speak to his new cousins, but instead, vomited upon the earth before the assembly of monsters.  The contents of his stomach hissed and bubbled on the ground, melting nearby rocks and shrubs.  The new troll king strolled forward and picked up a piece of stone in the process of dissolving.  He held it high for everyone to see.  He walked forward and thrust the melting piece of sandstone at one of the smaller trolls.  The equestrian troll stared at the rock gripped in Rabuf’s fist.  He looked at his terrain cousin and shook his head. Rabuf marched to the next mutant and did the same thing.  Again he was rejected.  The Pony of Shadows watched this strange ritual until finally all the remaining trolls had refused their elder.  At last the oldest brought the nauseating mess to his mouth and devoured it.  The smaller trolls gasped in wonder at this act. 

Pain flared in Rabuf’s mouth.  His eyes watered as he let out a groan of anguish.  The Spirit of Nightmare Moon winced as the troll crunched down on the final piece of acidic mush.  But as soon as the meal started it was over.  Rabuf opened his mouth and bellowed wordlessly to the heavens.  The smaller monsters erupted into cheers and slowly began to chant a single word over and over again.  “King, King, King.”

The Pony of Shadows was impressed.  With a single vile act Rabuf had turned this rabble into a marginally more amiable rabble. She stomped the ground in approval adding her own applause to the noisy troupe.  

Slowly, Rabuf raised his hands for silence.  “Wow, that was disgusting,” he wheezed.  

The other trolls laughed and pointed at the terrain monster.

“I didn't need to do that, but I wanted to, and I like the taste.  Getting your attention was just a happy accident.”

“You’re crazy, Troll King,” shouted a tiny female troll in the crowd.  “What do you want and why should we care?”  

The black alicorn eyed the insolent troll.  She wanted very badly to punish the upstart but her powers were not infinite.  For a thousand years she had husbanded her magic, slowly regrowing what she had lost when her greater self was banished to the moon.  Even after all this time, her magic was still not what it once was. She also knew that the key to making this mob do her bidding was through Rabuf.  He would have to be the face of this army, not her.  

“What do I want?” repeated Rabauf.  “What’s your name, cousin?”  

“Hctorc Retib, Your Highness,” the troll curtsied with mock grace.  

“Well, Hctorc Retib Your Highness, I want a strawberry yoohoo served in a glass that is the exact size and shape of my foot.  I want a hat full of rat kidneys that I can sew together for Troll Kwanzaa.”

The equestrian trolls stared at their older brother with confusion written all over their puggish faces. 

The Pony of Shadows face-hoofed.  She didn’t know if she could bend the wills of so many powerful beings at once in her weakened state.  But it was beginning to look like she would have to try if Rabuf couldn’t sway them. 

The larger troll continued, his voice taking on a very sinister tone.  “I want to make my next pair of shoes out of opossum hide.  I want the big opossums to see me turn their little opossums into wood, and then I want them to watch as I eat their children.  I want to sow the opossum fields with the salt of their tears. I want revenge for what they did to our brother.  I want to take you, my kin, with me and conquer this land and to make this place our own forever.  This is what I want.”

Evil grins began to breakout amongst the mutants. Their furry tails twitching in anticipation.  

“Kill the opossums!” a troll shrieked.  

“Yeah, f*#k those guys!” shouted another.

“I never did like them.  Never could tell if they were dead or not!” yelled a third.  

The embodiment of Night Mare Moon nodded. Now was the time to refine and focus this destructive energy.  

As the trolls reveled in their bloodlust, the dark pony stealthily made her way up to Rabuf.  “May I address your subjects, Your Highness?”

The troll nodded and whistled a second time. Slowly the crowd of trolls grew something close to quiet.  

“Before we can begin our great war against the opossum menace, we must first have a word from our sponsor.”  The terrain troll stepped back and let the Pony of Shadows have the spotlight.  

The Black alicorn was greeted with some boos and hisses, but for the most part, the Equestrian trolls gave the pony their attention.  

“Just to be clear, when the troll king says ‘opossum’ he means you will be fighting something like this.”

Black energy gathered on the tip of her horn and with a flick of her neck launched the gathered magic onto the ground before her. The obsidian matter gathered itself and quickly formed an angry-looking unicorn that faced the trolls with a hateful posture. Without warning, the transparent unicorn with glowing black eyes launched itself at the trolls.

The pony of shadows heard fifty sets of fingers snap at once.  The construct she had willed into life came apart under a flurry of chaos magic.  Lightning bolts, laser beams, plaid-colored exploding balls, and other forms of attack were all hurled at the poor golem.  The alicorn’s eyes widened as she watched this display of power.  

One of the taller more muscular trolls in the group yawned in boredom.  “What else you got?”

The Pony of Shadows fought to maintain her glacial composure.  On the outside she maintained the illusion of being as cool as winter.  On the inside she was starting to sweat nervously. “There’s a village of ponies . . . I mean, opossums not more than a few miles from here.”

“Which way?” asked another little monster.  

The black alicorn pointed east.

The Pony of Shadows continued briefing the newborn trolls, and all the while Rabuf was looking at his cousins with pride.  This gaggle of madness and magic would make any King thump his chest and declare to the world, “Yeah, that’s right.  I just crapped on your dinner plate.  Whatcha’ gonna do about it?  I got fifty psychos that got my back.”  Sure they killed one another by the score in testing their abilities, but hey, that’s how the opossum omelet crumbles.  The troll closed his eyes as a gentle breeze caressed his snot-covered face.  The thought of eating an opossum marinated in various juices made the King’s mouth water. He could almost smell the furry bouquet of roasting four-legged pastel goodness.  Rotnart frowned and opened his eyes. He sniffed the air and asked, “Hey, do you filthy animals smell that?”

The Pony of Shadows shot the Troll King a hateful look at having been interrupted.  

“Smell what?” asked Hctorc Retib.  “All I smell is troll-ass, puke, and something weird coming from those clouds over there,” said the young troll pointing.  

All eyes turned to the small stratus clouds loitering overhead to the west.

With a snarl of annoyance, the ebony alicorn blasted a hole through the center of the cloud.  Two pegasi garbed in blue latex with yellow trim vaulted to either side of the magical lance.  The older of the two was wearing a bulky communications device strapped to his back. In a span of a heartbeat the Pony of Shadows blinked out of existence.  To the shock of the Wonderbolts, she reappeared in their midst hovering mere feet away.  

The older of the two elite flyers bellowed, “Run!” to his partner before being enveloped in a cocoon of dark energy.  The junior Wonderbolt tore her attention away from her mentor and flew away as fast as she could.  Nightmare Moon watched the pegasus fly off into the night before being brought down by dozens of rubber chickens, used diapers, and gallons and gallons of Code Red Mountain Dew.  The younger flyer’s screams were cut short when she blindly crashed into a maple tree. The dwarf-trolls were upon her like flies on a corpse and soon her shock and pain were captured for eternity when her assailants turned her into a wooden doll.  The successor of Nightmare Moon sat her prisoner on the ground and took from him the heavy radio set, ripping it through the layers of magic holding the pegasus.  She eyed the headpiece with special interest.  “Tell me, Wonderbolt.  Are you still transmitting?”

Soarin gestured at the green button illuminating the rest of the radio.  “I’ve never stopped, monster.  Ponyville knows you’re coming and will be ready.”

The alicon smiled at the cocooned pony. “Keep thinking that.”  She turned her attention back to the headset. Speaking into the mouthpiece she said, “The Obsidian summer will burn the earth and smite the oceans.  The day will break and the night will perish under the soles of a million monsters.  Weep, oh Ponyville, for the descendants of Sombra’s champion have come home.”  When her declaration was over, she blasted the radio to dust.
> Cutie Mark Crusaders Troll Fighting Division
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight slumped back in her chair, fighting down fresh waves of panic.  Nightmare Moon’s resurgent voice was still echoing through her mind.  Slowly, she reached forward and turned the radio off.

“What are we going to do?” asked Spike. Dread creased the baby dragon’s terrified face.  

“What are we going to do?” repeated an artificial voice with an Irish accent.  The speaker was currently holding a screwdriver against what passed for its head making small adjustments to its circuitry.  To Twilight it looked like the robot was polishing its non-existent ears with a q-tip.  

“I’ll bloody tell ya what w---- *bzzt* ---na do.”  The robot put down the tool and the blue screen that was being displayed on the construct’s monitor refreshed itself.  The yellow "Have a Nice Day" face turned grim after the quick reboot.  “We commandeer all the cow-juice we can lay our hands on, hunker down, and hold out until the Crystal Calvary come galloping in at the last second.”

"But what about all the little fillies and colts?" asked Spike.  "They'll be coming after them to make more trolls."  

The robot's metal fingers balled into fists.  "I know, lad.  We gotta keep them in a spot that can be defended until Christ comes back or Hell freezes over.  How many wee ones are in this town anyway?"

Spike counted on his talons.  "A couple of hundred."

"Sweet Jaysus," muttered the construct.

A slow laugh rolled from the adjoining room.  "Yeah, if I was in your shoes, I’d be praying.  Not that it’d do much good.”

“Quiet, you,” growled Willey.

“I’m serious.  That Pony of Shadows is an evil bitch.  She will take this town apart and move on to the next, and the next, until someone grows a pair of big brass ones and knocks her the F out for good.”  The troll sighed.  “Too bad Worell got himself eaten.  He could have stopped her.  He stopped my dad and he was the meanest *#$(-sucker on the block.”

“But I thought you wanted this,” said Spike, his voice dripping with contempt.  “Didn’t you want to take over Equestria and enslave everypony?”

“Sure, I still want that.  But this Pony of Shadows, or Nightmare Moon . . . whoever the hell this horse is, is bad for everyone.  She’s only using my cousins.  She’ll get rid of them like yesterday’s snot rag once she’s won.”

Twilight glanced at the small oaken table with the six wooden dolls on it.  She could not bear to let her eyes linger on the horrified faces of her friends and quickly looked away.

The baby dragon followed his mentor’s gaze.  “How about I put those . . . our . . . ,” Spike struggled to find the right words for the dolls without calling them dolls. “How about I put those away?” 

“Put them in the safe for now.  Thank you, Spike.” 

Her assistant nodded and hesitantly approached the table like he was about to lay a dear friend in a coffin. Before he could take another step, Spike felt a metal hand on his shoulder.  The little dragon looked up at the robot.

“It’s alright, lad.  We’ll bring em back.”  Without another word, the robot reverently picked up five of the six dolls.  “Just show me where you want them kept safe.”

Spike nodded and fought back the tears stinging his eyes.  He wrapped his talons around the doll that was left.  “Thanks, Willie.  You’re alright.  Bring them over here to this room, and if you don’t mind, could you look away while I open this.”

“Sure.”

Twilight watched the exchange between her assistant and Ernest’s creation.  It was still proof that the magic of friendship was just as powerful as ever and that there was still hope.  Steeling herself she turned herself to face the troll.

“He’s not dead.”

The troll blinked.  “What?”

“Ernest is not dead,” Twilight repeated. “He’ll be here with my brother and the rest of the Crystal Guard to put an end to this nightmare.”   

Rotnart chewed on this new revelation for several seconds.  “Why am I not surprised?” murmured the troll.  “I should have known Discord was pulling my leg.  I don’t think Ernest can die to begin with.”  He paused for a moment before continuing.  “We may have a shot after all.”

“We?!” shouted Spike from the other room where the safe was.  He poked his head out into the hallway and yelled, “You turned our friends into dolls.  There’s no ‘we’ here.”

“If you lose, I lose, genius.  I’m not saying we have to be buddies, but I need you and you need me. Now I can turn one of your friends back to the way they were as a show of good faith.  The rest are going to have to wait until you can get them inside that tree my brother took over.”

Spike hesitated and looked at the doll in his claws.  It was the Luna figure, darkly splendid in its frozen anguish. 

Willie looked at the baby dragon, knowing that he was considering the troll’s offer.  The automaton then regarded the open safe with the five dolls in it.  Seconds ticked by until at last Willie acted.  He closed the door, spun the combination lock, and then re-hung a portrait of a white alicorn with a red mane over the safe box.  

Finally, Spike broke the silence and stared hatefully at the pinned troll, putting his body in-between the doll and the monster protectively.  “You can’t expect us to believe a word you say.”

“Actually, lad, according to what my memory log is saying, he’s right.” 

All eyes turned to the robot as he glided out of the safe room on his rubber wheels.

“At least on the part about putting your friends in the tree and changing them back.  Old Lady Hackmore did the same thing with some dolls that were a couple of hundred years old.  Those kids walked out of the tree like they had just woke up from a long winter’s nap.”

Twilight glared at the troll and asked, “Why can’t you change them all back?”

“Because, ‘a’ I don’t want to.  And ‘b’ I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” asked the alicorn.

“I’d die.  It’s as simple as that.  That unicorn my dad used to work for made it so that it would be very hazardous to a troll’s health if he unmade too many dolls.  It’s a safety measure just in case an enterprising troll such as myself ever found himself in a position like mine bartering for his life.”

The Princess of Friendship regarded the pin-cushioned troll and said nothing. 

“Twilight . . . we can’t trust him,” stated Spike.  

The pony opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a syllable, the front door of the library burst open with a deafening “wham.” Twilight winced and fought the urge to blast whatever or whomever it was that had slammed open the entrance to the library.  

“Twilight?  Twilight!” a hysterical pony shouted.

“Over here!” called the Princes.

The noise of galloping hooves reverberated off the walls until Mayor Mare skidded to a stop in front of the Princess and her friends.  The Mayor’s jaw dropped in shock.  She had heard that the Princess of Friendship had been hard at work.  Rumor had it she was interrogating a captured troll and that Zecora had summoned something from a different plane.  But hearing about it and seeing them were two very different things.  

“Well, hello there.  My name is Rotnart, king of the trolls.  What’s your name?  Do you have kids?” asked the prisoner with fake jovialness.

The earth pony’s eyes took in the pinned troll and the giant robotic biped and could not decide which terrified her more at the moment.  

The alicorn sighed, her patience running thin.  “Ignore him.  I’ll explain everything later, Mayor.  Now, what is it?”

The elder earth pony tore her gaze away from the twin curiosities.  Panic laced her every word as she gave her message. “They’re everywhere.  Monsters, little monsters are terrorizing the town.” To add emphasis to her warning, a troll smashed through one of the upper windows of the library.  The pint-sized terrorist crash-landed into several bookcases, reducing some to splinters and damaging others.  The troll shook off the impact and lunged at the baby dragon. Just as Spike’s would be assailant was about to tackle him, the troll was caught in midair by a metal hand.  

“Not today, freak,” muttered Willie.  The automaton held the squirming troll in his grip long enough for two small cannons to deploy from a cavity in his dorsal housing.  Before the terrified abomination could snap his fingers and escape, the troll was doused in milk.  Nothing was left of the monster except a steaming pile of goo slipping through the A.I’s fingers.

Other trolls tried to enter through the hole made in the library, but a few well-placed bolts of energy from the alicorn dissuaded them from entering.

Spike covered his nose from the horrible stench.  “Thanks, Willie.  You might want to wash your hands th-----.”

“Look out!” cried Mayor Mare.  But her warning came too late, and one of the structurally compromised book cases came crashing down on top of the lavender dragon.

“Spike!” shrieked Twilight.  

Before Willie or the Mayor could lift the heavy furniture off their friend, Twilight threw the case away down the hall with her adrenaline fueled magic. The bookcase crashed against the far wall and shattered.  Twilight dug underneath the pile of heavy books and papers until she found her friend, breathing but unresponsive.  She nuzzled the lavender dragon and fought against the rising panic thumping in time with her heart.  “We got to get him to a hospital!  Now!” Twilight yelled hysterically. 

“I’ll take him,” volunteered the Mayor, scooping up Spike and putting him on her back.  The city official looked at Twilight.  “Don’t worry about Spike.  Protect the town; you’re the only one who can.”  She turned and looked at Willy.  “And you, protect her,” the Mayor said, pointing at Twilight.

“You got it, Governor,” the robot said.  “Come on Princess, we gotta move.”

Twilight took a calming breath, gritted her teeth, and galloped out of the library followed closely by her new bodyguard and the Mayor.

The voices of his goalers faded until the huge oak door slammed shut. Rotnart considered his predicament. From his vantage point he could see the head of the Princess Luna statue poking up from the pile of books on the floor. Her horrified eyes were staring directly at him.  He sighed, and said to the statue.  “Don’t look at me like that.”  




******************************



 


Utter pandemonium ruled the town of Ponyville.  The chaos unleashed by Discord a few years ago was dwarfed by the invasion of the furry midget monsters from the Everfree Forest. Ponies and trolls were running and flying in every direction.  Foals were being turned to dolls and taken into the forest faster than the monsters could be dispatched with milk.  Floating houses, ice cream missiles, and terror filled the night as anarchy ripped the town apart.  

A tiny pony in a pirate costume galloped down the alleys and streets of Ponyville.  His heart hammering in his chest, the pony knew he could not keep up this pace for much longer.  He looked around him to make sure none of the trolls in the air or on the ground were paying attention to him.  Spying a large lilac bush across the street in front of a sky-blue cottage, Pipsqueak took his chance and bolted straight at the plant.  He breathed a small sigh of relief as the scent of the purple flower filled his nose.  The foal’s respite was short-lived when two trolls landed on the roof of the cottage. 

Pipsqueak watched in horror as the hairy twitchy demons tore apart the house faster than a starving parasprite with their bare hands.  The scared ponies inside mercifully did not have time to comprehend what happened next.  One troll snapped her fingers.  The adult unicorns froze and morphed into ripe cherries still bearing equine looks of terror.  A second monster jumped down into the house, his massive tail twitching in anticipation. He pushed aside a large sofa to find a little pegasus cowering before him.  “No,” Pipsqueak mouthed silently, and willed the pony to fly away with all his might.  This was not to be.  The troll leered at the pegasus for a moment before grabbing the pony by the hooves. The troll laughed as he forced the foal to look upon her warped parents.  The tears forming in the youngling’s eyes froze when she was turned into a small wooden statue.  

Pipsqueak buried his face in his hooves and suppressed the sobs that wracked his body.  He did not grieve for long.  A twig snapped behind him.  He whirled around just as a little troll only slightly taller than he was charged at him.  With a yelp of terror Pip ducked under the laughing monstrosity.  His pirate hat was grabbed off his head when the troll sailed over him.  The hatless pirate scrambled out of his hiding place, trying to put as much distance between himself and the nightmare chasing him.  The troll garbled something at him and tittered.  Pipsqueak could hear the rapid stomping of the monster as it closed the gap between them.  The pony galloped across a road, not caring what direction he was running.  As soon as he crossed the street, he heard a deafening roar and then a loud crunch at his back.  He turned and saw a welcome sight. The Cutie Mark Crusaders garbed in their talent show regalia had arrived in their new machine that Scootaloo had built. The troll’s convulsing feet were sticking out of the engine compartment.  The new hole in the truck was ironically next to an older dent made by a large troll face. In spite of the dangerous situation he was still in, Pipsqueak could not help but wonder why Scootaloo had fabricated such an ungainly beast of a machine.  It looked like it was made for something four times her size.  

“Hey, Pipsqueak, you alright?” asked a familiar voice

The little foal tore his eyes off the truck and watched three fillies with waterguns climb out of the vehicle.

“Uh, yeah.  Thanks Crusaders.”  

Applebloom climbed up to the hood of the truck and shot the troll in the engine compartment.  The troll bubbled and melted all over the motor.  

Scootaloo joined her and pinched her nose.  “Celestia’s crown, those things stink.  And did you have to shoot him there.  This engine is fried for sure now with all that goo inside it.”

The earth pony filly shrugged.  “I’m pretty sure your truck was toast anyway with the crater that troll made.”  

“Hey, if you two are done up there, I could use some help.”

Pipsqueak watched Sweetie Belle soak a brace of small trolls.  The pirate rubbed his eyes.  No, it was the same troll bisected in half.  The half with the arms swore and cursed at the white filly while its legs tried to run away.  They did not get far.

“Sweet Luna, what’s in those water guns?”  Pipsqueak asked.

“Milk,” answered Sweetie Belle. “They are very lactose intolerant.”

“Here, catch,” said one of the Crusaders. 

Pipsqueak was nearly hit in the face with a pink water pistol.

“You know how to work one of those?” asked Scootaloo.

The small pony turned the girly toy over in his hooves.  “No.  We weren’t allowed to have anything fun in Trottingham.”

“You see that orange trigger there?  Just squeeze that,” instructed Apple Bloom.  

Pipsqueak obeyed and shot himself in the face with a stream of white liquid.  

“Face it forward.  And don’t waste your ammo,” scolded the orange pegasus.

“Sorry,” Pipsqueak said bashfully, his cheeks reddening.  “So where were you three going?”

“City Hall.  That’s where everypony our age is hunkering down until this mess is over.” answered the earth pony.  “That’s where Twilight and her robot pal are.”  

“Robot pal?” asked the pirate.  

Before the Crusaders could explain, a loud cry pierced the night. “Help!  Anypony!  Help!”

The four foals looked at each other.  “That’s Twilight.  She’s at the library,” declared the white unicorn. 

“But, we just saw her a minute ago on the other side of town.  How did she get back to her place so fast?” asked Scootaloo. 

“It doesn’t matter.  We gotta move,” replied Sweetie Belle.


 



******************************



 


“Help!  Anypony! Help!” Rotnart called, projecting his loud plea out the hole his cousin had made earlier.  Using the lavender alicorn's voice to cry for help was most unbecoming of a troll king, but under the circumstances . . . .  He also knew he was taking a risk by doing this, but he was getting tired of being pin cushioned to the table he was on.  The troll looked down at his body, the long thin pins lodged in his hide glinted in the moonlight.  He tried again to move his fingers and toes, nothing.  And all the while the half-buried Luna doll seemed to glare accusingly at him.  Rotnart sighed and drew breath to cry out again.

“What’s the matter, Troll King?  You seem to be stuck,” said a cold voice from above. 

The troll choked on the air that had gotten stuck in his throat.  His ears perked up as he moved his head around the room.  Seconds passed until finally a vaporous black cloud not unlike car exhaust floated down from the hole in the ceiling.  Dark laughter echoed from the black mass of air as it hovered in front of Rotnart. "Greetings, mighty Rotnart. We meet again," it said.

"Oh, sh!t," whispered the pinned creature.  He recognized the voice, and the evil being it belonged to.

The cloud morphed into a towering ebony monster that made the troll grow pale in dread.  "I'm surprised you yet live.  I would have thought either my spell would have ended you, or the ponies would have executed your filthy hide by now."

Rotnart shrugged as much as the pins in his shoulders would allow. "Well, Twilight and her gang thought I was just so cute and cuddly and so very good at making little statues they decided to keep me as a gardener.  This is a golden job opportunity for me.  I mean being king is hard work; no vacations, on call 24/7, you gotta tell everyone what to do all the time.  And since you were doing such a good job at backstabbing me and manipulating my brother, I thought to myself 'what's the point?  She has all the qualities of a ruler.  Why not just retire, and move to the country?'  I mean, have you seen this place?"

The alicorn nodded.  "Indeed. But you see dear Rotnart, you're supposed to be dead.  A martyr for the cause, my cause.  I can't disappoint your brother and your vile kin and tell them you’re alive when they have gracefully accepted your passing.  That would be so . . .  inconvenient for all of us.  Wouldn't you agree?"

Rotnart licked his lips and tasted the sweat pouring off his brow.  "I appreciate your position.  But is there anything I can do or say to make you reconsider my well-being?"

"I'm afraid not," the Pony of Shadow's horn glowed in black malice. "Any last words?"

"Yeah.  Eat $hi! and die, you fat F*#&king Cu*t W*#re."  Rotnart would have flipped her the bird with both hands, but instead he settled on spitting at her.  He hawked a big lugie her way, but he misjudged the angle, and the spit wad didn’t get anywhere near her.  

"Eloquent as ever," smiled the alicorn.  "Goodbye, peasant."

The troll watched as the ball of magic held at the tip of the pony's horn slowly came his way.  He braced for his inevitable end.  However, a white stream of liquid appeared out of nowhere and struck the alicon in the eye, breaking her concentration.  The gathered energy dissolved like melting ice.  

The Pony of Shadows roared, "What is the meaning of this?  Who dares assault my person?"

"Cutie Mark Crusaders Troll Fighting Division," howled four tiny costumed ponies armed with milk guns.  

The group of ponies emptied the contents of their weapons at the alicorn, but this was no troll they faced.  The Equestrians soon found that out when the last drop of milk from their guns was fired and yet their target still stood.  

The four scared ponies and the amused alicorn stared at one another. 

“Tell me,” said the Pony of Shadows.  “Did you bring me some candy for an offering so I don’t take your lives?” The black alicorn opened her mouth to reveal a set of very sharp teeth and a very long serpentine tongue.  

The Crusaders and Pipsqueak glanced at each other.  All four shook their heads, too afraid to speak.  

“A pity,” the ebony pony licked her lips.  “As much as I know Rabuf could use you four in his tree-hatchery, I can’t break tradition if candy is not provided.”

As the alicorn advanced on the helpless ponies, a great wad of green phlegm landed on the side of her face.  The area of her head that was not covered by her armor began to sizzle and cook. 

Nightmare Night gave an ear-shattering scream as she thrashed about the room in pain.  The pony pawed at her face with her shod hooves.  With a final hate-filled glare at Rotnart, she shot up into the air through the makeshift entrance in the ceiling. “This isn’t over,” she called down to the troll.

Rotnart smirked up at her disappearing form.  “It’s a date, bitch.”  The troll turned his gaze back to look at his rescuers only to find his vision filled with water guns pointed at his face.  

“Don’t move, troll,” said the unicorn.

The troll king gave the young pony a ‘Really?’ look but kept his mouth shut. He looked at the faces of his new captors until he found one he recognized.  “Oh, hey, Pipsqueak, how’s it goin?”

“Shut it, Rotnart.  Give me one good reason not to pull the trigger on this gun I just learned how to use.”  

“Because you’re dry.  I got a feeling we wouldn’t be having this talk if any of you four had any milk left in those Super Soakers.”   

“We can always get more,” said the earth pony through clenched teeth. She nearly had to bite off each word; she was so mad.

“Honey, I have no doubt,” replied the troll.  “However, I’d like to point out I just saved your lives a second ago.”

“Yeah, so?  We saved yours before that,” stated the pegasus.  “If we’d known you were here, we would have let The Pony of Shadows do her thing.  We thought Twilight was here.  We heard her voice.”

Rotnart squirmed under the scrutiny of the four children.  “Yeah, that was me.”

Sweetie Belle huffed her cheeks and stamped her hooves in frustration. She started looking into the various rooms and hallways.  “There’s gotta be some milk in here somewhere.”

“Check the fridge,” said Apple Bloom.  “Twilight always keep some around for her cereal.”

Sensing his life was about to be cut short, the troll started talking very quickly.  “Hey, hey, no need for that.  I got something better than milk.  Pipsqueak, turn around.  Princess Luna is on the floor right behind you.”

“What?” asked the little colt.  He spun around and sure enough, after shifting some books and papers, he found the alicorn doll.  His eyes widened as he picked up his favorite Princess.  The Crusaders drew in sharp breaths and stared at the sculpture.  

At this point the four foals took in the damage that had been done to the library.  “What happened here?” asked the little pirate.  “Why was Princess Luna left on the floor with the rest of this rubbish? And where are the other dolls you made?”

“The others were locked up in a safe.  I’ll explain all that later.  The important thing is I can change her back,” declared the troll.  “I can put Luna back the way she was, good as new.  Just take these pins out of me.”

The four ponies looked at each other and then looked at the doll cradled in Pipsqueak’s hooves.

Seeing the Equestrians hesitate, Rotnart growled with exasperation, “By Trantor’s hairy sack, not this again,” the troll sighed.  “Look, while we stand around and ask ourselves if this is ‘a good idea,’ and ‘will the nasty troll rape us when we let him loose?’ your buddies are being changed to dolls, and your parents . . . don’t get me started on the grownups.  Now you can either stand around and let your town get eaten, you can leave me here to die, go out there and get turned to dolls by some really bad hombres, or you can let me help you and maybe have a fighting chance of pulling through this thing in one piece.  I know which one I’d pick, but I’m not you.  Just make a choice.  I won’t hurt you.  There is nothing for me to gain by doing so.  I need friends, and I think you do too.”

Sweetie Belle was the first to break the silence after the troll’s speech. “I’m still going to find that milk. I’m thirsty.”
> Girthy Turds
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The monster erupted from the ground like lava from a volcano.  Molten earth and rocks rolled away from the mound freshly formed in the soil.  The creature beneath the small hill panicked at its sudden existence and self awareness.  “Must get out,” it thought.  

With a roar the creature tore open its birth sac and easily lifted itself out of the hole.  The monster breathed in the crisp night air and calmed itself. Moments later the memories came.  Memories that were not his own flooded into his mind.  He was a troll, a descendant from the Old World in the frozen north.  He recalled the moment when his ancestors swore allegiance to Sombra centuries ago.  His hands tightened around the haft of his weapon.  This caused the troll to start.  Was he born with this axe he now held?  The answer came quickly.  Yes. Yes, of course, the blessing bestowed by Sombra.  All children of the black unicorn would never be born helpless and would be able to fight after their first breath.  This weapon was as much a part of him as the tusks growing out of his skull, and in time, he would be as fearsome as Trantor.  The moment he thought of the unicorn’s champion he remembered the Great War. The war for the Crystal Empire where all but one of his kind fell to the Crystal Heart, but victory had been achieved. The enemy had been beaten and broken before the might of Sombra and Trantor.  The troll wiped the remnants of the afterbirth from his eyes and glanced around his surroundings.  

More trolls, dozens of them, were in the process of being born. But he was the first, the first true troll to be born in Equestria for centuries.  The creature stood taller as that revelation dawned on him.  He was home.  He was back in Equestria.  Even though he had never seen this place before with his own eyes, he knew where he was. But that would mean . . . Trantor was dead.  Rotnart. Trantor’s last earthling son fled back here to save what he could, to resurrect the empire.  But, something was wrong.  Was Rotnart dead too?  He did not know.

The troll turned to see a mighty tree warped to the needs of his race.  “Only one?” he thought.  He remembered through his ancestor’s shared memory of entire forests given over to the creation of Sombra’s unstoppable hordes and whole cities looted of their children to power the trees.  Those same trees that had birthed his great grandfathers were dead.  No tree could survive after giving its very life-force to feed his kin.  But this tree was different.  He could feel untapped power still radiating from its trunk.  Sure enough, new pods were forming where the old ones had fallen. The troll turned his attention to the tree’s base where he saw Rabuf stuffing dolls into a gap between some branches.  The name of the troll came to him as the last of the memories stopped flowing.  At last the river of shared knowledge had been dammed. In the future he knew his own memories would be viewed by the next generation of trolls.  This thought pleased the troll as he advanced to meet his leader.  

*************************************************************************************

Rabuf placed the last doll into the tree. Inside of the trunk were dozens of hollowed spaces for dolls to reside, but only a few were full.  He turned to look at his helper.  “Are we out of opossum dolls?”  

Hctorc Retib nodded, her tail twitching nervously. “Yes, Troll King.  The pon----, I mean the opossums are putting up a heck of a fight.  Apparently all the younglings we didn’t get are all hold up in the town hospital. There’s a powerful opossum there that’s put up a magic shield that we can’t get around.  Also all the opossum’s are armed with milk.”

The Troll King thought for a moment.  “What about the black opossum of the under-castle? Where is she at?  I bet she could get in if we asked her nicely and offered her a bowl of Ol’ Roy dog food.  Opossums love that stuff, right?”

The female troll shrugged and turned to some of her surviving brothers that were grazing on nuts and grass.  She caught the eye of one of the more attentive trolls and repeated the question.  The other troll shook his head and went back to eating.  “Apparently no one’s seen her recently,” answered Hctorc Retib.

Rabuf was silent for a moment.  He turned his back on his subordinate and regarded the corrupted tree of harmony.  “We have another card we could play in this game of cracker jacks.”  

The smaller troll gulped.  “You don’t mean surrendering yourself to the dark powers inside the tree do you?”

Rabuf recoiled in disgust.  “What?  Eww, gross. Screw that with a bat wrapped in pig mat.  Things would have to be a lot more FUBAR then they are now for me to even think about going into that thing.  What I meant was . . .”  At this moment Rabuf finally noticed the muscular troll with a great axe kneeling before him.  “Wow, this thing works fast,” declared Rabuf.  “I just put the first batch of dolls in a minute ago.  What’s your name, son?”

“Iruamas, my king,” answered the newborn troll. “Sire, allow me to sacrifice my soul and body for the glory of our race.  I would gladly do this for you, my lord, if it would mean final victory for our people.”

The Troll King shifted his weight from foot to foot.  “First of all, I love your Chutzpa.  It takes a special kind of suicidal enthusiasm to make it in this troll’s army. But I got a better idea.”  

*************************************************************************************

Minutes later, the newborn troll found himself surrounded by his brothers and sisters.  They were all looking down at a crude depiction of the town they would be attacking drawn in the ground with a stick.  

“There is a saying on Earth by this one guy in the far east named Clifford, or maybe it’s Corn-hole, or Confusion . . . yeah, I’m pretty sure his name was Confusion.”  Rabuf cleared his throat.  “One small dry turd made by a dog eating grass will not fertilize a food plot.  But many wet girthy turds created by a driver of an eighteen wheeler eating nothing but Taco Bell will destroy the plumbing of a city block.”  

Some of the slower trolls in the audience nodded at the sage advice of their leader.  Iruamas for his part asked, “What do you mean, Troll King?”

Rabuf circled the hospital with his pointer stick and declared, “You guys are the turds and you are going to clog that opossum’s sewer magic with your fat girthy bodies.”

The trolls cheered at that, none louder than Iruamas. 

Rabuf raised his hands for quiet.  When he had it, he drew the sword his brother had given him.  “Now are we clear on the plan?”

The army of trolls nodded.

“Good.”  The Troll King stepped forward and gave the sword to Iruamas.  The fearsome firstborn kneeled and reverently accepted the boon. 

“Now bring home some opossum babies.”

*************************************************************************************

Willie zoomed down the halls of the hospital on his rubber wheels, quickly checking the rooms for trolls as he went.  Not one of the monsters had broken through Twilight’s barrier, but it paid to be careful when dealing with Trantor’s spawn. The robot paused for a few moments outside Spike’s room.  Looking through the window he saw the hatchling’s head was covered in bandages. Near the dragon’s bed was Doctor Brighthoof and nurse Red Heart examining X-Ray scans of Spike’s cranium. The automaton considered zooming in on the scans and deciphering the data himself but rejected the idea. Sometimes there is salvation in ignorance.  Willie pressed his metal fingers against the glass and muttered a brief prayer.  

Carefully, Willie climbed the stairs to the roof of the hospital.  One hand gripped the railing while the other delicately held a glass of water.  Not for the first time tonight Willie was wondering why Ernest had not just given him metal feet instead of wheels.  At last he pushed the access door open and was greeted with an eerie silence, not even the wind could get through Twilight’s shield.  A violet hue tinted the night sky as Willie scanned the night for trolls, but the only things in the air were nervous pegasi.  

“Did you see anything?”

Willie turned his attention away from the heavens and carefully wheeled forward onto the sloping roof.  Thankfully the pony he was charged to protect was nearby. Standing on the central ridge of the Ponyville hospital was Twilight Sparkle.  Willie could tell the Princess was tired from the effort of keeping the force field up.  Sweat dripped off the pony’s mane as the alicorn focused her concentration on maintaining the barrier.  

“Naw, lass.  You’re doing a bang up job at keeping the wee devils out.”  The robot sat the glass infront of the alicorn and backed away.  

A tendril of magic formed from Twilight’s horn. Using a fraction of her skill she enveloped the glass with her magic and brought the water to her parched lips. After drinking greedily from the tall glass she asked, “How’s Spike?”

Willie paused and tried to quantify how to best answer the pony’s question.  “Don’t worry ‘bout him.  He’s in good hooves.”

For the first time in a long while Twilight opened her eyes and looked at her protector.  The pony’s watery eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion.  “I can’t lose him too, Willie.  I can’t loose anypony else tonight.”

“And you won’t.  Once Zecora comes back with me da, he’ll put everything back to right. You’ll see, dear.  There is nothing Ernest P. Worell can’t fix once he puts his mind to it.”

Twilight closed her eyes.  “I hope you’re right.  Thank you for the water.”

“You’re welcome.”  The robot paused not knowing what else to say.  Finally he settled on, “Well, I think I’ll walk the perimeter one more time and . . .”  The robot paused.  

“Willie?  What is it?”

“The roof, nay, the entire bloody hospital is shaking.  I can feel it down to the ground floor.”

From above, Willie could hear the sound of a pony being let through Twilight’s shield.  A Wonderbolt came swooping downwards, nearly colliding with the roof but still managing to land gracefully before the alicorn.  

“They’re coming; the trolls are coming from the East,” Spitfire stated grimly.  “Hundreds of them.”

For a moment the barrier shimmered and dissipated altogether before reforming.  The Princess fought down the fresh waves of panic threatening to break her concentration. Through clenched teeth she spoke to her bodyguard.  “Willie, get to the basement and protect the foals.”

The robot hesitated for a moment.  In the span of a few heartbeats he ciphered through all the possible variations of what could happen when the trolls attacked and where he would be best suited to put up the strongest defense.  “But . . .” the robot started to say.

“Just do it.  I’ll be fine.” snarled the alicorn.  “Go!”

Willie looked to the leader of the Wonderbolt for guidance.  The Pegasus nodded.  “They’ll have to get through us to get to her.”  

The robot gave Twilight Sparkle one last look of concern before climbing down into the bowels of the hospital.  

*************************************************************************************

They came down the dirt paths and cobbled stone streets of Ponyville, a screaming tidal wave of hate, muscle, and teeth. Unlike the previous wave of small nimble magic-wielding trolls, this next onslaught was a muscular juggernaut running through the town.  All the way from where the Everfree Forest met the outskirts of Ponyville to the hospital, the trolls died in droves.  The sorties from the winged ponies were relentless.  Cartons upon cartons of milk were dropped from the heavens to land on the charging monsters below.  The remnants of the dissolving trolls turned the dirt roads to mud, and still they came forward.  At last the first trolls to reach the hospital crashed against the Princess’s shield. They died mere inches away from the ponies waiting on the other side.  A phalanx of unicorns and earthponies nervously watched the slaughter on the other side of the barrier, clutching water guns and fresh gallons of milk. The trolls pounded on the purple barrier with everything they had, but not even their strength could dent the shield. But that was not their task. Their objective was never to breach the barrier that surrounded their prize.  Their task was a diversion, a show of raw power that any troll would have been happy to perform.  Iruamas did not have time to admire the sacrifice of his brothers and sisters. He and the remainder of the mutant chaos magic-using dwarves teleported from cover to cover underneath the very noses of the Pegasus that were dousing their comrades with milk.  Soon, the small strikeforce had made it to within yards of the hospital on the eastern side.  Iruamas eyed the barrier that sheltered the hospital appraisingly from the destroyed house he was taking cover in.  With a grace that defied his size and girth he drew Trantor’s sword from its sheath.  He looked at the faces of his small squad and said, “Once the shield is down search, the hospital and grab as many younglings as you can and get out.”  The dwarf-trolls nodded.  Iruamas slowly climbed out of his hiding place and advanced on the shielded building, first at a walk and then at a full sprint.  A war-cry clawed its way from his lungs when he brought the ancient weapon down on the Princess’s dome of magic.  

*************************************************************************************

The barrier shattered like broken glass. Great cracks and fissures travelled up and across the shield faster than an eye could blink.  The breaks and rents raced skyward until reaching the horn of Twilight Sparkle.  The Princess of Friendship screamed as the split in her shield fed back into her very soul where she drew upon her power.  As the shield cracked so did her magic, but still Twilight fought to rally her power.  It was a losing battle; she had nothing left to give.  After several brutal seconds of trying to reforge the shield around the hospital she collapsed, her head bouncing off the shingled roof.  She tried to rise, but her strength failed her, and with a final moan of anguish, her world went black. 

*************************************************************************************

The great obstacle that had thwarted the trolls was gone.  What trolls that had survived the pegasi bombardments surged forward, throwing themselves on their earthbound opponents.  The battle before the hospital was brief but brutal.  Trolls bowled over any pony that stood in their way, and many equines were turned to dolls.  But the Equestrians were just as determined to keep the trolls out and away from their children.  Soon, only the ponies were left standing as the last of the two-legged monsters were put down.  Their victory was short-lived, when cries of alarm arose from several voices.  

“What happened to the shield?” somepony asked.

“The Princess is down!” shrieked a pegasus. “She needs help!”

“Are trolls in the hospital?” yelled a unicorn stallion.  “Did any of them get in?”

“My babies!  I need to see my babies!” screamed an earth pony mother soaked in troll gore.

But before any of the defenders outside the structure could rush into the hospital, a new midnight blue barrier went up around the building.  The sound of blood-curdling laughter echoed down the halls.  The terrified mothers and fathers pounded against the dark shield, but like the trolls they slaughtered mere moments ago, not one of them got through.  

*************************************************************************************


Minutes ago at Twilight’s Library 


“This’d better work,” hissed Apple Bloom 

“Believe me, kid.  No one hopes this will work more than me,” replied Rotnart.  

The troll was looking down at the Luna doll seated in the center of an ink-drawn pentagram surrounded by lit candles.  Pip and the CMC had four refilled super soakers all pointed at the sweating troll.

Rotnart nodded to himself after gauging his handiwork. He stood there for a moment longer and gave a deep sigh.  “Now comes the hard part.”

“What do you mean?” ask Pipsqueak suspiciously.

“You’ll see.”  The true king of the trolls looked up at one of the upper rooms of the library. “That should do it.”  He started to make his way towards the stairs when Scootaloo blocked his way.  

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

“Do you want this blue bitch restored or not?” snapped the troll pointing at the wooden figure.  “For this ritual to work I have to give a bit of myself, blood bones you get the picture.  So I am going to jump off that ledge face first into the floor.  Do you have a problem with that?”

Scootaloo smiled evilly and stepped aside.  “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Rotnart exhaled through his huge hairy nose. “The things I do to stay alive,” he muttered.

“And Luna’s not a bitch, you fugly wanker,” Pip called after the troll.  

The old king made his way up the stairs to the wall-less room with a window that overlooked the lawn.  A small sofa was situated underneath the window where one could sit and read if they had wanted.  The troll turned to look down on the four children who were staring up at him expectantly.  

“Do a flip!” shouted Scootaloo.

The troll ignored the ponies and steeled himself. He took a deep breath and put his hands together like he was about to dive into a pool.  

“Wait!  Hold on a sec!” hollered Apple Bloom.  

“For the evil love of Trantor just let me do this, and it will be done!” Rotnart screamed.  

The yellow foal galloped down one of the halls and returned with a large bag of rocks.  The filly commenced to scatter the blunt and pointy objects all over the floor, much to the delight of the other kids.  Once the deed was done, Apple Bloom looked up at the troll and grinned. “Will this help?”

“Where’d you find those?” asked Pip.

“In a closet while we were looking for milk. Applejack has a bag just like it back at Sweet Apple Acres.  Pinkie Pie likes to hand out gifts from the rock farm.”  

Psyching himself up for what he was about to do, the troll took several deep breaths, clenched his jaw and his butthole, backed up as much as he could, and jumped over the edge.  “F*#k you guys!” He yelled, just before swan diving face first onto a blunt rock.

At the last moment, all the foals looked away just before the troll’s head connected.  There was a sickening crunch followed by profuse swearing.

The troll quickly got to his feet holding what was left of his face in his hands.  “Mother F*#$ker, F*#k me, this hurts like a G)d D*(n, Son of a *#$().” Rotnart’s vision swam when he looked down.  To his relief, he found some teeth, pieces of his shattered nose, copious amounts of blood, and a pool of troll saliva that was in the process of slowly melting through the floor.  The troll wasted no time in gathering up the pieces of his smashed face and placing them in the pentagram by the Luna doll.  

“Are you okay?” asked Sweetie Belle

“Fine, great, fantastic,” answered the irate troll. Once the wounded Rotnart was done arranging the pieces of himself, he rose and was met by the unicorn.  She was offering him a handkerchief with her magic.

The troll grabbed the fabric and held it to his face.  “Thanks,” he murmured. 

After dabbing at his wounds, Rotnart brought his index fingers and thumbs together to create a triangle.  He brought the triangle up to his dominate eye and advanced on the pentagram to where his feet were all but touching the outer ring. “For this next part, ladies and gent, you might want to close your eyes and cover your ears.  It’s about to get weird in here.”

“No way!” shouted the earth pony.  “We’d be completely helpless.”

“You’d turn us into dolls the second we’d close our eyes,” declared Scootaloo.  

Never breaking eye contact with the alicorn figurine, the wounded creature replied, “Do you foals really think I’d doll you after I went through all this trouble?”  

“Yes!” yelled Pipsqueak.  “You were going to turn me into a doll a while ago.”

“That was different,” Rotnart replied defensively. 

“How?” asked Sweetie Belle.  

The troll hesitated.  “Okay, you got me there.  But like I said earlier, we need to be friends right now to beat the Pony of Shadows.  And as a gesture of our new friendship, I am telling you to protect yourself from what I’m about to do.  It won’t be fun to watch or listen to.  In fact, if I were you, I’d find another part of the library to hunker down in until this is over.  But whatever, it’s your call.  I’m just trying to keep you four from going insane from witnessing the dark magics I’m about to unleash to undo Luna’s prison.” 

The four friends glanced at each other nervously.  

“I gotta go,” Pip said in a strained voice.

“What?  Where are you going?”  asked Apple Bloom.

“Oh, sorry, I gotta poop pretty badly.  I might be a while.  You guys go ahead.  I’ll be right back.”

The troll shrugged, “Smart lad.  Anyway if no one else needs to take a piss, I’m going to start now.  And don’t come crying to me if anyone goes bat-#*$t crazy.  I warned you.”  Without further fanfare or warnings Rotnart began his ritual.  

*************************************************************************************

During this time Rotnart never broke eye contact with the Luna statue.  He just stood stock still, hands raised in the form of the triangle, never stopping his chant.  The infernal words poured from his mouth, each one chipping away at the alicorns prison. The descendant of the beast of Briarville continued in this manner for over a minute.  The Equestrians watched and listened expectantly, but as time went by they became increasingly disillusioned.

“What’s he doing?” whispered Sweetie Belle.

“I don’t know,” replied Apple Bloom.  “But whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to be workin.”

“It’s not too late to shoot him, is it?” asked Scootaloo.  “He’s just wasting our time.”  

As if in response to the pony’s criticism, Rotnart’s voice slowly rose in volume.  Perspiration formed on the troll’s upper lip and forehead and ran down his ruined face, but still the creature chanted.  The soft glow that the candles were emitting began to dim all at once. 

“Guys,” Scootaloo said nervously.  “Something’s happening.”  The little pegasus brought up her water gun and aimed it at the troll. 

With great care, Sweetie Belle brought her hoof down on the scared pony’s milk weapon.  “Let him finish.”

Bit by bit, second by second, the monster’s voice rose, and the shadows lengthened.  

Sweetie Belle could feel pressure building behind her eyes.  She blinked and tried to clear her mind but the tension was still there and was getting worse.  To her side she could hear muffled whimpering.  She turned to see Apple Bloom on the floor crying, slowly rocking herself back and forth.

Laying her pistol on the floor, the unicorn threw her hooves around her friend, “Apple Bloom, what’s wrong?”

“I . . . don’t . . . know,” the earth pony heaved. “The . . . the music.  C-cant you h-hear it?  It’s . . . it, i--, it’s j-- just so s-- sad.”

“Music?  I don’t hear any mus--.”  The unicorn looked over at her untrustworthy ally.  The troll’s eyes were radiating magic.  Dark magic.  Purple, green, and black hues intertwined, bleeding out like liquid fire from the troll’s eyes.

“Cover your ears!  Close your eyes!  Don’t look at him!”  But she could barely hear herself talk.  The pressure in her skull had transformed into a migraine.  An increasing white-static noise was growing in her ears. 

“It’s all his fault!” somepony screamed.  “He’s the reason I can’t fly.  He’s why Rainbow Dash never hangs out with me anymore.  He needs to die!” 

Sweetie Belle whirled towards the small voice she could barely make out.  Her heart stopped in her throat.  There was Scootaloo pointing a watergun full of milk at Rotnart.  The white unicorn let go of Apple Bloom and advanced slowly towards Scootaloo.  The pegasus trembled with rage.  Blood vessels had burst in both her eyes giving her a demonic persona.  The orange pony’s weapon shook as she slowly curled her hoof around the trigger.  “I’m ending this now.”

“No!” yelled Sweetie Belle.  Throwing caution to the wind, she tackled her angry friend. She could taste the milk after Scootaloo had jerked back the trigger.  Using her magic to supplement her strength, Sweetie Belle wrenched the pegasus’s weapon out of her hooves and threw it across the room.  Scootaloo replied with a right hoof to her friend’s stomach.  “Traitor!” shouted Scootaloo.  “You’re no better than that filthy troll.”

Tears streamed down the unicorn’s face from the pain in her gut and in her head.  “Cover your ears,” she half whispered and half moaned.  “It’s the dark magic.  Fight it, Scootaloo.”

“You’re pathetic, troll lover,” replied the raging filly.  “What did you say?  Squeak up.” 

Before Sweetie Belle could reply, a pony garbed in pirate regalia, wearing two eye patches came up behind the mad pony and replied, “G’night matey.”  The next thing Scootaloo knew, a vice-like hoof was squeezing the muscle where her neck and shoulder met.

Sweetie Belle watched Pipsqueak lower the now sleeping Scootaloo down to the floor.  The little foal felt around the orange pony’s face.  When he found what he was looking for, he proceeded to stuff pieces of cotton into Scootaloo’s ears.  The little pirate lifted his eye patches for a brief moment to look at Sweetie Belle.  He carefully made his way over to her and gave her a few more tuffs of cotton.

The white unicorn quickly rolled the cotton up into a little ball before putting it into her ears.  The pain in her skull ebbed.  She shielded her eyes from the troll while slowly walking over to where the pirate was tending to Applebloom.  “Let’s grab these two and go to a different room,” she shouted. 

Pipsqueak nodded.  

With her ears blocked, Applebloom calmed down considerably and was able to help her friends move Scootaloo to a different part of the library.  

When they were about as far away from the troll as they could get while still remaining in the library the group relaxed a little.  The first thing Sweetie Belle asked was, “How did you learn to do that?” she said pointing to Scootaloo.  

The little foal’s cheeks reddened.  “I, uh, I read a lot of star trot.  This alien named Spork uses a neck grab that knocks ponies out.  It doesn’t hurt them, it just puts them to sleep.  This is the first time I’ve tried it out.”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom looked at each other. The yellow earth pony wiped away the last of her tears and smiled.  “W-Well, I’m g-glad it worked.”

“Me too,” replied the pony from Trottingham.

“Hey, where’d you get the cotton from?” asked the unicorn.  

“Let’s just say I owe Twilight Sparkle a new pillow. As soon as I heard Rotnart start his babbling, I saw sinister things moving in the shadows while I was on the toilet.  So I snipped it off, pulled up me pants, and got out of there.  I was close to the bedroom, so I tore open one of Twilight’s pillows and stuffed the filler in me ears.”

Apple Bloom blanched.  “That’s good thinking.  But I think I could have done with a little less information.” 

The three young ponies chatted on and off until Apple Bloom reached up and took out the cotton in her ears.  “Hey, you guys here that?”

Sweetie Belle and Pipsqueak stopped talking and unblocked their ears.

“I don’t hear anything,” replied the little pirate.  Then it dawned on him.  “Luna’s mane! I don’t hear anything.  Is that ugly git done?”

Apple Bloom rose and hefted her water gun. “Only one way to find out.”

Sweetie Belle nodded.  “I’ll go with you.”  She turned her attention to Pipsqueak after checking the ammunition in her weapon. “You stay here with Scoots.  We may need you to rescue us again if we’re not back soon.”

The pretend pirate saluted.  “Yarr, you can count on me, ma’am.”

Both Crusaders gave the little stallion a hug before leaving, much to Pipsqueak’s shock.  

“We owe you one, Pip,” said Sweetie Belle. 

“We wouldn’t be here without ya,” declared Apple Bloom.

“Uh, err.  Thanks girls.  I, I, I just did what anypony else would’ve done,” replied the stunned pony as he awkwardly hugged the girls back. 

The two Crusaders let their rescuer go and slowly opened the door to the room they were sheltering in.  Slowly, the ponies crept forward, low and slow.  Weapons at the ready they advanced to the center of the library, a soft blue glow lighting their way.  The pair halted in the doorway and gasped in surprise at the same time.  

Rotnart was not the same as when the Crusaders had left him.  His arms were no longer outstretched and his hands no longer formed the triangle where he had focused his power.  To the two ponies gazing at him, it looked like he would never move again.  A life-size wooden statue was on his knees, fully prostrated before a wrathful goddess.  Rotnart’s hands were on the ground, palms down.  His entire body bowed before a fully restored blue alicorn. Luna was glaring down at the wooden troll in unveiled hatred, her horn glowing in violent majesty, ready to be unleashed on her tormenter.  She turned her head when she heard the gasps of the two fillies.  Seeing the fear on the faces of her two little subjects she closed her eyes and slowly dissipated the magic she had been gathering.  With a voice dripping with scorn she commanded, “Get out of my sight.  I’ll deal with you later.” 

Head still bowed the troll rose, his wooden joints creaking in protest.  Slowly, awkwardly, Rotnart placed one foot in front of the other like he was learning to walk anew.  He stumbled a few times but never quite fell.  Using the wall and doorframe for support, he left the ponies to themselves. 

Sweetie Belle watched the changed being with a mixture of curiosity and worry.  But before she could ask a question, she felt her body lift up into the air and was enveloped in one of the warmest hugs she could remember.  

“Oh, my sweet little ponies. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize the evil that had befallen your fair town sooner.  But fear not, this nightmare will be over soon.” She sat the ponies down and asked. “Now tell me everything that’s happened since my internment.  Judging by the state of Twilight Sparkle’s library, I would venture that more trolls are afoot.”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom regaled the Princess about the events that had happened since she had been turned into a doll.  The two crusaders were soon joined by a very happy Pipsqueak and a groggy Scootaloo.  

The alicorn listened intently until her subjects got to the part where they rescued Rotnart from the Pony of Shadows.  Luna’s eyes widened in shock.  “She is here?  These are woeful tidings indeed.  I will find her and deal with her personally and put a stop to my past sins once and for all.”  The Princess’s horn flashed a dark blue, and her eyes became two pools of starlight.

“Oi, Princess.  What’re you doing?” asked Pipsqueak.  

“Hush, friend Pipsqueak.  I am trying to find that piece of myself that calls itself the Pony of Shadows.  She cannot hide from me.”

The dreamscape of Ponyville unfolded before the Princess of the night like a book.  Her spirit soared above the town like a hawk looking for its prey.  The inhabitants of Ponyville appeared to Luna as islands of white light in a sea of midnight.  The majority of the village’s population had gathered around the hospital. Their auras blazed like flames as they beat and wailed against a sinister black sphere of magic surrounding the building of healing.  “There you are,” muttered Luna.  There were ponies inside the hospital, and little dots of lights in the basement representing children.  Luna’s breath caught in her throat when she saw bright blood-red flashes of light running through the lower levels of the building heading towards the basement. “Oh, no.”  

With all the speed she could muster, she flew her dream-self back to Twilight’s library.  All the while an evil rancid laughter followed her, dogging her with each flap of the wing.  “Come to me my sister-twin.  Come. I have waited so long for you.”
> An Irish Lullaby
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ernest stared open-mouthed out of the sky-carriage’s window.  His head was right beside Rimshot’s as both man and dog took in the night sky of Equestira in all its majesty.  The company had flown past the frozen north of the Crystal Empire and were now gliding through the midnight-green fields and forests of Celestia’s domain.  It was too cold in the Crystal Empire to fully enjoy the view, but now free from the ice and snow, the horizon brimmed with wonders.  

“Ain’t this something, boy? It’s not every day you get to fly on Halloween.  Not as many witches up here as I thought there’d be though.  I wish Vern could see us now.  He’d be super jealous.”  

Rimshot’s asnswering bark was nearly lost to the wind whipping past their ears.

Ernest waved and called out to the dozens of other carriages and chariots ferrying soldiers from the Crystal Empire.  Some of the pegasi smiled and waved back.  Others just stared at the gangly creature riding in the Prince’s carriage.

“Give ‘em heck, boys. I’ll see ya on the ground.  We’ll show those stuntties who’s boss.”  The redneck continued on like this until he felt a tapping on his shoulder.  Ernest looked to see a very nervous Sunset Shimmer beckoning him to come back inside. The troll fighter pulled his head back through the window into the spacious compartment he shared with his pony friends.  Shining Armor’s enclosed carriage was the size of a compact train car with plenty of room for passengers to stand and stretch.   “What’s wrong, Sunny?”

“Now that we’ve crossed the Crystal Mountains, we’re getting radio transmissions from Ponyville.”

Ernest felt ice form in his belly.  “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the news?  One being clear weather overhead with a 0% chance of trolls, ten being we’re near the eye of a trollicane.”

The unicorn paused to consider this, and then shook her head.  “I don’t know.  It’s bad. The messages are choppy, but from what I heard, the trolls have captured enough children to raise an army and assault the town directly.   A lot of trolls are attacking Ponyville hospital where the foals are sheltering.  The mayor is calling for help from anyone who can give it.”

Before Ernest could reply, Shining Armor and Zecora entered the compartment.  The white unicorn looked like he had aged a decade in just a few minutes.  He took a seat in one of the booths and started to drum his hooves against the table in front of him.  In a low tone he muttered, “My sister was shielding the hospital.  Just as the last of the trolls were being turned to goo, her spell collapsed and fed back into her horn.”

Sunset Shimmer gasped in shocked horror.  “Is she alright?”

“Nopony knows.  A black barrier is blocking anypony from entering or leaving the hospital.”

The Prince locked eyes with the Troll Fighter.  “You’ve fought these things before, Ernest.  What are we dealing with?”

The Redneck fidgeted. “Ohhh, the ones I met didn’t bother with shields.  They had weapons and could change their voices like one of those Walmart Yak-baks.   But that was so they could get close to ya.  So they could use their hands, like a wild mongoose . . . except a mongoose doesn’t want to turn ya into a doll, ya know what I mean?”

“It would be best if you could get to the end, so our strategy we can amend,” Zecora said gently.

“Oh, right,” Ernest said sheepishly.  “The point is trolls always want to either fight ya close up or turn ya into a fancy door stop.  If you ask me, these little snot covered gremlins are getting help.  Magic shields aren’t really their forte.”

The white unicorn chewed on this information for a moment before speaking.  “From what I’ve gathered there are two different species of trolls attacking Ponyville.  One type matches what you’ve described, Ernest.  They attacked a fortified position until they were all destroyed. The other type is small, wiry, and cable of using magic.  Very chaotic magic.  In fact, no two attacks seem to be alike.  Does that sound familiar?” 

The orange unicorn pondered this for a moment.  “Discord? Could Discord be helping the trolls?” asked Sunset Shimmer.  

“I do not think that is the case.  Discord would not want to see Ponyville erased,” the zebra ventured.  

“Who’s Discord?” asked Ernest.  “Is he an electrician?  Always repairing dat cord or dis cord.”

Shining Armor shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a snicker of mirth.  “I’m sure you’ll get to meet him before this night is done.”  The white unicorn sobered.  “There’s another problem.  I don’t know how much I believe this, but you three should know.”  

Rimshot barked indignantly.

“Sorry, Rimshot. Excuse me, you four should know.  I have been receiving frantic reports of sightings of a black alicorn around the town. Everypony who has mentioned this thing is calling it Nightmare Moon.”

Zecora frowned.  “But this cannot be. Princess Luna has been turned into a doll, you see.”

“Wait a second,” said Sunset.  “The Tree of Harmony is nearly underneath the Castle of the Two Sisters.  Could the trolls have wandered into the old castle and awoken something?”

The Prince thought for a moment.  “You’re talking about the Pony of Shadows legend, the last remnant of Nightmare Moon after she was banished by Celestia.”

The orange unicorn’s lips pressed together into a thin line.  “What if it’s not a legend?  What if the trolls are in league with her and are making her stronger?” 

The leader of the Crystal Empire’s armed forces sighed.  “Then our job just got a lot harder.”  

*************************************************************************************

“Over in Killarney, many years ago,
My mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way,
And I’d give the world if she could sing that song to me this day.

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Hush now, don’t you cry.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
It’s an Irish lullaby.

Oft in dreams I wander, to that cot again
I feel her arms a-hugging me as when she held me then.
And I hear her voice a-hummin’ to me as in the days of yore
when she sued to rock me fast asleep outside the cabin door.

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Hush now, don’t you cry.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
Too-ra-loo-ra-li
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral
It’s an Irish lullaby.”

The robot’s Irish brogue trailed off as the last note of the song settled on the lethargic children.  Willey smiled at the costumed foals gathered around him in a semi-circle.  He stroked the mane of a nearby filly and whispered, “Go to sleep now, lass.  It’ll all look better in the morning.”  

The sleepy pony dressed in a ladybug costume nodded tiredly and whisked off to dreamland.

The automaton stood up on his wheeled feet, careful not to disturb the fillies and colts.  He heard a hushed sob by the exit to the day-care.  The robot looked up to see Big Mac shedding tears unashamedly.

“That was beautiful,” the massive earth pony dribbled.  

The image on Willey’s monitor smiled.  “Thanks. I didn’t realize I had an adult audience.”  The robot eyed the distraught pony and said, “Come, let’s have a talk outside and let these wee ones get some shut-eye.”

The strong pony nodded and wiped his nose on a massive hoof.

There were other ponies armed with milk down in the basement of the hospital.  Those who saw the large pony in tears respectfully turned their heads and gave the automaton and Applejack’s brother as much privacy as they could. 

As soon as Willie and Big Mac were outside the room and as far away from listening ears as they could get, the Clydesdale spilled his soul to Twilight’s bodyguard.  “My grandma and Applejack got turned into dolls earlier tonight, and I don’t know where my other sister is.  She’s probably with her other friends, but I haven’t seen her in a spell.  I want to look for her, but I can’t just blindly search the whole town and turn my back on these other kids.  Not while there are still trolls out there.  I don’t know what to do.  My parents are gone, and that song you were singing to those foals plucked at my heartstrings something fierce.”  The earth pony stifled a sob.  “I’m . . . sorry.  I swear I’m not this much of a wimp on a good day.” 

“It’s alright, lad.  Lord knows you’re not the only one weeping tonight. There is no shame in it.  But I would not fret about your wooden kin-folk. My da is coming to set things right. He’s dealt with these devils before and turned all the dolls from our native sod back to right.  I wasn’t just tootin my own horn in there and telling the wee ones false.  Once Ernest P. Worrell is back in town, things will fall in place.”  The robot paused before continuing.  “As for your sister, I wouldn’t worry.  If she is anything like her brother, I pity any troll that gets in her way.”

Big Macintosh laughed at that.  He looked at Willie and said, “I can’t believe that clumsy, gangly, two-legged, denim-wearing varmint built ya.”

This time it was the robot’s turn to laugh.  The yellow smiley face opened its mouth and threw back its head in mirth.  “You’re not the only one who’s told me that down here. I guess he didn’t make a convincing pony, did he?”

“He fooled most of us while he was here, but not everypony.  I had no clue he was a genius though.  That someone like him could make something as great as you just blows my mind.”

“Believe it, my friend. When it comes to my da, no one knows what to expect.  Faith, I’m his creation, and I have not a clue how he made me.  God, alicorns, and Ernest work in mysterious ways.”

“Amen to that,” replied Big Mac.  The Clydesdale cleared his throat and said, “Well, I’d best be getting back to the others.” The big pony hesitated for a moment before bringing up his hooves and shaking one of the metal hands of the robot. “Thanks for listening, Willie.”

“You’re welcome.” Willie watched the large pony leave around the corner before starting on his own patrol around the basement.  The lower-halls of the hospital were not as well lit as the floors above, but even so Ernest had blessed his creation with ways to combat the dark areas.  Willie’s servos hummed softly as he made his winding way around the cavernous basement. The robot paused when his internal radio came to life with chatter.

“Big Mac, do you have a copy?”

“Yeah, go ahead Braeburn.”

“I’m here by the elevator and the stairs leading back up . . .”

Willie would have listened more to the radio conversation, but something caught the attention of his rear sensors.  He turned to look back down the hallway but nothing was there.  He frowned.  His monitoring equipment had never given him a false positive before.  A feeling close to dread settled in the robot’s mainframe. He could not quite put his finger on it, but it felt like he was being watched.  To test this theory Willie slowed to a stop infront of one of the many doors that littered his section of hallway.  He turned down the volume of his radio and boosted the power to his auditory nodes.  He made as if to reach out and open the door, then at the last moment he whirled around to see if anything was behind him.  His optics told him nothing was there, but his intuition told him he was not alone.  For half a heartbeat he thought he saw something, something that didn’t belong, something very ugly.  He devoted more processing power to scour his recent memory.  In what passed for his mind’s eye, he relived the last thirty seconds of his life up to the moment he looked over his shoulder to catch his would be stalker.  Frame by frame he ciphered through the images captured by the tiny cameras located just underneath for what passed as his head.  Not for the first time he questioned the design of his body.  More cameras would have been helpful, but as Vern would say, “Them’s the breaks.”  Before Willie could perform any other task, his self-query was done.  His usual smiley face emote that was plastered on the front of his monitor turned grim.  “I knew it,” he muttered to himself.  The last frame captured by his cameras depicted a small grinning troll. The monster was not unlike the one he had encountered in Twilight’s library; a squat, demonstrable thing with barely intact garments.  But the power behind those small gnarly hands was something to be reckoned with.

Willie sped off through the hospital at full speed, his tires spinning in place leaving tread marks on the tiled floor.  He had to get back to the children and tell Big Mac and the others.  The trolls had breached Twilight’s shield and were in the hospital.  With one fluid motion he reached for his radio and broadcasted the bad news.  “All ponies fall back to the nursery.  I repeat, fall back to the nursery.  The trolls are here in the basement.”    


*************************************************************************************


Big Macintosh marched back to the stairs that led out of the basement.  His step was lighter since talking to the robot, but his heart was still heavy. Willie’s words had cheered him up, but could one lanky human really fix a mess this big?  Could Ernest P. Worell turn everpony back to the way they were? He doubted it, but stranger things had happened.  The big pony was roused from his musings when the small radio he had holstered hissed to life.  “Big Mac, do you have a copy?”

The Clydesdale fumbled for the walkie-talkie.  “Yeah, go ahead Braeburn.”

“I’m here by the elevator and the stairs leading back up . . . uh.”  The pony hesitated before his choppy, country voice came back on the air. “Is Twlight supposed to be blocking us off down here?”

Big Mac frowned at the radio.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean that there’s this blackish magic forcefield keeping me from goin up the stairs or using the elevator. Is Twilight or some other unicorn keeping us down here and we just didn’t get the memo?”  

The large pony ground his teeth.  He didn’t like the sound of this.  He pressed the transmit button and replied, “Standby.  I’ll try and raise Spitfire.”

Adjusting a knob on his radio he changed the frequency.  “Spitfire, are you reading?”  No answer. He tried again.  “Mayor Mare, do you have a copy?” Static was his only answer. Big Mac bit back a curse as he readjusted his radio to talk to Bareburn.  “This is Mac.  I can’t get anyone from the outside.  Stay there, I’m coming to you.”  

Before Big Mac could take a step in his cousin’s direction, Willie’s voice blared from his radio. “All ponies fall back to the nursery. I repeat, fall back to the nursery.  The trolls are here in the basement.”

The huge earth pony felt the all too familiar sensation of ice shoot up his spine.  He whirled to gallop back down the passage only to be faced with a small snarling troll.  The creature screamed at the top of its lungs and lunged forward.  The troll’s maw opened to reveal a set of enormous buck teeth that could easily snap a pony leg in two.  Big Mac jumped over the biting monster and haphazardly fired his milk gun at the troll in mid air.  The pony missed his shot and was rewarded with a splatter of milk on the tiled floor. While still airborne, the troll snapped its fingers and teleported.  The living nightmare reappeared just in front of Big Mac.  The pony jumped backwards just out of reach of the creature’s very sharp fingernails.  The Clydesdale fired from the hip and shot the troll between the eyes.  After just a few seconds the troll was reduced from a short, twitchy, monster to an orange and brown puddle.  Big Mac did not savor his victory but continued down the hallway towards the nursery at a full gallop.    

It did not take long for the big pony to reach where the children were sleeping.  To the pony’s horror, he saw several wooden dolls on the floor along the way.  Each one depicted a pony he knew frozen in either anger or fear.  Big Mac skidded to a stop outside the nursery and opened the door, water gun at the ready.  To his surprise, the earth pony was met with a deluge of milk.  The stallion was soaked from mane to hoof before he could say a word.  After a few sputtering attempts he yelled, “Cease fire!”  Immediately the milk storm stopped.  After wiping his eyes with a soaked hoof, Big Mac saw Willie staring at him sheepishly.  

The robot quietly came up to the stallion and whispered, “Sorry, lad.  Couldn’t take any chances.  If you weren’t a troll, I didn’t figure you’d melt anyway.”  

“Nope,” replied Big Mac. He looked around the room.  To his surprise, he found three puddles of goo in various places around the well-lit room.  What was even more surprising was that the children who were huddled together in the center of the room were still sound asleep.  

“Is anyone else out there besides those two-legged furry devils?” 

The earth pony shook his head.  “I don’t know,” he muttered in a low voice.  “I passed by a lot of dolls out there.”

Willie nodded grimly. He went over to a nearby table that had a gallon of 2% milk on it.  While he was reloading his cannons the lights went out, plunging the room into total darkness.  He heard Big Mac’s startled grunt as the shock of what just happened set in.  The lights were not the only thing that died. The omnipresent sound of the white noise generators in the basement went silent.  The absolute quiet save for the snoring foals was grating to the robot’s senses.  Something was very wrong here.  

“The little bastards must have cut the power to the emergency generators,” said Willie.

“Eyup.”

“Hold on.  I’ll turn on some lights here in a jiffy.”  The robot moved his metallic fingers along the unfolded keyboard housed in his chest. 

Running a subroutine in his mainframe, Willie checked his battery life.  The number that was reported back to him wasn’t good.  He had left Canterlot High with 89% charge, he was now down to 17.4%. The constant fighting and running had taken its toll.  He had tried to plug himself in to one of the power outlets that were common throughout the hospital, but the outlets in pony land were incompatible with his equipment, and there were no adapters in sight.  He did a quick calculation and predicted he had about 45 minutes left on his battery, assuming he kept activities like fighting trolls down to a minimum.  He smiled ruefully to himself.  “Not bloody likely that’s going to happen,” he muttered.

“How’s it going overthere, pony, . . . uh, I mean partner?” asked a voice.  

“Could be worse.  But . . .” What passed for Willie’s heart launched up what passed for his throat.  Whoever asked that question, it wasn’t Big Mac.  The voice was nearly identical, but to Willie’s ocular receptor, there was enough of a difference to raise a red flag.  Without thinking Willie turned on every light source he had to illuminate the room.  Battery be damned.  The foals on the ground stirred and woke to a scene straight out of their nightmares. Before the terrified children was the tallest, most muscular troll ever seen in hundreds of years.  The monster was flanked by much smaller mutant trolls that chattered and twitched below his knees.  In the monster’s meaty hand was a doll of Big Macintosh with a comically small super soaker. 

The robot was fast. Willie brought up his weapon with a dexterity any pony would have been proud of.  But the troll was faster.  Like greased lightning the troll stepped forward and sliced off the milk cannons mounted on Willie’s back with a keen blade.  The robot smiley face was no longer smiling.  In fact the face’s jaw had dropped as it looked at the stumps of where his primary weapons had been.  Milk was splashing everywhere from the ruptured hoses that had fed his milk cannons. He tried to aim the wild streams at the trolls, but to his disbelief, the smaller trolls were snapping their fingers and bringing up their own magical shields that not only protected them, but also the big troll that was standing there staring at him in contempt. 

“These trolls know what they’re doing,” Willie thought with grudging respect.  Willie backpedaled to the other end of the room and revved up his internal power plant to dangerous levels.  He charged forward on his worn tires.  If he couldn’t dispose of these troll with milk, then he would try it the old-fashioned way: with his fists.  

The foals cheered for their protector as he made his last desperate charge.  But quickly those cheers turned into cries of alarm.  The troll stood watching his opponent close the distance.  With casual grace the muscular troll ducked under the automaton’s punch.  With a victorious cry the monster wrapped his arms around Willie’s midriff and slammed him into the ground.  The tile and concrete underneath the robot was pulverized. Trolls and ponies alike dodged out of the way of pieces of debris that included chunks of the robot’s chassis and frame.  

Willie lay shattered and bleeding in the crater his body had made in the floor of the hospital.  His vision was splintered.  It was a miracle he could see at all.  “This must be what an insect would see before it was swatted,” he thought to himself as the massive troll glared down at him.  Willie looked at the foals behind the mammoth monster, and in spite of his mortal wounds, he tried to rise.  He knew that his motherboard had broken in half and knew that his positronic brain accelerator and flux capasitor were destroyed, but still he tried to get up and protect the children.  Those same children were being turned to dolls before his eyes.  His sundered body rose an inch off the ground before falling back to earth.  

“Don’t worry, metal man. Their souls will be put to good use. They will spawn a race so powerful that none will . . .”

Willie laughed a sparking, faulting laugh.  With his rasping metallic voice he uttered four words.  “My father . . . *bzzzt*  *crack* is . . .  *bzzzt* coming.”  

The face on the monitor closed its eyes and shut down.

Iarumas stared down at the robot’s carcass.  He pondered its last words for a moment and shrugged.  He had more pressing concerns.  The troll looked back at his small troupe and smiled wickedly.  Dozens of small pony dolls filled the arms, sacks, and pockets of his remaining followers.  “Good,” the massive troll grunted.  “It’s time to go.”
> Battle Above the Clouds
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lurking in the shadows unbeknownst to the trolls was a black cloud of magic.  The tiny nimbus hovered above the floor watching the victorious trolls collect their wooden trophies.  The cloud momentarily turned its attention to the fallen robot in the center of the room.  “Such a waste,” it thought.  The Pony of Shadow’s mouth twisted in disgust.  With but a thought from the alicorn, the cloud glided to get a better view of the metal guardian.  She could have used this steel golem, subverting its will with her own. It would have made a more suitable vessel then these near mindless tree monsters.  

The Pony of Shadows considered leaving her barrier up to prevent the more magically inclined trolls from teleporting away from the hospital.  She smiled, imagining the looks on their ugly dumb faces.  She very much doubted that they had any inclination that she had been watching them this whole time.  Channeling her power through her vaporous spy, the Pony of Shadows brought down the black walls of magic surrounding the hospital.  Moments later the panicked ponies outside bucked open the doors and stormed down the stairs to see if their children were still protected. 

The trolls laughed, their hideous cackling bounced off and through the halls of the hospital’s basement to the ears of the worried parents.  The monsters snapped their fingers and they were gone, taking all the foals with them.  

Poised over the place of healing like an angel of death the black alicorn summoned the parts of her she had detached to watch the trolls.  Like a mother calling her young, the magic returned and her strength grew. 

A sonic boom heralded the arrival of her foe.  The Pony of Shadows felt the air displacement from her nemesis’s arrival before she heard the sound.  Princess Luna shot past her evil twin and dove through one of the closed windows of the hospital.  The black alicorn smirked at her sister’s recklessness and looked forward to her heartbreak.  She was far too late.  It did not take long for the Princess of the Night to reemerge from the basement’s nursery. Luna soared right up to Nightmare Moon until they were but a few inches apart.  “Where.  Are. They?” The Princess bit off each word like they were the heads of the troll she despised.  

Nightmare Moon’s eyebrows rose.  “And there it is.  There’s the rage that made Equestria quake for many a moon.”  She laughed, “Oh, how I’ve missed this.  I would tell you how boring it is to be trapped somewhere for a thousand years, but I think you know how it is.  We’re the same, after all.”

In reply Luna shot a beam of magic point blank right at the face of her twisted self.  

The Pony of Shadows lazily turned her head away from the attack just barely dodging it.  Her scarred mug leered at her twin.  “Too slow.”

A trace of a grin emerged on Luna’s mouth.  “Am I?”

A fresh cut opened on Nightmare Moon’s forehead just above the eye.  The wound bled freely, blurring the twisted alicorn’s vision in obsidian blood.  The Pony of Shadows licked at the wound with an overly long tongue and savored the flavor. She shuttered, “How long has it been since somepony had wounded us?  Nopony better suited for the job than ourselves, eh Luna?”

“Where are the ch---”

“The Tree of Harmony,” answered the Pony of Shadows absently.  “Or as I like to call it, the troll works.  Dolls go in, trolls drop down, except one gets far far more trolls for the price of a few foals.  More bang for the bit as the riff raff would say.”

Luna spread her wings and attempted to fly straight into the heart of the Everfree Forest.  But her evil doppelganger blocked her way.  “Have you’ve ever considered becoming Nightmare Moon again?”

“Get out of my way!” snarled the Princess.  She whirled around and aimed her hind legs to deliver a bone-shattering buck to her dark clone.  

The Pony of Shadows created a black shield just in time to keep her breastbone from breaking.  Her magic sundered underneath Luna’s hooves, but the dark alicorn recovered quickly.  Using ancient words of power, Nightmare Moon’s horn and eyes turned the color of the deepest void.  With this dark magic, she conjured shackles that bound the legs and wings of her do-gooding twin.  Princess Luna plummeted to the ground, struggling to free herself as she fell. Before she could crash through the unforgiving roof of the hospital, Nightmare Moon encompassed the blue alicorn with her black magic.  Slowly, Luna was raised several hundred feet off the ground. 

Nightmare Moon grinned at her twin.  “You’ve grown strong, Princess.  Think of how strong you’ll be once we are united again.”

Luna glared back and for the first time actually took notice of the other alicorn’s burned features. She calmed herself with a deep breath and considered her predicament.  Her mind searched and found a solution but she would need an opening. “How did you escape the castle?  And what happened to your face?” 

The smile on the black pony’s face melted into a frown.  “It appears troll saliva takes a long time to heal.  Courtesy of Rotnart, if you must know.  I do so hope I get another chance to end his miserable life before somepony else does.”  The Pony of Shadows looked thoughtfully at Luna.  “I’d say that we would both find common ground in wanting that troll gone. But I’d probably be mistaken since he released you from your wooden prison.”

Luna’s face remained impassive but mentally she cursed herself for a fool.  Nightmare Moon had spies everywhere.  The princess shrugged as much as her bindings would allow.  “Rotnart knows which way the winds of fate are blowing. He has realized that the troll empire of the Old World will not be resurrected this night.”

Nightmare Moon chuckled exposing her canine teeth.  “That is where we disagree, sweet sister.  Judging from the mewling and wailing of our subjects, the trolls have made off with just about all the foals left in this town.  Let us say they ran off with no more than twenty sweet innocent children.  How many trolls do you think that would make?  The Tree of Harmony managed to produce about a hundred mutant hell-spawn with three dolls, Discord, and a young squirrel.”

The dark blue alicorn’s eyes widened ever so slightly.  She had wondered about Discord’s whereabouts; things had been far too quite recently. Now she knew why.  She could feel something dark and uncomfortable at the outskirts of her psyche, slowly worming its way forward through her mind.  She knew the risk involved in summoning her familiar into the material plane, but it had to be done.  One way or another there would be one ruler of the night still standing when the sun rose.

The Pony of Shadows continued.  “As for how I, the remnant of your true self escaped that wretched castle, I had some help. You see when Rotnart’s brother started the process of corrupting the Tree of Harmony into what it is now, he released every evil spirit, ghost, and ghoul for miles and miles around, including yours truly.  But unfortunately those phantoms did not have enough of a physical presence in the material plane to keep from getting swept up and used to power and change the tree. Can’t you feel it, sister?  The air is charged with the souls of long dead miscreants, most of them are being pulled to the Tree of Harmony like lambs to the slaughter.”

Luna winced not at her doppelgangers words but at the splitting migraine tearing through her skull. The Tantibus could taste its freedom after being imprisoned for so long.  It could not escape through the Princess’s horn so it was now seeking other ways of egress.  A cold sweat broke out on the Night Ruler’s brow.  She blinked and took a deep breath.  “What do you mean most of them are being pulled to the Tree of Harmony?  What’s happening to the others?”  

Nightmare Moon eyed her twin curiously.  “Come now, sister, how do you think I am able to best and imprison you like this?  The trolls are not the only ones who can capture ghosts.  All I have to do is enter the dream world and . . . how do the riff-raff put it?  Chow down.”

The princess groaned in agony.  Black blood dripped from her nose onto her shackled hooves.  

“What is the meaning of this?” asked The Pony of Shadows.  “Are you unwell, sister?” 

Luna couldn’t answer. The Tantibus was breaking free, crashing its way through the alicorn’s body.  The captured pony wept blackness from her eyes, ears, and mouth.  The Night Princess convulsed and gagged as best as her shackles would allow.  

The Pony of Shadows was unsettled by the display of agony.  She backed away from her twin.  “What is happening?” asked the evil pony.  

With a violent final heave the Tantibus was vomited forth.  The creature easily pierced the gossamer thin veil encircling Luna and absorbed the magically constructed shackles binding the pony’s hooves and wings. The Tantibus was just a ball of black space highlighted by shining stars, but soon Luna’s familiar took a more well known shape after consuming the concentrated magic.  

The Princess barely had the energy to flap her cramped wings to keep her airborne.  She grimly watched her tormenter who had plagued her for so many nights transform into another copy of herself.  

For a moment the trinity of alicorns stared at each other in fascination. In spite of the dreadful events that had happened in the hospital short moments ago, the mourning townsfolk took note of what was happening above them.  The pegasi flew to Luna’s side to help their Princess, but the dark blue alicorn shook off their concerns and questions.  “Stay back, my faithful subjects.  This is my battle and mine alone.” 

The Tantibus fixed The Pony of Shadows with a predator’s stare and moments later turned that eyeless gaze on Luna.  Briefly the monster considered the many pegasi that flew with their Princess. The construct snorted derisively and let out a monstrous screech.  The creature made its choice when it charged straight at Luna’s evil twin.  

Nightmare Moon summoned as much energy as she could.  She hastily aimed her horn at this new enemy and fired.  Her magic struck home against the creature’s chest but the monster kept coming.  Not only did Luna’s construct absorb the magic, it now looked bigger and stronger. The Pony of Shadows had barely enough time to dodge the monster’s attack.  The wings of the creature had transformed into keen razors in the blink of an eye.  If she had been any slower, she would have been staring up at her flapping torso from her severed head.  The twisted alicorn took a second to look at Luna in terror.  The other alicorn stared back without remorse or pity.  The Pony of Shadows in her wildest dream would not have thought her weaker self able to conjure something so diabolical.  But in that moment she realized just how horribly wrong she was.  

The Pony of Shadows turned and fled into the night sky as fast as she could.  The Tantibus was there waiting for her.  She banked, dove, and climbed as fast as she could, but no matter what she did she could not lose the monster that stalked her.  At last the Pony of Shadows stopped and unleashed her magic in all directions, trying to hit the beast.  Ponies in the air and on the ground dove out the way of the fragmented magic but none came close to damaging the Tantibus.  

The small sliver of Nightmare Moon looked all around her and could not see her foe until she looked up. The twisted alicorn had enough time to draw breath but not enough to scream. 



********************************************************************************************************



The Cutie Mark Crusaders and Pip slowly made their way down the dark streets of Ponyville.  Moving from cover to cover the four little ponies took refuge at the mouth of an alleyway.   

“Do y’all see anything?” asked Apple Bloom.

“Nope,” said Scootaloo.

“Uh-uh,” declared Sweetie Belle.  

“Narp,” answered Pipsqueak.

“Okay, we’re almost there. Just a few more blocks and . . .” A loud crash echoed behind the little ponies before the country filly could finish talking.  

The four ponies whirled around and trained their weapons on whatever was trying to sneak up on them.

Illuminated in the street light was a wooden troll frozen in the act of kicking a garbage can.  The creature looked unsure whether to pick the can up or to keep moving.  

Scootaloo let out an exasperated sigh and lowered her weapon.  “What the hay, Rotnart?  Are you going to do that all night?” hissed the small Pegasus.  Her wings fluttered angrily as she spoke.  “The goal is to get to the hospital without every stupid troll trying to find us.”

Rotnart gave the pony an annoyed look as he clumsily made his way over to hide near the girls.  The wooden golem hunkered down behind a dimly lit park bench and waited.

“Hey, take it easy on him,” Sweetie Belle whispered.  “He’s on our side now.”

Scootaloo sighed, “I know, I know.”  The orange pony turned her attention to the roiling skies above the hospital.  A massive storm brewed in the heavens and every so often the Pegasus could see a flash of lightning illuminating the shadows of two great ponies locked in combat.  “I’m just worried about the Princess.”

“Aye, you’re not the only one,” Pipsqueak said mournfully.  “But if anyone can beat the Pony of Shadows, it’s her.”

The Crusaders nodded.  

“Let’s keep moving,” ordered the earth pony.  “Rotnart, why don’t you stay in the middle?  Scootaloo and I will go first and Sweetie Belle and Pipsqueak will bring up the rear.”

The troll shrugged his wooden shoulders and nodded.

The alley was wide enough for the small ponies to walk two abreast.  The two fillies upfront cautiously made their way down the narrow street, their hoof-falls echoing off the tall residential hovels.  When they were far enough ahead of the clumsy troll, Scootaloo leaned over to Applebloom and asked.  “What are we going to do with Rotnart?  We can’t just bring him to the hospital where everypony else is, can we?”

Applebloom looked over her shoulder at the gangly troll.  Whatever Rotnart had done to free Princess Luna had not only cost him his body but his ability to speak.  In spite of him being the cause of the mess Ponyville was in, the little Earth Pony felt sorry for the troll.  The filly rolled her friend’s question around in her mind and could not find any good options.  “I don’t know.  We probably should have left him back at the library, but . . .”

“It didn’t feel right,” finished Scootaloo.  “I know.” 

The pair of armed ponies silently passed the dark windows of the apartments.  Applebloom nervously gazed up at the glass panes.  It was not hard for her to imagine a leering troll behind each window ready to pounce.  She kept her fears to herself, but a few steps later she heard Scootaloo whisper, “Oh great, what’s he doing now?”  She looked behind to see Rotnart staring into one of the buildings.  The earth pony bit back her angry words, but it took some effort.  This was not a good place to stop.  The ponies gathered around him.

“What’s up?” asked Applebloom.

The troll pointed into the building.  

“Is something in there?” asked Sweetie Belle.  

The troll raised his shoulders and hands in the universal gesture for “I have no clue.”

“But you bloody well saw something, didn’t ya?” asked Pipsqueak.

The troll nodded.  

Applebloom squinted into the windows of the apartment in question.  She shook her head and turned away.  “We can’t stay here.  We’ll come back for . . .”

From the other side of the alley came the sound of shattering glass.  From the corner of her eye the earth pony saw a small monster smash its way head first through the hopper windows of the apartment behind them. The troll was flying at her like one of Scootaloo’s rockets.  Time slowed. It was like Applebloom was moving through molasses as she fumbled to bring her weapon to bear on the maniacal troll. Her lips quivered in dread; she knew that the troll would be on top of her before she could shoot.  Before the troll could lay its black finger nails on the pony, a wooden barrier interposed itself between the hunter and its prey. Applebloom heard the thunk of the troll hitting her shield quickly followed by a thud when the concussed troll hit the ground.  Pipsqueak was ready and delivered the coup de grâce to the stunned troll.

Before the earth pony could fully comprehend what had just happened, other trolls were making their presence known. Many of the larger trolls whooped and howled as they dove off the three-story rooftops to land in the pony’s midst. The Crusaders turned and shot some of the falling monsters into piles of goo before their feet could touch the ground. Applebloom got a hold of herself and took hasty potshots at the raining creatures.  But all the while the image of Rotnart saving her from a wooden fate would not leave her mind.  From the doorway of the apartment she and her friends were investigating moments before, another of the smaller trolls appeared.  The snarling creature snapped its fingers.  The next thing the filly knew she was squeezing a tube of toothpaste. She looked around to see Scootaloo fling her bottle of moisturizer at the nearest troll and yell, “Let’s get the hay out of here!”

The Crusaders didn’t need any more encouragement.  The four ponies dashed down the alleyway, but someone was missing from their group. Applebloom skidded to a halt.  She whirled around to see Rotnart staring down the squad of ambushing trolls.

“Rotnart!” cried Appleboom. 

Some of the larger trolls tried to get around their former king, but the wooden golem stood firm and lashed out at anyone that tried to get past him.  Many of the trolls stared dumb-founded at their wooden kin, not believing their eyes.  Their shared memory said that this was their missing king, brother of Rabuf, heir of Rotnart.  Why was he helping the ponies and why did he bear the wood curse?  One of the trolls shook his head and shouted a savage war cry. The roar broke the trolls from their stunned reprieve.  As one, they charged Rotnart overwhelming the king with weight of numbers until he disappeared underneath a pile of muscle, mucus, and madness.

Applebloom turned her head away from the sight and stifled a whimper.  The other Crusaders grabbed the faltering earth pony and half carried her down the narrow road.  Some of the more observant trolls bounded after them.  Four little ponies was too good of a quarry to just let slip away.  

Applebloom shook off the hooves of the others and ran.  She could almost feel the hot breath of their pursuers on her neck.  They were almost out of the alley.  Just another hop, skip, and a jump as Pinkie Pie would have said. She kept running until five figures silhouetted by a street lamp blocked the exit.  One of the dark newcomers was much taller than the others.   He stood on two legs where his companions were on all fours.  As Applebloom got closer she could spot that the tall creature was wearing blue jeans, a denim vest, and sporting a plain-looking twill cap.  The pony’s heart caught in her throat when she recognized who it was.  

A familiar voice echoed down the alley, “Friends, Romans, ponyfolk lend me your milk.” 

The air was filled with dairy of all kinds.  Milk, butter, and ice-cream whizzed by the ears of the ponies.           

The earth pony’s smile nearly reached her ears as she stared up at the tall human.  “Ernest!” she cried.
> The Nimbus Sucker 9000
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Twilight.  Ms. Twilight, can you hear me?  You have some guests.”

The alicorn stirred beneath the sheets of her hospital bed.  She heard the familiar voice but did not wake.  

The voice spoke again.  “Her horn has suffered severe trauma.  I was able to remedy and bind a lot of the smaller factures and splits in the bone, but I strongly recommend she stay here and rest.”

“If only it were that simple,” said a much more familiar voice.  “I’d spare her this if I could, but her magic and organizational skills are second to none.  Doctor, I command you to wake her.”

The doctor paused.  “So be it, but to wake her without trauma, I’ll need some time to prepare.”

“I can help wake her up.  I’ve studied some healing and induced sleeping spells,” declared a new voice.  

The alicorn heard the aura of magic gathering near her.  

A third voice spoke.  “Save your magic, Sunny.  I got a better idea.”

The comatose alicorn heard someone moving around in the room.  Moments later to her horror she heard the unmistakable sound of paper being ripped in half.  Twilight’s eyes shot open on their own accord.  She gazed worriedly around the room until she saw Ernest P. Worrell holding two pieces of parchment in two different hands.  

“Eh, heh, heh, heh.  Librarians hate that,” Ernest stated sheepishly. 

Twilight blinked, not believing her eyes.  She took in the recovery ward and saw other ponies in her room.  Princess Luna, released from her wooden prison.  She was battered, tired, and covered in cuts and bruises, but nonetheless she was here and fully restored to her dark glory.  Sunset Shimmer, shuffling nervously from hoof to hoof her attention focused everywhere but on Twilight.  And Spike, who was sitting on a small stool petting RImshot.  Before she could say anything, Doctor Brighthoof and Nurse Red Heart obscured her view.   They asked several questions, shown light in Twilight’s eyes, and took her temperature.  All the while they muttered about how dangerous the human was and how there were procedures for waking up a pony in a coma.  When the Dr. was done, Twilight asked her first questions.  “What happened?  Did we win?  We won right?  Of course we won, how else could Princess Luna be turned back to normal if we didn’t win? Are the foals in the basement okay?  Where’s Willie?”

Princess Luna stepped forward.  “Patience, Princess Twilight.  All will be revealed.  In short, the fight is not yet won, but it is far from lost.  Just look out the window.”

The lavender alicorn obeyed.  What she saw stunned her.  The sun was rising over Ponyville, revealing a host of Canterlot and Crystal Empire guards ponies.  Every warrior was armed with some kind of dairy product.  The sky was full of darting pegasi from every organization Twilight could think of.  Guards, Weather teams, Wonderbolts patrolled the heavens.  And off in the distance, she could see earth ponies and unicorns turning houses into little fortresses, stocking the impromptu strongpoints with milk.  The sight lightened her heart, and yet it was not what she wanted to see.  

As if sensing Twilight’s thoughts Princess Luna continued, “I should inform you of what has transpired over the past several hours.  But needless to say, we would not be having this conversation if it weren’t for the supreme efforts of Mr. Ernest P. Worrell and Ms. Sunset Shimmer.”

At this high praise from Luna, Sunset’s cheeks turned crimson beneath her yellow coat.  The unicorn still refused to meet Twilight’s gaze.  Meanwhile Ernest put his hands behind his back and looked down at the ground shyly.  The Troll Fighter was just as battered and worn as the Princess.  His clothes were in tatters and his skin sported several fresh burns.  “Ah, shucks.  You’re welcome ma’am.  But like you said, I couldn’t have done it without Sunny or Ms. Spitfire.  I definitely owe Spitfire a cake.”  Ernest thought for a moment.  “Or the Crusaders, or Pipsqueak, or Diamond Tiara, or Zecora, or Rimshot, and everyone else that helped.”

The human’s comment put a small smile on the yellow unicorn’s face.  She looked up at Ernest and shook her head.  “I still can’t believe you’re alive and you did what you did.”

Ernest stood up straight and put his hands over his blackened denim vest.  With a look of superiority, he declared, “I think it was General Grant at the battle of Waterloo that famously said, ‘You can question what my camel eats.  But you can’t question what my camel makes.’  Ya know what I mean?”	

Twilight gave the tall human a questioning look.  “So, what happened?”


*******************************************************************************


Luna wiped the moisture out of her eyes.  She blinked and frantically looked around her airspace, her vision obscured by the curtain of rainwater she was hovering in.  Nothing.  The creature was hiding again.  The Princess focused her magic and took a deep breath.  She ignored the multitude of cuts and lacerations that covered her body.  Her magic could and did heal many of her ailments, but her power was set to a more pressing purpose.  In her mind’s eye she visualized her surroundings.  Like a bat mapping its position, she sent out a pulse of magic to her left, front, and center.  She waited and ignored the rain pelting her coat.  Seconds passed; nothing.  She considered turning herself 180 degrees and using the same technique to see if the monster was behind her.  Before she could send out a fresh pulse she received a reading.  It was the Tantabus; no other pony was in this mess with her.  She had ordered the Wonderbolts and all other pegasi not to join her in this hunt.  It was over 500 feet away and closing fast.  She tensed,  waiting for her familiar to get close.  She sent another pulse of magic.  Her familiar was 350 feet away.  Luna opened her eyes and tried to peer through the storm.  There!  She thought she saw the Tantabus, a black shadow against the dark gray clouds of the storm.   Her horn glowed as she whispered words of power and warding.  Just as she was about to cast her spells, lightning flashed before her face, followed immediately by the titanic boom of thunder.  For critical seconds, she was blind and deaf.  Reacting as fast as she could, Luna sent out a third pulse of magic.  Her breath caught in her throat when she realized the monster was right on top of her.  She had no time to throw up a hastily crafted magical barrier, so she did the only thing she could do.  She fled and dove straight down.  The Princess wasn’t quick enough.  She felt the monster’s wing-blades cut clean through a piece of her gilded horse-shoe and bite deep into her right rear hoof.  The alicorn bit down on her scream.  It was painful, but the Princess of the NIght had endured far worse.  With a snarl of rage Luna flapped her wings and banked back towards her enemy.  The Tantabus was fleeing back the way it had come.  Luna let loose a barrage of magic at the monster’s hindquarters.  The magic flew true but did not strike the Tantabus.  The attack dissolved and fizzled just before impact on the monster’s coat.  Luna swore, seeing her creation unscathed.  Using the break in the fight, Luna concentrated on healing her flayed hoof.  While her leg mended, she contemplated possible scenarios and plans.  The situation was not ideal.  She could not keep up this war in the skies for much longer.  Her battle with The Pony of Shadows had left her drained.  And now she was trapped in a prolonged engagement with her familiar with the trolls increasing in number by the minute.  This fight needed to end. 

“Princess!”

Luna swung her head towards the sound.  She almost didn’t hear it over the den of the storm.  Focusing her power she forced the clouds to part.  For a brief moment she saw a pegasus but was too far away to discern who it was.  The clouds reformed as fast as Luna drove them off.  Not for the first time she cursed her familiar and then herself for making it.  The alicorn arched her wings and flapped through the clouds to where the pegasus had been before she had lost sight of it.  

She burst through the wall of clouds and turned to face the flyer who had been calling her.

Spitfire took in the sight of her Princess in open-mouthed horror.  The alicorn was covered in cuts and bruises, and the Princess's hoof was dripping blood freely from a half-closed wound.  The sight shook the Wonderbolt to her core.    

“What is your report, Commander?” asked the Princess. 

The pegasus regained her bearings and came to attention.  “Ma’am, reinforcements from Canterlot and the Crystal Empire are arriving in the town bolstering our defenses.  Shining Armor has . . .” 

“What of the trolls in the Everfree Forest?”  Luna asked, interrupting Wonderbolt.

“No major movements, ma’am,” replied the Ace flyer with no hint of ire.  “We were getting reports of trolls flying through the air on fruit bat-like wings.  I can confirm these reports are accurate.  I personally took down two of their flyers myself,” the pony said, patting the bandoleer full of cartons of milk on her chest.  “There's a lot of them though.  We can’t get close to the Tree of Harmony.” 

Luna nodded.  “The trolls are evolving.  Just like they did a thousand years ago.”

Spitfire peered into the stormcloud.  “Ma’am, my flyers and I can go in there and . . .”

“No!” shouted Luna.  “The Tantabus will tear any pegasus apart who enters its hunting ground.  I need you and yours to continue to keep an eye on the trolls and coordinate with our forces on the ground.”   

Spitfire nodded.  “About that, ma’am.  Shining Armor has arrived with Zecora and two of your guards.  They’ve brought with them some civilians from the Crystal Empire.  One of them is a human.  They are requesting an audience if you’re not too busy up here.”

The Princess blinked.  She looked at the cloud where the Tantabus was prowling, to her still bleeding hoof, and then back at Spitfire.  “Lead on, Commander.”  



*******************************************************************************



“This is the most suicidal, most ridiculous, dumbest plan I’ve ever heard!”  the Wonderbolt leader yelled to the assembled ponies and human.

Ernest leaned away from the pegasus’s wrath.  His reflexive nervous laugh bubbled out of his mouth.  “Eh, heh, heh, heh.  So is that a yes vote?”

Spitfire shrugged.  “It’s not up to me.  I’m just saying that you have a deathwish.”  

Nearly all the ponies who were in this impromptu war-council nodded their heads.  Morning Star was not one of them,  “The problem is none of the pegasi can form a cyclone large enough for long enough to get rid of that cloud before the Tantabus shoots lightning at them.  Unless a better idea is presented, I am in support of the human’s plan.”  

Mayor Mare seated at the left hoof of Princess Luna cleared her throat loudly.  “Excuse me.  Why do we have to do anything about the Tantabus at all?  It seems perfectly happy sitting up there in its cloud.  Why not focus on getting the children back?”

Before anyone could reply, an enormous bolt of lightning shot out from the cloud and struck a gazebo in the center of town.  The structure exploded and started a growing fire.  A blood curdling whinny echoed from the storm that was heard by all in the town.  

The Mayor got up from her seat and bowed to the Princess.  “I humbly withdraw what I just said.”  

The Princess nodded and watched her gather volunteer ponies to fight the fires and to make sure nopony was hurt.  

Sunset Shimmer was the next to speak.  She got up from her seat and looked the alicorn in the eye.  “Princess Luna.  I don’t like this plan any more than anypony else does.  But in the short time I’ve known Ernest, I’ve learned one thing.  That if he says he can do something, he can do it.”

Luna stoically cast a glance up at the growing domain of the Tantabus.  The pegasi up there were busting clouds as fast as they could, but the dark cumulus clouds were reforming faster than it could be destroyed.  “Shining Armor, what is the condition of Twilight Sparkle?”

“She’s still undergoing surgery.  It will be at least another hour or two before the doctors will be done.”  Shining Armor sighed.  “Princess.  If we are going to move against the trolls, we need to do so now.  Our forces will never be as strong as they are at this moment.”    

Princess Luna furrowed her brow in thought.  “If memory serves, the Crystal Heart nearly annihilated the trolls a millenia ago.  It should do so again.  When the threat from the Tantabus has been dealt with, I shall travel to the Empire and retrieve the Crystal Heart.”

Shining Armor shook his head.  “Your Highness, the Crystal Heart protects the Empire from succumbing to the elements.  To remove the Heart would condemn the Empire to freeze.”

Luna was about to reply when one of her lunar guards flew down to the assembly, gave a curt bow, and whispered something into the Princess's ear.  

The alicorn’s mouth thinned.  “Thank you, Nightshade.  Return to your post.”

The messenger bowed and took to the skies.  

The Princess stood from her seat and looked down at the map of Ponyville spread out on a few milk crates.  Luna pointed to a section of the forest that bordered the southern end of the town.  “The trolls are amassing a strike force near Hydra Falls.”  Looking up at her most trusted soldier, she said, “Shining Armor, you shall lead the defense of the town as you see fit while the rest of us deal with the Tantabus.”  

The white unicorn donned his helm.  “We shall meet them when they come out to play.”

“Be careful.  The enemy is using armor that is near milk-proof.  The trolls have taken to stripping the birch trees of their bark and have fashioned protective equipment from our dairy weapons.”

The unicorn nodded.  “We’ll take care of it.”  The Prince turned to Ernest and gave him a sad look like he was never going to see him again.  “Celestia’s speed, Worrell.”

Ernest gave Shining Armor a puzzled look.  “Thanks.  But I don’t think Principal Celestia will let me drive her Porsche.  But it does go pretty fast.  I’d be pretty useful right now, for sure.”

The white pony stared back at the human in confusion.  He was about to say something but thought better of it.  

Luna watched her most experienced military leader go to rally the troops of both the Crystal Empire and Canterlot.  She turned her gaze fully on the Redneck.  “Mr. Worrell.”

“You can call me Ernest, ma’am.”

“Very well, Ernest.  What you are proposing is the most dangerous chore I can imagine.  Are you sure you wish to put yourself in danger like this?”

The Redneck smiled confidently.  “Do not worry your pretty little head, Princess.  Before sunrise your sky will be as clear as the inside of my colon.  All I need is some tools, some mechanically inclined assistants, about a dozen go-fors, and some concoctions from Dr. Suess.” 

The Princess blinked.  “Who?”

“I  am the one he is referring to.  This name is starting to grow on me from out of the blue,” Zecora said with a hint of amusement.

The Princess shrugged at this bit of news.  She turned her gaze to the heavens and said, “Commander Spitfire, for the coming battle with the Tantibus, I will need the support of all able-bodied pegasi not assigned to engaging the trolls.  Your force will have their person’s  magically enhanced by unicorns knowledgeable on how to resist lightning damage.”

“Of course, ma’am.  The Tantibus won’t know what hit it,” the Wonderbolt said with relish.

Luna pointed at the enormous cumulus.  “Your assignment will be two fold.  Firstly, I want your force to act as a diversion.  You will attempt to bust that cloud and draw the Tantibus away from Ernest.  Do not directly engage the Tantibus unless no alternative is given.”

Spitfire didn’t hesitate when she said, “Consider it done.”  

The Princess held up a hoof.  “But do not attack the cloud until Ernest has begun his phase of this operation.”

Spitfire glanced at the human.  “Okay, what’s the other thing you want me to do?”  

The alicorn gestured towards the Troll Fighter.  “Keep your eye on this one and catch him if he falls.”



*******************************************************************************



Sunset Shimmer slowly made her way up to the attic of the hospital.  She was tired, enchanting so many pegasi with lightning resistance had taken its toll.  She followed a large cable that snaked its way from the basement generators.  Her ears heard the sound of industry before seeing it with her own eyes.  In her magical aura she carried a glass pitcher, a sealed metal can, and a set of nesting red solo cups.   A yellow-green liquid swirled and fizzed in the server.  Inside the attic, she saw Ernest and the Cutie Mark Crusaders busily at work on what looked like an oversized water heater. 

A small foal dressed in a pirate costume put down his tool.  He looked up and waved at her.  She waved back and caught some of the conversation Ernest was having with the other little ponies.

“And that’s when Rotnart put himself in between me and that charging troll and saved me from becoming a doll.”

Ernest stopped what he was doing and looked at Apple Bloom in surprise.  “Is that right?”

Sunset saw the other Crusaders nodding their heads in agreement.

The Redneck returned to his labor.  “I never saw a troll do that back in Briarville.  Maybe once we get this Tantabus business done we can establish some sort of dialogue with some of the trolls who want to be less . . .” Ernest paused as he searched for the right word. “Trolley.  Ya know what I mean.  I think we should drop some pamphlets on them.  Maybe if we offer them some lactose free cider, they’ll . . .”

At this point Sunset tuned out the Troll Fighter’s ranting.  She saw the little foal cross the floor with a piece of hardware that looked strangely familiar.  She glanced over to the corner of the room.  The unicorn stifled a terrified whinny when she saw the smashed and dismantled husk of Willey’s body.  She had to fight not to drop all the things Zecora had provided.  

“Ahem.”  

Sunset Shimmer looked behind her to find a small pink earth pony sporting a diamond tiara looking up at her with an annoyed expression.  “Oh, sorry.”  The shaken orange pony hastily got out of the way of the newcomers.

The little filly glared at Sunset but then her gaze softened.  “It’s okay.  I’m just in a hurry, and this box is kind of heavy . . . and yucky.”

“Do you need help with that?” asked Sunset.

“No, thanks,” Diamond Tiara came up to the Crusaders and plopped down the box, her coat and mane smudged with grease.  “Here are the last of the vehicle’s parts.”

“Just put them over there, please.”  Scootaloo didn’t even look up from her work when she pointed to another corner of the attic covered in truck parts.  

The little earth pony did as she was told and mumbled about having a week long spa day when this was all over.  “Is there anything else I can do?”

Scootaloo looked up and smiled warmly at the former bully.  “Naw, thanks for the help, Diamond Tiara.  We’ll call you if we need you.”  

As soon as the little filly left, Sunset heard an enthusiastic scampering noise coming towards her.

“Bark, bark.”

Sunset looked down at Rimshot.  The beagle was wagging his tail happily at seeing the unicorn.

As soon as Sunset reached down to pet the dog, Ernest looked up again from what he was doing.  The Redneck had a soldering gun in one hand and a thin stick of silver in the other.  “Oh, hi, Sunny.  How’s it g--- what’s wrong?”

Sunset pointed to where Willey’s body lay.  “What happened to him?”

Ernest put down his tools.  He got up and wiped his hand on a nearby rag.  “Willey was found like that down in the basement’s nursery.  He gave the trolls a good squirting though. He's a chip off the ol’ block known as Ernest P. Worrell, inventor extraordinaire.”  

The orange unicorn frowned up at the Redneck.  “You’re using him for parts?”

Troll Fighter One grimaced.  “I don’t like it either, Sunny.  It’s kind of like grave robbing.  Ya know what I mean?  Not that I’ve ever done that,” Ernest laughed nervously.  “But Willey’s parts and the pieces from Scootaloo’s rocket truck will help us out a lot on the Nimbus Sucker 9000 . . . We’re still working on the name.  I’ll build him another better body once this is all over.  He’ll like the next one better.  I was thinking his lower half would be a bulldozer and the upper half would be . . .”

The pony held up a hoof.  “What do you mean?  Willey’s gone, right?”

Ernest smiled and shook his head.  He pulled out a small black cube with a small access port built into it.  “This is Willey’s black box.  This is his brain, personality,  memory, and love for all things Celtic.  All we gotta do is pop this baby into his new body and he’s as right as rain.”  

Sunset stared at the cube.  “You can do that?”

Ernest tilted his head from side to side in a gesture that did not evoke confidence.  “Yeah.  But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”  The human hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Hey, Sunny, could you do me a favor?”

Before the unicorn could say yes or no, Ernest continued. 

“I was wondering if you could keep Willey safe for me while I’m up on the roof.  What I’m doing isn’t exactly safe . . . ya know what I mean?  And I’d feel really bad if anything happened to him before I got the chance to fix him up right.” 

Sunset felt her throat tighten as the reality of what Ernest was asking sank in.  She coughed and accepted the box with her magic.  “Sure, Ernest.”      

Ernest smiled.  “Thanks, Sunny.  Now how’s it goin out there?  Did Zecora have the magic rubber?”

“Uh, yeah.  Here you go.”  Sunset levitated the metal can up to where Ernest could read the label. 

The human squinted at the small print.  “Uh, huh.  Uh, huh.  Fast drying.  Yep.  Uh, huh.  Never swallow.”  Ernest scoffed.  “As if anyone would be dumb enough to drink this stuff.”  Ernest turned and whistled over the din of turning wrenches and welding.  Four little heads looked up at him.  “Break time everybody.  The drinks are here.”  

The Cutie Mark Crusaders gathered round as Ernest handed out the plastic cups.  After pouring the foals a generous portion of the fizzing substance, he raised his glass in salute.  “Here's to you, Cutie Mark Crusaders.  I couldn’t have done all this without ya.”  The fillies smiled up at the Redneck while at the same time eyeing and sniffing their strange-looking beverage. 

“Does this stuff look familiar to you?” whispered Sweetie Belle.

“It sure does.  It looks like Mellow Yellow,” answered Scootaloo.  “But I don’t think it’s supposed to fizz like this.”  

Ernest turned to Pipsqueak and in an English accent said, “And to you, good sir.  Your know-how of wind tunnels and suction were a boon to this project.  You’ve done your Princess and country proud this day, old chap.”

The little pirate beamed up at the human.  “Me old man was a vacuum sales-pony.  I picked up a thing or two from him.”  

Ernest drank deeply from his cup while Pipsqueak talked.  The Crusaders, Sunset, and Rimshot watched to see the Troll Fighter’s reaction to the concoction.

After the long pull, Ernest straightened and sighed.  “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.”   

“What is that?” asked Sunset.  

“Mellow Yellow,” replied the human.

The orange unicorn recoiled in horror.  “Ernest, that’s a very potent drug that should be taken in small doses.”

“I knew it,” said Scootaloo.

Before the Crusaders could get rid of their drinks Ernest raised his hands.  “Wait, wait.  This recipe is from my world.  It’s soda pop, it won’t turn you yellow . . . at least not after 10 gallons.  It’s good.  I drink it all the time. I did some pitchman work for Coke a few years ago.”  Ernest grinned.  “I was so good at selling the pop, the people at Coke showed me how to make the stuff.”  The human’s face turned serious, “Just don’t tell them I gave the recipe to Zecora.  Lawyers are expensive where I come from.”  

Cautiously Pipsqueak brought the cup to his lips and sipped.  His eyes widened when the caffeine entered his bloodstream.  A fierce grin split his face.  “This stuff is bloody amazing.”  

The Crusaders looked at each other and slowly drank from their glasses.  

Sunset couldn’t help but smile at the reactions from the little ponies.  It was like watching foals try candy for the first time.  They drank, talked, and pranced about the room barely able to contain their new-found energy.    

“Did you want some, Sunny?”

The orange pony shook her head at the offered glass Ernest held before her muzzle and got back to business.  “How close are you to finishing?”

Ernest sat down his glass next to the can of fast drying rubber.  “We’re just about done.  All we gotta do is button everything up here.”  Ernest gently kicked a steel plate with his foot.  “And then do some touch ups to the super vacuum and the lightning suit with Zecora’s fast drying rubber.”

“Lightning suit?” asked Sunset.

Ernest pointed to a nearby table.  On it was a mish-mash assortment of metals that had been hastily smashed, welded, and pressed together into something that looked like armor a human could use.  Sunset recognized even more pieces of Willey, parts from the cannibalized dodge pickup outside, and even dissected armor from a guard pony from Canterlot.  

A feeling of dread bubbled in Sunset’s stomach.  “Ernest, how is that . . . that . . .”  Words failed her in describing the assortment of garbage on the table.   “How is that stuff going to protect you from the Tantabus?”

Ernest grimaced.  “I know it looks pretty rough, but I think it should work.  Have I ever told you about that one time twenty years ago when my daddy went up on the roof of the house to fix the T.V. antenna in the middle of a thunderstorm?  He went up with nothing but the clothes on his back and a tinfoil hat and came back down just fine.  Now granted he kind of talked funny for the rest of his days after being struck a couple of dozen times, but he did it by gum.  But I’ll be going up with more protection then he ever had.  Once we’re ready, we’ll put the pieces together.”  

None of what her friend said was very comforting to the orange unicorn.  There were too many shoulds, ifs, and unknowns.  The more she looked at what Ernest and his helpers had made in the hospital’s attic, the more she agreed with Spitfire.  This plan was suicidal and probably not going to work at all.  

“So, what do you think Sunny?” asked Ernest.

She looked up at the Redneck and noticed that the Crusaders had calmed down enough to listen in on the conversation.  Even Rimshot was waiting expectantly for her to say something.  “Uh . . . yeah.  Maybe.  Would you mind if I added some of my own . . . enhancements?”

Ernest shrugged.  “Yeah, go ahead.”  The human turned back to his crew of fabricators.  “Well, gang, break’s over.  We gotta put everything together and daylight is burning.”

“But it’s night time,” said the little pirate.  

“I know,” replied Ernest. “We’re already behind.”  

As the Crusaders and Sunset set about their appointed tasks, Ernest walked over to where he left his cup.  Without looking, he raised it to his lips, and drank.  It didn’t take long for him to realize that what he was drinking was not Mellow Yellow.  His eyes widened to a cartoonish level when he couldn’t open his mouth.  Sure enough, there in his hand was the can of Zecora’s fast drying rubber.  Ernest cast about the attic wildly until he found a pry bar at a nearby bench.  The Redneck as nonchalantly as possible walked over to the table and tried to slide the tool between his sealed lips without being too conspicuous.  After several failed attempts, he grabbed a hammer and tried the same thing. 

 While this was going on, Rimshot watched the human with a bored expression on his face.  The beagle thought about barking up a storm and getting one of the Equestrians to help his master.  He would have done that if he’d not seen his master’s shenanigans countless other times.  The dog was not worried; Ernest had done way dumber things.  For now he was content to sit back and watch the show.    

The Troll Fighter rolled around on the floor with two flat blade screwdrivers in his mouth, prying for all he was worth.  Then his eyes met those of a pink filly wearing a diamond tiara.  The little pony stood on the stairs leading down into the hospital carrying a plate of hayburgers and punch.   

Ernest slowly got up from his prone position on the ground and removed the screwdrivers from his mouth.  He beckoned the pony forward and made a gesture that meant, and what can I do for you?

The little filly put down the plate and looked up at the filthy looking biped.  His shirt, vest, and lower jaw was covered in blackness.  Before the pony could ask what was going on, she spotted the can of liquid rubber sitting next to a plastic cup.  She looked at the can and back at Ernest.  “Did you drink that?”  Diamond Tiara pointed at the can of rubber.  She had to shout to be heard over the din of hammering and magic enchantment.  

Ernest nodded his head.  A series of unintelligible mumbles and hand gestures followed.

Before Diamond Tiara could get help or ask anymore questions the temperature in the room dropped by a few degrees.  The little filly had a pretty good hunch at what had caused the sudden coldness. She had enough encounters with Twilight Sparkle to know that a unicorn was about to teleport into the attic.   The pink earth pony had just enough time to turn around and see Princess Luna teleport into one of the few spaces in the attic clear of tables, wires, and other parts with an audible pop of air displacement.  The noise of industry ceased as the Crusaders and Sunset Shimmer stopped what they were doing, surprise written on their faces. 

The alicorn looked around and locked eyes with the Troll Fighter.  “Ernest, the situation outside grows most dire.  Prince Shining Armor and his strike force were ambushed near Hydra Falls.  We fear Shining Armor may have been taken hostage.  The trolls are as cunning now as they were a thousand years ago.  We need to move against the Tantabus as soon as you are ready.  How fares your progress?”

If Ernest hadn’t already been sweating from working so hard on the Nimbus Sucker 9000 and trying to pry his mouth open, he’d definitely would have been at that moment.  All eyes in the attic swung his way and waited for his answer.  He would have done his classic nervous laugh if his mouth wasn’t glued shut.  

Rimshot barked and pawed at the human’s ankles.  

Ernest looked down and saw that the beagle was holding a notepad and pencil in his mouth.  

The Redneck patted the dog and took the writing implements.  He hurriedly scrawled on the notepad and held it up for Luna to see.  “We’ll be ready in thirty minutes, ma’am, or my name isn’t Ernest P. Worrell, Fabricator General of Ponyville General Hospital.” 

Luna let out an exasperated noise.  “So be it.  Just hurry.”  She eyed the human and took in the black specks covering his face.  “Is something amiss, Ernest?  Why art thou not speaking to me?”

Again all eyes looked to The Troll Fighter for an explanation.  He thought about writing something, but he couldn’t break away from Luna’s piercing gaze.  His hand wrote unintelligibly across the page.

“I think he shocked himself.” 

Luna blinked and looked down at Diamond Tirra.  “What?”

“He got his face too close to some wires when he was neck deep in that thing he was working on.  I don’t know what happened.  I’ve been galloping up and down these stairs all night.  But not long ago I did see a lot of sparks, and the next thing I know, he’s lying on his face with specks of that black stuff all over him.  He hasn’t been able to talk since.”

The Princess gave Ernest a worried look.  “Has an apothecary been up here to examine him?”

“I don’t think so.  He and everypony else up here have been working non-stop this whole time.  When it happened, he just got back up and kept working.  Everypony knows that this machine needs to be up and running as soon as possible.” 

The alicorn nodded and turned to Sunset Shimmer.  “I’ll send somepony up here immediately to check on Ernest.  In the meantime, see if you can locate what ails him.”  The Princess looked at Ernest and smiled.  “Thank you for your dedication, Mr. Worrell.  Equestria is in your debt.  Are you well enough to continue your labor here?”

Ernest gave the pink filly a confused look but quickly broke it off to nod at Luna and salute.

“Good.  Let Ms. Shimmer examine you and then get back to your work.  An apothecary will be with you shortly.  And do try and be more careful.  We’ll have need of you later.”   

Moments later the Princess blinked out of the attic.

Applebloom was the first to speak.  “What the hay was all that about?”

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes and pointed up at the can of liquid rubber.  “This genius glued his muzzle shut.”

Sweetie Belle looked up at Ernest.  The human hung his head and nodded.  “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Scootaloo frowned at the former bully.  “But why did you lie to the Princess?  Don’t get me wrong, you made Ernest look pretty good back there, but you don’t owe him anything.”

Diamond Tiara sighed.  “Because Silver Spoon did the same thing for me not that long ago.  And if anypony can get back at the trolls for what they did to Silver Spoon and my dad, I’m going to do all I can to help that pony . . . or whatever the heck this weird thing is.”  The pink earth pony pointed at Ernest.  

The Crusaders looked at each other.  Finally it was Pipsqueak who said, “Eh, it’s a step in the right direction.”  The others nodded.

Sunset meanwhile was examining Ernest’s mouth.  “Okay Ernest.  I’ve seen something like this a couple of years ago when Snails drank a few containers of glue in art class.  I think I can get the rubber out, but I’m not going to lie, it’s going to sting.”

The human gave the pony a worried glance and scrawled something down on his notepad.  “Is it a shot?”

“No, it’s not a shot.  But we need to hurry up before the doctor gets here and finds a wad of rubber in your mouth.”

Ernest breathed a sigh of relief and began writing again.  “Do what you gotta do, Sunny.  Ernest P. Worrell does not shirk from duty or pain.  He . . . “

The Troll Fighter would have kept writing but the orange unicorn was asking him a question.  Her horn glowed with turquoise magic, “So have you asked Vice-Principal Luna out yet?”

The question caught Ernest completely off guard, but before he could write or mumble anything through his non-functioning mouth, he felt the ball of rubber that was sealing his lips shut ripped out of his head.

“WWWWHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA----------”  Ernent’s scream of pain was cut short by a silence spell from Sunset.

A few minutes later when a doctor came up to the attic, he found a lot of gauze stuffed into the mouth of the human.  The excuse given for this was that he had bitten his tongue and cheek when he had been electrocuted.  In the end the Doctor shrugged, gave Ernest a couple of capsules of pain-killers, and went back down the stairs where he had come from.
> Catch Him if He Falls
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Tantabus prowled its growing domain like a lion.  As the dark cloud expanded, so did the powers of the Tantabus.  The monster grew stronger and quicker, chasing off unsuspecting pegasi that tried to chip away at the storm.  Blood did not serve the star creature, nor did it seek to imprison the populace below in crude wooden statues like the trolls did.  No, all the Tantabus had to do was wait.  Wait until troll and pony alike succumbed to fatigue, and then the monster would strike.  It would invade the dreams of all who slept under its cloud and feast.  The cloud would grow and expand exponentially for each dream consumed until the Tantabus would have the power to project itself onto different worlds and planes of existence.  Those who were fed upon would never sleep again but that was of little consequence.  If the creature had a mouth, it would be grinning.  It could almost taste the dreams and nightmares of its victims.  It . . . something was wrong.  

Luna’s familiar had felt its strength fade with each piece of the cloud that had been destroyed by the alicorn and the Pegasi.  They had hurt the Tantabus especially in the early moments when it was first forming.  But now the Tantabus barely registered the efforts of the ponies.  What the star creature felt now was shocking.  Its power was melting like ice on a hot iron.  It had to find the source of this unwelcomed sensation.  The monster turned its attention to the void in its cloud kingdom.  There, above the hospital where the black cumulous had been birthed.  The star creature flapped its wings and soared to where it was hemorrhaging power.

On the roof of the tallest building in Ponyville a single bipedal creature in ill-suited armor was vacuuming up the cloud.  The tall interloper was garbed in a suit of metal that looked like it had been cobbled together from guard armor, pig iron, and other refuse from a steel factory.  It looked like some sort of tar-like substance was all that was holding the protective gear together.  The star monster relaxed.  This upstart would be dealt with swiftly.  Did this intruder really think that what it was doing would go unnoticed?  One lightning strike would cook the gangly thing in its pathetic excuse for armor.  

The Tantabus took a moment to regard the flexible rubber tubing the biped was wielding to suck the cloud from the sky.  Even from this distance the star creature could hear the noise from an unseen machine hidden somewhere in the hospital.  The Tantabus detached a portion of itself to investigate the whereabouts from which the racket was coming.  The small spy flew through a window on one of the lower floors.  The cloudlet found enormous pipes and power cords that ran up a flight of stairs leading to the attic.  The spy followed the fresh plumbing up to the attic where it beheld several ponies gathered round a large haphazardly constructed metal drum.  The piping and power cords fed into the cylindrical device.  The Tantibus seeing these images in its mind’s eye reasoned that the cloud was being pulled in by this machine and being condensed and held somewhere in the basement.

Luna’s familiar marveled at the size and the many vulnerabilities the machine had.  From the thick power cords that gave the vacuum life to the exposed flexible hose that the biped was articulating, the Tantabus could take out any one of those extremities and the machine would be useless.  But for all the device’s faults, the machine was doing its job with alarming speed.  Like a cancer, this threat was treatable but had to be dealt with immediately.  The Tantabus glided forward towards the biped’s blindside and made ready to attack.  The interloper was not defenseless, however.  Pegasi moved to intercept the star creature but these were as mosquitoes to a hawk and were quickly out maneuvered or swatted aside.  But then She arrived.

Positioning herself between Ernest and her familiar, Luna floated readily in the night sky.  The Tantabus shrieked a challenge at its former master and beat its wings.  Lightning shot forth from its star-speckled appendages.  Wordlessly the Princess brought up her magic shield and stopped the attack.  She wasn’t sure if the Tantabus was aiming for her or for Ernest.  She risked a glance behind her and sighed in relief.  The human was still at his post unharmed and the Wonderbolts were leading a massive wave of pegasi to help destroy the black cumulous.  The Troll Fighter waved her way.  Luna’s relief turned to horror as she witnessed the impossible.  The cloud was disappearing into Ernent’s machine faster than the alicorn had hoped, but it was not fast enough.  Multiple pieces of the massive cumulus were breaking off and were transforming into near carbon copies of the Tantabus.  Ernest was oblivious to this new threat.  She tried to use her Royal Canterlot voice to warn the Troll Fighter but felt something smash through her shield.  The Tantabus in front of her was on the attack with its razor wings and heavy hooves. 



*******************************************************************************



“Troll Fighter One, can you hear me?  This is the pit crew,” a tinny voice sounded next to the Redneck’s ear.

Without taking his eyes off his work Ernest replied, “This is Troll FIghter One, go ahead pit crew.”  

“Are you doing okay out there?” Scootaloo’s disembodied voice asked.

The human grinned underneath his rusted helmet.  “Never better.   My years in the janitorial profession have served me well for this moment.  I am one with my surroundings, my armor, and my cloud sucker.  I’ll have the skies cleared before ol’ glitter sludge knows what hit it.”

Sunset Shimmer spoke next.  “Don’t get too cocky out there.  The Tantabus is bound to notice its cloud disappearing.”

A twinge of fear knotted Ernent’s stomach.  Behind his visor, Ernest scanned the skies for the star monster but all he saw were pegasi.  Coming out in droves the winged ponies attacked the cloud with a ferocity only matched by the trolls.  An orange and yellow pegasus garbed in blue latex waved at the human.  Ernest waved back,  the pony looked familiar but he wasn’t familiar with all the new faces just yet.  The Troll Fighter brought a hand up to his face and shifted the armor surrounding his head.  A small pebble was glued into his helmet near his right ear.  From it his friends in the attic were talking to him.  Sunset called it a sending stone and Ernest could hear his pit crew through his homemade earplugs and above the din of the vacuum.   “Roger that.  Just let me know if ya see anything out there.”

“Will do, Troll Fighter One.  You be careful out there.  Ya hear?” asked Applebloom.  

“I read ya.  I‘ll be the paragon of caution.”  It may have been his imagination, but Ernest could have sworn he heard some giggling on the other end of the stone and some mention about drinking rubber.  The Redneck slowly advanced along the top of the hospital, the shingled sloping grate and the steep angles of the roof slowed the human’s movement.  In spite of the danger, Ernest walked away from the hatch leading down to the attic.   His crew fed him slack for the hose as he moved.  The vacuum was so powerful that all Ernest had to do was aim the hose and the cloud disappeared into the special magically sealed holding tank in the basement.  But if Ernest wanted to suck up all of the cloud he would have to move to the otherside of the roof and up steep angles.       

Moments later Sweetie Belle was in his head yelling, “Ernest, the Tantabus has been spotted.  It’s heading our way.”

Ernest gulped.  Thanks to Luna’s briefing on the Tantabus, the Troll Fighter had a vague idea on what the creature could do.  But not even the Princess fully comprehended what her old familiar was capable of.  He laughed but he couldn’t hide the fear in his voice.  “Eh, heh, heh, heh.  I’m sure Luna and the Wonderbolts can keep it off our backs until we’re done.  Ain’t nothing to be scared of.  Ain’t that right, Rimshot?”  Ernest heard a weak howl from his pet in his ear.  “Chin up, boy.  The Princess said that if we can get rid of this cloud, the tar monster should lose its mojo and be easier for Luna to eat . . . or absorb, or something.”    

A sharp boom of thunder tore the human’s attention from his labor.  There, just south of his position and several hundred feet off the ground was Princess Luna fending off the Tantabus.  He waved up at her in thanks but didn’t know if she could see him.  At that moment the wind picked up and blew the Troll Fighter backwards.  Ernest took a step to reposition himself when his armored foot went through a gap in the shingled roof.  “Uh-oh,” muttered Ernest.  

“Looks like you ran into a spot of bother, mate.  We can see your bloody leg in the ceiling,” Pipsqueak’s small English voice stated.  “You need assistance?”  

Ernest tried to pull his trapped leg out of the hole his foot had just made but was held fast.  “I’m pretty sure I can get it loose . . . eventually.”  Ernest thought about laying the hose down so he could use his hands to free himself but thought better of it.  After all, with Luna protecting him he had nothing to worry about.

“Sit tight, old boy.  Sunset’s going to work the problem from our end.”

“Ten Four, pit crew.” replied Ernest.  

While Sunset and the Crusaders tried to push Ernent’s lodged leg back through the roof, Pipsqueak made his way up to the trapdoor.  He pushed open the door and stuck his head out to check on Ernest.  He found the stuck human still vacuuming the rapidly diminishing cloud.  He also saw something that was far more terrifying.  A piece of the monster cloud had broken free and had formed a cloud-Tantabus.  The monster was flying straight for Ernent’s blind-side.  He brought the sending stone up to his lips and screamed, “Duck!”  But from out of the dark night sky a streak of blue was flying straight for the cloud monster.  The little pony felt the wind from the Wonderbolt that shot past him as he shouted his warning.  

Ernest turned just enough to see Spitfire intercept the cloud monster and deliver a buck to the thing’s chest.  The creature came apart in midair mere feet away from the trapped Troll Fighter.  Ernest sighed in relief and brought an armored hand up to his helmet in salute to the passing Wonderbolt.  The Pegasus returned the salute and flew back up to the heavens to destroy the cloud.  His trapped leg tingled and he could feel an upward pressure being applied to the sole of his armored foot.  With a heave Ernest pulled his leg free from the rotting shingles.  He could see Sunset’s turquoise aura fade from around his ankle.  “Tell Sunny thanks,” Ernest said into the sending stone.  Not waiting for a reply, the human scrambled to his feet and brought the hose to bear on more of the charging cloud creatures.  The cumulous monsters dissolved and were sucked into the depths of the hospital before they could get close to the redneck.

The Troll Fighter laughed smugly, “Eh, heh, heh, heh.  Another demonstration of superior human and pony know-how over feral cloud creature acrobatics.”  

Pipsqueak’s voice reverberated in Ernent’s helmet. “Oi, watch your six, mate.  There’s more of those things coming for ya.”  

Ernest turned to see a dozen of the cloud creatures gliding straight towards him in a ragged formation.  “Copy that, pit crew.  I see em.”  The Redneck aimed the vacuum’s nozzle towards the oncoming attackers and sucked in three of the twelve.  Five more of the flying fiends were taken down by pegasi led by Spit Fire.    The remaining four fired magical projectiles that were coming straight for the Troll Fighter.  “Take cover, pit crew!” yelled the Redneck.

Ernest heard one of the Crusaders ask something through the sending stone, but he was too busy screaming his lungs out to answer when the missiles hit.  “WHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”  Ernest’s world went white as he felt the magic bolts of energy hit his arms and chest.  Surprisingly enough, he felt no pain.  The Troll Fighter uncoiled his body and looked down at himself.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  Light-blue magical symbols were glowing fiercely in the night.  Before the Redneck could laugh smugly and thank his guardian unicorn and pegasus, the Tantabus clones changed tactics.  He could see the cloud monsters flying into position to charge through the attic windows. 

“Trying to take me highground away, are ya?”  Ernest asked in his Camelot voice.  “Well, it twill be a cold day in Ole Scratch's hot box before that happens.  Hang on, pit crew.”           

            

*******************************************************************************



The Tantabus howled in frustration.  This fight should have been over by now, but the armored biped was proving difficult to get rid of, thanks to the air support of the pegasi.  Luna’s familiar was only just managing to stay out of reach of its former master.  The Tantabus could feel itself weakening by the second.  Soon it wouldn’t be able to outfight the Night Princess.  As the star creature weaved and dodged Luna’s attacks, the Tantabus risked a look over at the hospital.  The biped was distracted.  It was not focusing on the cloud but was concerned with helping its allies in the hospital and protecting that infernal machine.  Even now the Tantabus saw two of the cloud clones being sucked into the biped’s vacuum as they tried to break into the attic.  Through the eyes of the little spy, the Tantabus watched an orange unicorn enchant windows with warding spells.  On the other side of the room, four foals were keeping another window barred with a mixture of magic from the little unicorn, a hastily applied black glue-like substance, and metal beams that were hammered into place.  The little cloud focused its attention on the loud machine in the center of the room.  The Tantabus grinned as it continued to avoid the alicorn.  If the spy could shut down or disable the vacuum, then the tide would turn.  The cloud would begin to grow again and regenerate what was lost.  The cloudlet slowly floated up to the machine.   A dog began to bark and snarl, but the spy paid it no heed.  Just before the spy could damage some of the circuitry, the cloudlet was knocked to the side and into a pile of metal refuse.  The spy looked up to see a beagle and a tiny pink unicorn dressed in a Princess costume looking down at the spy menacingly.  The last thing the Tantabus saw through the eyes of the cloudlet was a flash of magic from the pink unicorn and then nothing.

The star monster snarled and flew straight for the armored biped.  The Tantabus, throwing caution to the wind, summoned dozens of copies from the black cumulous and hurled them at the pursuing Night Princess.  The once enormous dark cloud that had dominated the night sky visibly shrank again at the act of being remade into so many Tantabus clones.  The star creature smiled when it looked behind to see its former master slow her pursuit in the face of so many new adversaries.  The Tantabus clones came apart in droves in the face of Luna’s fury and magic, but she had fallen behind.  The Tantabus prepared itself and set its sights on the new target.  



*******************************************************************************



“Where are ya?  Where are ya, ya sorry excuse for evil water vapor?  I’ll teach you to mess with my friends!”  Ernest leaned over the edge of the hospital to see if the cloud monster was hiding  beneath him. 

“Over here, Ernest.  North window!”  Sunset’s voice called through the sending stone.  

“Roger, pit crew,” the Troll Fighter turned and gingerly made his way over.  Sure enough the last of the Tantabus clones were trying to break through into the attic.  Ernest smiled to himself as he sucked in the cloud monster.  “Got em!  Everyone okay down there?”

“Yeah.  We’re okay,” Sunset reported through the stone.  “Rimshot and Diamond Tiara saved the machine from being turned off.  A little cloud managed to sneak in here.”

Ernest’s eyes widened at that bit of news.  “Man, I owe Rimshot a dog biscuit, and Diamond Tiara a pony.”  A look of horror crossed his face when he realized what he’d just said.  “Uh, err, maybe a castle.  How’s the Nimbus Sucker?”

Sunset laughed.  “The vacuum’s okay.  Pressure is good and we still have plenty of room in the holding tanks downstairs.  I don’t know how you and the Crusaders built something like this in so short a time, but I know we’d be in trouble without it.  You’re amazing, Ernest.”

Ernenst heard the other foals voice their agreement in the background with cheers and hoof stomping over the noise of the vacuum.  The Redneck felt his cheeks grow hot.  He wanted to reply, but something in the corner of his eye drew his attention.  A winged black mass speckled with star light was flying straight towards him at an alarming speed.  He tried to bring up his vacuum hose on the flying ebony monster, but he was moving far too slow.  The monster struck in the form of a massive lightning attack that was heard by everypony in Ponyville and every troll in the Everfree Forest.  The bolts of magical lightning struck Ernest squarely in the breastplate and traveled throughout his body.  Sunset’s protection spells that were infused in the armor were instantly overloaded. To her horror, Sunset Shimmer could hear Ernest through the sending stone while he was being electrocuted.  He wasn’t screaming in pain, but he wasn’t making any comprehensible noises she’d ever heard before.  And just after the deafening thunder, the ponies in the attic heard and saw pieces of metal shoot through the roof like swiss cheese.

The pegasi who witnessed the monstrous attack would later state that the human’s armor exploded from Ernest’s body in all directions.  After several long seconds, the burnt human fell face forward off the roof of the hospital.              

“Catch him!” yelled Spitfire.  The Wonderbolt Commander was joined by Misty Fly and Rapid Fire.  The Wonderbolts swooped forward and caught the human before he could face-plant into the dirt.  As gently as they could, the Wonderbolts lowered the fallen Troll Fighter to the ground.  “We need a bucking doctor over here!” screamed  Spitfire.  The human was convulsing and thrashing, nearly throwing off the hooves of the three mares holding him down.  The pegasus looked down to see Ernest staring up at her.  His eyes were white and wide, and it might have been her imagination, but she thought she saw arcs of blue lighting dance along his fingertips.  And then he was still.  Panicking, Spitfire put her cheek under the Redneck’s nose.  The human had stopped breathing.  

One of the other pegasi felt the human’s arm.  “I can’t feel a pulse,” declared Misty Fly.   

“Oh, no, no, no.  Don’t do this to me, you hairless son of a monkey,” muttered Spitfire.  She didn’t know where a human heart was located, but she was not going to let this man die on her watch.  Taking her best guess, she started to press hard on Ernent’s chest.

Sunset felt a tear fall from her eyes as she watched the Wonderbolts trying to revive Ernest through the barred attic windows.  She had not been strong enough.  Her magic had not been strong enough to protect her best friend.  She had sent the Crusaders, Rimshot, Pipsqueak, and Diamond Tiara down into the hospital.  She had told them to send up some unicorns to bolster the defenses of the attic.  Before the fillies could trot down the stairs, Sunset had given Willie’s black box to Scootaloo and told her to take good care of it for Ernest.  It was never safe to be up here, but with Ernest hurt, she had expected the Tantabus to tear the attic roof off at any second.  The vacuum was offline.  When Ernest was stricken down, the Nimbus Sucker 9000’s pressure gauge had spiked and gone critical.  Thinking quickly, Pipsqueak cut the power to the machine and said that something must be blocking the hose.   The orange unicorn knew what she had to do.  Taking a deep breath she wiped her tears and stepped out onto the roof, determined to finish Ernent’s work.              

The Tantabus attacked the Princess of the Night with renewed vigor.  With that cursed biped out of the way the cloud was slowly regrowing in spite of the legions of pegasi trying to destroy it.  The cloud was fighting back with lightning of its own, sending many pegasi plummeting out of the skies with lightning strikes and gail force winds.  Luna’s familiar had tried multiple times to destroy the place where the vacuum was but couldn’t.  Princess Luna was there to stop each attack with her magic.  The ruler of the Night was battered, bruised, and bleeding but the Tantabus could feel a great rage had been ignited within the monarch when the biped had fallen.  Again the titans clashed, the two combatants seeking to spear the other with their horns.  Luna gasped at the searing pain when her familiar scored a deep gash across her cheek.  The Princess responded by stabbing one of the forehooves of the Tantabus.  The gore was deep and the star creature reeled in the sky, favoring the fast mending hoof. The monster turned its attention back to the hospital and fired a lance of explosive magic at the attic.  Luna anticipated this attack and let fly her own counter spell.  Her magic engulfed the Tantabus’s missile and sent it crashing to the ground.  The earth-bound ponies dove for cover as the magic projectile exploded on the ground near the hospital.  The alicorn had just enough time to put up a barrier between herself and the monster.  The Tantabus was once again on the offensive, trying to strike at The Princess with its razor-wings.  Luna had anticipated that too.  Everytime she defended the hospital, there was an opening for the Tantabus to strike.  If only somepony could get the vacuum working again, the Princess thought.

Several Pegasai had tried to dive for the vacuum hose dangling off the side of the hospital.  But nopony could get close to it.  The cloud clones of the Tantabus were chasing off anypony that got too close to the vacuum.  

From the corner of her eye Princess Luna saw a spell-camouflaged unicorn climb out the hatch-way from the attic and onto the roof of the hospital.  With reckless abandonment, the alicorn launched herself at the Tantabus.  She needed her familiar to be focused on her and not on what was happening on the roof.

Sunset Shimmer moved slowly, following the vacuum hose.  To the untrained eye, it looked like several shingles on the roof were moving in concert.  Inch by inch the former bully made her way to her goal.   She crawled forward and when she reached the top of the gable, her heart sank.  Six of the Tantabus cloud clones guarded the hose that was dangling over the edge of the hospital.  Sunset looked around frantically.  Plans and schemes formed in her head but just as quickly each one was discarded.  Think, Sunset think.  What would Ernest do?  She thought back to just a day ago when Ernest had been talking to her while repairing one of the blenders in the lunchroom.  He had said something weird.  He had dressed up as Auntie Nelda to sneak outside of prison . . . something like that.  But . . . that’s it.

Sunset hid behind the gable and dropped her camouflage magic.  She cast a new spell that made her look like one of the Tantabus clones.  She looked down at herself and saw that her body had taken on a wispy dark gray appearance.  Standing up straight and looking as regal as possible, Sunset walked majestically over the rise and straight at the other cloud doppelgangers.  The disguised unicorn gulped as she approached.  The clones did not seem to notice her.  Their attention was focused on the skies, watching for pegasi.  Moving slowly, Sunset Shimmer wondered at the capabilities of these cloud constructs.  The pony concentrated on slowly pulling up the hose with her magic, while at the same time maintaining her disguise spell.  This feat wasn’t easy, but it was nothing Sunset couldn’t handle.  After all, she had been trained by Celestia herself.  Sunset felt a pang of guilt at the thought of her old mentor.  She made a note to return to Canterlot if she managed to live through Nightmare Night and apologize to her teacher.  When she finally had the end of the hose in her hooves, she looked at the nozzle and frowned.  The nozzle had been melted shut where Ernest had been holding it.  Sunset thought quickly on how she could fix the damaged part when she felt something nudge her from behind.  All six of the constructs were looking right at her.  It was like she was in a Daring Doo novel and she had just picked up a holy relic in some sort of temple.  The traps were triggered, and now it was time to run.  

The Tantabus clones were like the original.  They didn’t have a face, but Sunset could tell that these things saw her, and that she was a threat to them.  The monsters surrounded her.  The unicorn could have teleported out of there, but she couldn’t take the hose with her.  Sunset let her disguise spell fade away.  She was not leaving without this hose.  Her horn glowed in readiness, but before Sunset could cast a spell or the clones could attack, one of the replicas spasmed and dissolved as lighting coursed through its body followed by a boom of thunder.  Sunset and the five remaining golems looked up to see a wingless-man floating above the hospital.  The unicorn’s breath caught in her throat when she looked at her hero.  His armor was gone, his clothes were ragged, his skin was burned, and his eyes were blue orbs of electricity shining like beacons.  Sunset could see white lightning coursing through the veins of the newcomer, but there was no denying who it was.  Ernest’s hand was pointed at the clones like a gun.  Quicker then Sunny could blink, four more of the clones fell.  She had to shield her eyes from the brightness of the lightning.  And then Ernest spoke.  It was like Princess Luna using her Canterlot voice, and everyone stopped to stare and listen.  The powered up human was looking at the last Tantibus clone.  It might have been the after effects of the lightning, but Sunset could have sworn the thing was cowering.  

“Now I know what you’re thinking,” said Ernest in his best Clint Eastwood voice.  “And the answer is yes.  You should have stayed in bed today.  And no, they are called the Berenstain Bears not the Berenstein Bears.”

Not wanting to confront the god-like being in the sky, the clone lunged at the unicorn.  Sunset was ready for this and nimbly dodged out of the way of the attack.  Before the clone could pursue the fleeing unicorn, Ernest filled the cloud monster full of lightning, and the Tantabus doppelganger came apart.  Sunset clutched the hose with her magic and carefully picked her way back into the attic.  Her heart sang with happiness and relief.  Ernest was alive but she didn’t have time to celebrate.  She had a vacuum to fix.

Ernest watched Sunny retreat and smiled.  He turned his attention to the pegasi that were gazing in awe at him.  In his camelot voice he said, “We got them on the ropes, lads!  Once more into the breach!  For God, Camelot, Princess, and Country!”  

The burned and bruised ponies erupted in cheers and attacked the cloud with renewed fervor.

The Julius Caesar side of Ernest’s personality spoke up. “Excellent speech.  You'd've made a superb senator back in my day, rallying the troops of the Empire against Hannibal and Attila.” 

The aircraft gunner scoffed. “I’ve heard better.  Besides these are clouds.  When was the last time you saw a cloud storm a beach or drop a bomb at 5000 feet?  These clouds ain’t nothing.”  

Ernest let loose with more chain-lightning at a swarm of cloud monsters.  “Well, I will admit at the spur of the moment it wasn’t my best speech.”

“Oh honey, you did fine,” said the hairdresser side of Ernest’s brain.  “Don’t let Ace get you down.  He’s just mad that he can’t fly or shoot lightning out of his fingers like a Star Wars villain.”             

The cowboy chimed in. “You know back in Oklahoma there were strange things afoot.  I saw a critter made out of lightning that set the trees on fire.  It was a darn yellow rat with red cheeks that peeked at cha.  We finally caught the thing in a red and white box and sent it to Japan.  Never heard of it since.”  

Ernest dove through the air and blasted a cloud monster that was chasing one of Luna’s Royal Guard.  

The Troll Fighter paused to look around and revel in the moment.  Because he was destroying every Tantibus clone in sight, the pegasi were slowly gaining the upper hand over the Tantabus. 

The British explorer sighed happily. “What a glorious little war we have here.  I’ve never seen such bravery or pluck from any creature with more than two legs.”  

“Thank you.  You’re pretty courageous yourself, Ernest.”

The human recoiled in surprise, nearly plummeting to the ground.  The Princess of the Night was flying next to him with a look of worry mixed with amusement on her battered face.  “Are you well, Ernest?  I have never heard of anypony taking a magical lightning strike like that and living to tell the tale.  Much less become even more powerful.”

“I’m okay, ma’am.  The same thing happened a year ago when I was put in an electric chair and thrown against an electric cage.”

Luna’s eyes widened.  “You are full of surprises.  If you are able I would like to request your assistance in hunting down the Tantabus.  It has retreated into the Cumulus.  We must--”

The alicorn’s words were cut off by a familiar sound coming from the hospital.  There on the rooftop Sunset Shimmer was wielding the nozzle of the Nimbus Sucker 9000.

“Looks like Sunny has this under control, your Majesty.  All we gotta do is make sure the vacuum stays running, and we should be good to go.”

The Princess thought for a moment.  “So be it.  I was not relishing the prospect of going back in there.”

Between Princess Luna, the pegasi, and Ernest, the Tantabus could not get close to the hospital to destroy the vacuum.  Several more frantic minutes of desperate fighting by the Tantabus ensued.  But the outcome was no longer in doubt.  With Ernest and the Pegasi now devoted to protecting Sunset Shimmer and the Nimbus Sucker 9000, Luna was free to engage Tantabus whenever it left the cloud.  At last the storm creature no longer troubled Ponyville’s skies.  The Tantabus was a mere shadow of the beast it was hours ago.  Too weak to fly, the Tantabus glided down from the heavens to touch down in a field near the hospital.  The Princess was there to escort it as it flew down to earth.  The star creature looked up at its master and bowed its head in resignation.  Wordlessly Luna touched her horn to her familiar.  There was a flash of bright light, and the Tantabus was reabsorbed into its true master.     
> You Can't Kill the Metal
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You can't kill the metal,
The metal will live on.
Punk Rock tried to kill the metal
But they failed, as they were smitten to the ground.

Rotnart stirred when he heard the strange music filtering into his head.  He knew the voice accompanying the organ.  

New wave tried to kill the metal,
But they failed, as they were stricken down to the ground.
Grunge tried to kill the metal, hahahaha
They failed, as they were thrown to the ground.
Aaaargh! Yeah!
Aaaargh! Yeah!

The Troll’s eyes snapped open after hearing the ear-piercing scream.  His head came up in a panic.  After getting his breathing and pounding heart under control,he finally got a good look at his surroundings.  He knew this room.  He was underneath the dilapidated castle where he and Rabuf had encountered that duplicitous black alicorn pony.  To confirm his suspicions, there was the organ where the demonic music was coming from.  To his utter bewilderment, Rabuf was sitting on a wooden bench playing the organ like a master.  His brother was surrounded by several trolls jumping up and down, bobbing their heads, and screaming right along with Rabuf.    

No one can destroy the metal,
The metal will strike you down with a vicious blow.
We are the vanquished foes of the metal
We tried to win, for why, we do not know.

The former King tried to move his legs but found that he was shackled to the stone wall of the basement.  With the other trolls distracted, he tested the bindings around his wrists and feet.  A huge fist slammed into the wall inches away from Rotnart’s head.  If the former King hadn't been made of wood, Rotnart would have made a puddle between his legs.  Rotnart followed the fist that was buried in the stone wall to its owner.  

“Going somewhere?” the massive troll asked.

The prisoner shook his head.

“Good answer,” said the much larger troll.    

Over the din of the music, Rotnart wracked his brain for answers.  None of his brothers and sisters his father had created back on Earth had grown to the size of this goliath.  And he was not the only one of his kind.  Ignoring the piercing glare of his goaler, Rotnart beheld more monsterish trolls in the moshpit his brother’s concert had created.  They were easily twice the height of himself and Rabuf.  Some of the giants were encased in full-plate armor.  Others were garbed in some sort of tree-bark protection like the goliath who was watching him intently.  

New wave tried to destroy the metal, but the metal had its way,
Grunge then tried to dethrone the metal, but metal was in the way.
Punk Rock tried to destroy the metal, but metal was much too strong,
Techno tried to defile the metal, but techno was proven wrong.
Yeah!

To his continued surprise, more mutant trolls were coming down the slide to join the party.  These newcomers were not giants but looked like they had more in common with gargoyles.  These trolls were hunched and lanky and sported great leathery wings that could get them air-borne in moments. 

Metal!
It comes from hell!

The strange concert continued.  Rabuf reveled in the attention as he played the last few chords of the song.  Rotnart noticed that he was not the only one being kept against his will.  When did he get here? Rotnart thought.  A white bound and gagged unicorn had been tied to the stone wall just like he was.  The pony’s blue mane was matted with dirt and debris.  And many bruises were visible underneath the equine’s snowy coat.  The pony was a unicorn.  Through the equine’s blindfold a white horn pregnant with black crystals poked through the fabric. 

“Well, look who’s awake,” called Rabuf.  

Rotnart turned his attention back to the concert.  The music had stopped and the former King found himself the center of attention of every troll in the room.  If looks could kill, Rotnart knew that he would have been dead a hundred times over.  Rabuf beamed down at him from his organ bench.  His was the only smiling face in an ocean of hostile glares and sneers. 

Without turning around, Rabuf played a couple of notes on the black organ.  Sections of the northern and southern masonry squealed as they oscillated on great hinges that hadn’t been lubricated in centuries.  Rotnart winced at the agony-inducing sound.  The walls slowly swung forward to reveal stone staircases leading upwards.

“Okay, you filthy animals.  Upstairs we got an all-you-can-eat buffet of dirt-kebabs, bark de bonsai, and a soup made from the most exquisite of squirrel droppings.  Knock yourselves out.”

The trolls became jubilant at this news and raced up the stairs.  Even the guard that had been watching Rotnart barreled past others.  Some of the slower trolls cold-cocked their neighbors by punching them in the face as hard as they could.

Rabuf sighed and smiled at the good-natured troll fun.  “I meant that you should go up the stairs and partake of the food, but whatever.”

The few more dimwitted giants finally caught on and lumbered after their comrades.  After a few moments, the basement was nearly empty.  Save for a few trolls that slumbered on the floor and a small female troll that stood near Rabuf.  To his disgust, it was one of those repugnant mutant trolls that he had encountered in Ponyville.  Now that he had a good look at the strange looking thing, the freakish she-troll looked like it had more in common with a squirrel with its twitching furry tail and enormous buck teeth.  Rotnart hoped that his brother wasn’t making any more of these abominations.       

Rabuf strolled from the organ to meet his brother, the smaller troll advancing in his wake.  Rotnart was struck by the way his younger sibling carried himself.  Gone was the incompetent clumsy troll who had bumbled about and (even by troll standards) had been mentally deficient.  The younger troll was still dressed in rags but walked like a King.  Rabuf came right up to his brother and without missing a beat embraced him.  embraced him as best he could given his brother’s movement restrictions.  While maintaining the hug, Rabuf said, “It’s good to see you bro.  I thought we lost you there for a while.  How’s it hanging?”

Rotnart looked around the basement before finally glancing back at Rabuf.  He shrugged and waved his manacled hand in a gesture that meant, “Could be better.  Could be worse.”

Rabuf sighed.  “The woodpecker curse is a pain in the rear for everyone.”  Rotnart’s younger brother turned to his companion.  “The King needs a voice.”

“What kind of voice?” asked the other troll with relish.

Rabuf thought for a moment.  “Eh, surprise me.”

“With pleasure.”

Rotnart’s wooden eyes widened with shock as a beam of light shot out of the palm of the little she-troll. The lance of magic connected underneath his chin.  The sensation was not unpleasant.  He could feel something in his throat knit back together that had been sundered when he took on the wood curse.

“Go ahead, try it out.”

Rotnart cleared his throat.  It sounded like someone was running over gravel with a truck.  “It’s about time.”  The wooden troll paused after hearing what he just said.  “You Fu(*king C#$k suckers.”  

Rabuf and his bodyguard tried to suppress their mirth for all of two seconds before dissolving into gales of laughter.  Rotnart was furious with his new high-pitched and absurdly squeaky voice.  He struggled against his iron bindings but to no avail.  “Rabuf.  I swear on our Father’s exploded corpse I will drown you and your pet freak in milk if you don’t change my voice right now.”  

Rabuf wiped a tear from his eye.  “Forgive me, brother.  I’ll have Hctorc Retib give you a new voice.”  After several giggles the troll regained his composure.  “Let me ask you something first.  Why did you betray us?”

The question was asked with a smile, but even so Rotnart could feel the temperature in the room drop.  He knew that he’d have to be very careful about what he said next.  “I’m no traitor.  I sacrificed myself for you so you could get away and carry on our father’s work.”  The wooden troll looked at the mutant.  “And I can say with absolute certainty you screwed the pooch on that one.  What’d you do?  Grab a couple of squirrels and stick them in the tree?  I can $!@* a better troll than her.” 

With a gesture, the mutant stopped the magic that was supplying Rotnart’s voice.  And with a word, her hands ignited into two emerald flames. 

Rotnart’s jaw dropped in horror.  He was all too aware just how flammable he was in his current form.  He tried to yell at his brother to call her off but realized that he could no longer talk. The little monster advanced with malice in her eyes.  Rabuf watched the spectacle with interest as Rotnart flailed uselessly.  Hctorc Retib bent down on one knee and pointed a flaming finger up at the sole of the wooden troll’s foot.  

The Troll King silently screamed as the mutant burned him.  The agony was beyond anything Rotnart had ever experienced in his life.  The torture seemed to last for an eternity, and the smell of burning wood filled the basement.    

“Alright.  Enough with the foot tickling,” Rabuf finally said.

And just like that, the tourture stopped.

While Rotnart writhed in pain he heard his brother say.  “I used three opossum dolls, a squirrel, and that one doll that looks like a furry goat lizard.  I nearly took over the town with just 50 of them.  All in all, I think things turned out okay.”

Trying to focus on something other than the pain, Rotnart thought of his brother’s words.  Furry goat monster?  Discord?  He used the Discord doll to create her?  His thoughts were interrupted when he felt that familiar tingling feeling in his throat.  He glanced at his tormenter and sure enough the little mutant was using her magic again.

“Now about what went down in the town.  You stopped a perfectly good baby opossum harvesting operation.  Why?” asked Rabuf.  

Rotnart gathered his thoughts and ignored the burnt wood smell.  Why did he save that pony with the pink bow in her mane?  He could have just let the ambush happen and rejoin his kin.  But for some reason that had felt wrong.  Did he actually care about what happened to that pony and her friends he saved?  To his dismay, he knew the answer to that question.  He also knew there was no way he would leave this basement alive if he told his brother this revelation.  He needed an answer that wouldn’t get him killed.  An excuse formed in his mind that wasn’t half bad.  And better yet, it was true.  “Because I don’t want my brothers and sisters working for that evil alicorn b!3ch.”  The Troll King was annoyed that his voice was still high and squeaky, but he bit his tongue.   “The Pony of Shadows is using us, Rabuf.  She’s using you.  I’ve seen her mind.  We’re as disposable as yesterday’s C*m napkin to her.  Once we’ve conquered this planet, she’ll kill us all.”

Rabuf stroked his chin.  “That’ll be tough for her to do if she’s dead.”

Rotnart looked at his brother with genuine curiosity.  “Dead?  You killed her?”

“Naw.  Another flying opossum did that.  The way I understand it from our eyes and ears in the air, our black flying opossum was fighting a dark blue flying opossum.  The blue opossum that was fighting our black opossum was losing, so she puked up a meaner angrier second black opossum.  Now this new black opossum ate our black opossum.  Make sense so far?”

The wooden troll shook his head. 

Rabuf continued.  “So no matter how you split it, we’re down a black opossum.  So these two other opossums fight it out, and the blue opossum that puked up the meaner, angrier black opossum ate the meaner, angrier black opossum.  So now there’s only one opossum that flies and has a horn on its head.”  Rabuf thought for a moment.  “Oh, the meaner angrier black opossum was making this big cloud in the sky for some reason, but now it's gone.”

“And good riddance.  I sensed powerful magic coming from that cumulous,” Hctorc Retib chimed in.  

Rotnart’s brain hurt from his brother’s explanation of the aerial battle.   He had caught glimpses of the struggle when he was still with the Crusaders.  From what he could glean, The Pony of Shadow was gone, that much was certain.  That would mean that the Princess he had released had to be the one who had bested her.  That was also a piece of information he resolved not to share with his sibling.  Rotnart looked over to the white unicorn.  “Where does he fit into all this?”

Rabuf didn’t answer his brother at first.  Instead the younger troll was taking a good long look at his older sibling as if seeing him for the first time.  A bad feeling settled in the pit of Rotnart’s stomach.  He knew what his brother was thinking.   Finally Rabuf said, “That's a good question.  But I have a better one.  Which opossum did you free?”  The younger troll wagged his finger at his older brother.  “You know you shouldn’t be doing that.”

And there it was.  Rotnart would have asked the same if he was in Rabuf’s shoes.  He was almost glad he was turned to wood so that he couldn’t sweat.  “I, I turned one of those horses that the Pony of Shadows warned us about back.  If I hadn’t, they would have killed me.”

Rabuf nodded to Hctorc Retib.  One of her hands reignited, and she took a step forward towards Rotnart. “Which one?” she asked.

“I don’t know!” screamed Rotnart.  “The one with wings and a blue coat.  I don’t know their Fu##ing names!”  

Rabuf motioned to his bodyguard to back down.  “Okay, I think I know which one he’s talking about.  According to our now very dead black opossum friend, it’s the opossum that flies real fast, has rainbow tail fur, and has a bit of an attitude.  Right?”

Rotnart nodded in relief.  “Yeah, sure that’s her.”

“He’s lying,” Hctorc Retib declared.    

“No, I’m not,” pleaded Rotnart.  Anger warred with terror when the little mutant ratted him out.

“Your heart says otherwise,” the little troll shot back.  “I can hear it beat faster all the way from over here.”

Rotnart bit back a curse.  He could actually hear his heart pumping.  It sounded like a woodpecker trying to break free from his chest.  He had heard it before when he freed the alicorn, and she was deciding his fate.  Breathing deeply, he tried to slow his heart so it was less audible.  

Rabuf favored his brother with a penetrating stare.  Just like Princess Luna, another was deciding his destiny.  At last Rabuf pointed to the bound pony next to Rotnart.  “We picked him up close to the opossum town.  The symbol things on his armor suggests that he’s an honest to Trantor Prince of the Crystal Empire.”

“Crystal Empire?”  The name sent a chill down Rotnart’s wooden spine.  He knew of that place even though he’d never heard its name.  He thought about the memories and experiences he had inherited from his father.  He could almost hear Trantor’s voice bellowing orders to legions of troll warriors.  He could feel the snow pelting his face as he advanced towards an enormous pony city.  He battled ponies trying to resist the might of King Sombra.  And then to his horror, the city itself attacked from its highest point.  A great multi-colored beam of weaponized love reached out and decimated his warriors by the thousands.  He was running, all order and semblance of command were gone.  Survival was the objective.  He and what was left of the army charged forward into the city, through the climate barrier that protected the metropolis from the elements and . . .

“You see it too, don’t you?” asked Rabuf.

Rotnart blinked and took in a deep lungful of air.  The memory had been so real.  “I remember the Crystal Empire.”        

Rabuf sighed.  “I’ll be honest.  Many of my new friends say I should kill you, bro.”

“I voted to off you,” Hctorc Retib said happily.

The troll leader grinned as he took in Rotnart’s horrified look.  “And to be honest, that might not be the worst idea a gang of trolls ever came up with.  Some of what you’re saying doesn't smell right.  I can’t quite sink my teeth into it, but something’s wrong with you.  Between you fighting our new brothers and sisters and you looking like a wood chipper’s wet dream, that should be enough to send you down below to meet dad.”

The little troll nodded in agreement.

Panic gripped Rotnart’s breast.  His heart felt like it would explode. It was beating so hard.  “No!  N,N,No-.  Not after everything I’ve done for our people!”  The fear coursing through his body made his voice rise even higher.  “Brother.  How can you do this?  Remember all the good times we had?”  He glanced around the basement.  “When we explored this place together?  When we almost took over Ponyville?  Just the two of us.  You and me.  Didn’t you like being my wing-troll?  My number two?”

Rabuf’s face darkened.  “I’m talking to the biggest pile of number two I’ve ever seen.”

The venom in his brother’s voice left the wooden troll stunned.  “But you . . .”

“But what?” asked Rabuf.  “Did you think I liked following you around and taking your crap?  I’ve lost count of how many times you threatened to kill me.  Just because I was born with half a thinker doesn’t make me a moron.  The only reason I put up with you and that black Opossum of Shadows is so that I could get where I’m standing right now.  If people and opossums think that you’re the biggest idiot that ever lived, they let their guard down.  So who's the bigger dummy?  The dummy about to take over the world or the high and mighty wood king chained to a wall?”  

Rotnart’s head drooped down in resignation.  He closed his eyes in defeat and waited. 

“You’re lucky I still have a use for you.  Otherwise I’d use your wooden hide for fire kindling.    

Rotnart slowly tilted his head back up.  “What do you want?”

Rabuf spoke slowly.  “Ernest P. Worrell is back.”

Hctorc Retib swallowed nervously.  Her eyes twitched about the room in fear at the mention of the human’s name.

The older troll blinked a couple of times.  “Okay.  What do you want me to do about it?”

Rabuf frowned.  “I’d thought you would be more surprised.  Our father’s killer is in Opossumville.  And didn’t you say a bear ate him or something?”

Rotnart shook his head.  “Discord implied he was probably being eaten by a bear.  And no, I’m not surprised.  That man has invisible god-tier plot armor that’s three and a half feet thick.  Our father survived  being enslaved by King Sombra, the Crystal Heart Wars, and two hundred years of imprisonment underneath an oak.  He’s broken the backs of countless pony armies by himself and turned entire towns into dolls.”  He started to laugh, his voice taking on a high-pitched yipping sound.  “And this hayseed, good for nothing bumpkin is the one who laid him low.”          

Rabuf smiled.  “Yeah, when you put it like that, it is kind of funny.”  The troll sobered quickly.  “You know what else is funny?”  Not waiting for a reply Rabuf continued talking.  “Take a look at this.”  The new troll king reached into one of his pockets.  In his grubby hand was a piece of well-abused lavender paper.  Rabuf unfolded the parchment, looked at it, and wiped it on his tunic.  “I had my finest opossum decrypters go over this.  They think the message is legit.”  Rabuf walked forward and thrust the paper at Rotnart’s eyes so he could read it.

The wooden golem stared at the paper for about a minute.  Finally Rotnart looked at his brother, confusion written all over his face.  “They can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?  Even though we got 'em on the ropes, those crazy critters want us to do what they want.”  Rabuf started to count on his fingers.  “First they want us to turn their lucky special tree back to the way it was.  Second, they want us to turn all those opossum dolls back to the way they were.”  Rabuf was about to count down to his third finger when he hesitated and turned to his helper.  “What comes after second?”

“Third, sir,” replied Hctorc Retib.

“And third, not only do they want their boy back. . .”  Rabuf said, nodding at the white unicorn.  “They also want you.”

“Which is another reason why we should kill him added to the mountain of other reasons we should kill him,” Hctorc Retib muttered darkly.  

Rabuf continued as if his subordinate had not spoken.  “After we’ve done all that and some other stuff, they’ll let us live on a frozen reservation somewhere close to the Crystal Empire where they can murder us with love magic whenever they feel like.  And you know what?  This sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

The magic user looked at her leader quizzically.  “What?”

Rotnart was also looking at his brother with amazement.  “Really?”

Rabuf laughed.  “Hell no.  Here’s what I’m thinking.  We send them our own message saying that we’ll do whatever they want only if they give us Ernest P. Worrell to do with as we want.  

Rotnart laughed in his brother’s face.  “They’re not that stupid.  They’ll know it’s a trap.  Our kind have pulled stunts like this in the past.”  

The younger troll shrugged.  “Maybe it’ll work, maybe not.  But what I do know is that if they don’t show up with Ernest P. Worrell at a time and place of my choosing, then both you and the Prince will have a date with the pointy end of my sword.”

Hctorc Retib smiled at that.

Rotnart gulped and changed the subject.  “Okay.  But what if they do?”

“Then you get a shot at proving you're still a troll by helping us kill Ernest.  As you say, they’ll probably know it’s a trap, and it’ll take a lot of troll flesh to bring this human demi-god down.  If you do that, then me and the tribe will welcome you back into the fold with open arms.  Splinters and all.”
> Hakuna Matata
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ernest looked down at the pristine white paper in his hands.  The writing on the parchment was pleasing to the eye, all the delicate letters were gracefully elegant and flowed crisply into each other.  The message that was wrapped in the pretty-looking words was ugly as sin.  

Dear Night Princess,

We have in our possession the Prince of the Crystal Empire and the traitor, Rotnart.  The League of Extraordinary Opossum Haters recognizes that defeating an entire nation of ponies and other creatures is a task beyond even us.  Therefore, after due consideration, we would like to meet and discuss our organization’s terms of surrender as laid out by your previous letter.  You are to come alone, save for one exception.  Failure to do so will result in our assumption that a state of war remains with Equestria and will result in the deaths of the aforementioned captives.  Our only demand is that you bring and surrender to us the descendant of Phenias E. Worrell, Ernest P. Worrell.  If he is not present at the meeting, the captives shall be executed via disembowelment.   


	Have a nice day


Ernest gulped.  “Well, at least they’re talking to us.”  The Redneck shuffled the letter so that he was looking at a crudely drawn map of the Everfree Forest.  A large red X was placed over a depiction of a structure with the words “11:30 in the morning.  Come without milk and don’t be late.”   Ernest lowered the map away from his face. Before him stood a familiar looking hut he and Rimshot had visited less than a fortnight ago.  

The human looked around.  “Uh, Princess.  I can’t help but notice a lack of drooling, squid-lipped stunties.   Are we at the right hut?”  Ernest tried to keep from talking too fast but failed miserably.  “Back in middle school I was given a map like this for a scavenger hunt.  After two days of searching for a ball of yarn, I ended up in a patriot missile bunker answering a lot of questions from these guys in shiny suits.  So I understand if we’re not at the right place.  Things like that happen.”

Princess Luna eyed the depths of the forest warily, taking her companion’s incessant chattering in stride.  Truth be told she was uneasy too.  She just did a better job of hiding it. “I am confident this is the location where the trolls wish to meet.”  She looked up at the sky and made a quick calculation.  “It’s precisely 11:25 in the morning.  The trolls should be showing up any second.”  

Ernest nodded.  He wished he could have brought Rimshot with him but knew that he wouldn’t have been a very good owner if he had.  Not that his pet was a whole lot safer in Ponyville, but being in a fortified town was better than being at a “peace conference” with trolls.  He and that beagle had been through thick and thin together, and he couldn’t bear the thought of Rimshot being turned into a wooden doll a second time.  The Troll Fighter was about to say something else when he tripped over an upturned rock sticking out of the ground.  Losing his footing, the Redneck tumbled to the ground.  

“Are you well, Ernest?” asked the Princess.

The human scrambled to his feet and puffed out his chest.  In a show of bravado, Ernest pointed to the offending rock and said, “I thought it was a landmine.  I was attempting to throw myself upon it so that you would be spared harm, my Liege.”

Luna was torn between scolding Ernest for joking about dying for her and laughing.  The fact that this stranger had literally almost died fighting for her realm and subjects made Ernent’s joke very potent.  On the other hoof, it was not uncommon for one to make levity where one could find it.  In the end she smiled.  “The gesture is appreciated, good sir.  Just be more care---.”

Ernest looked at the pony strangely.  “Uh . . . be more caffeinated?  Be more carefree?  More courageous?  I can do that one.”

Luna brought a hoof up to her lips, silencing the Troll Fighter.  She turned her attention to the area around the rock Ernest had tripped over.  The alicorn studied the spot.  To her, it looked like the soil had been upturned and then hastily compressed.  As if someone had dug a hole and then filled it back up again.  She looked at other spots in the dirt surrounding Zecora’s home.  Sure enough, there were other circular places where the ground had been disturbed.  

Motioning Ernest to come stand near where she was standing, she whispered to him.  “This is definitely an ambush.  I’d bet my crown that there is a troll buried here.”  She pointed down at the churned earth.  “And there, and there, and there.  I count no less than thirty disguised cavities in the ground.”  

The Troll Fighter’s eyes widened to an almost comical diameter.  Needing to know for himself, he pressed his ear to the dirt and listened.  To his horror, he could hear breathing.  If he had not known better, it sounded like a bear was hibernating under his feet.  Fighting to keep his legs from shaking, Ernest stood and nodded.  “Unless we’re over a very loud water pipe, or graboids have infested this part of the forest,   . . . which is possible.  There’s a troll down there.”

Luna nodded.  

“What do we do?”  whispered Ernest on the verge of panic.  “I can’t fly or shoot lightning out of my hands anymore.  We can’t leave, and we didn’t bring any Troll-Be-Gone or authentic Bulgarian Miak.  We’re sitting ducks here.” 

“Calm yourself, Ernest.  We are not without allies in the Everfree.  Some of Fluttershy’s friends are aware of our plight and have agreed to help us.  Also, as you know, I am not completely defenseless.”  She smiled confidently.  “Trust me, you’re in good hooves.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Call me, Luna.  Heaven knows your bravery in last night’s action has earned thee the right to call us by our forename.”

Ernest’s cheeks reddened as he laughed.  “Eh heh, heh, heh.  Just doing my job, ma--, I mean, Luna.”  The Troll Fighter took a deep breath.  “So what do we do now?”

“We wait.  That’s the hardest part,” said Luna, grimly.



Earlier



Iarumas parted the sea of trolls with his mere presence.  He looked to his left and then to his right.  Even those who were taller and stronger could not meet the blazing intensity of his gaze.  Beyond the ocean of trolls was the blackened Tree of Harmony.  As he got closer to the tree, his footing became more unsteady.  The earth here resembled a lunar surface with the birthing of so many trolls.  His hand grasped the sword given to him by his chieftain, his dark knuckles turning white.  He feared what was to come.  He was about to become strong and powerful beyond his wildest expectation.  His power might even surpass that of mighty Trantor.  But it wouldn’t last, it couldn’t last.  No troll could wield so much power for very long before being consumed by it.  He was close now.  He could see a great hole in the side of the tree where the soul-energy of the dolls were harvested to create the army that he would lead.  The chamber served one other purpose as well.  

Rabuf greeted his champion.  He placed his arms on his warrior’s shoulders and delivered unto him the ritual headbutt salute.  “Are you ready?”

Iarumas reeled and took a step back.  After spitting out a bloody tooth, he sheathed his sword and put his own hands on his chieftain's shoulders.  “I am.”  He dropped his leader with a headbutt of his own.  He could feel Rabuf’s nose shatter beneath his hard head.       

Hctorc Retib was there to help her master back to his feet, but before she could, Iarumas was there holding out his hand for his leader to take.  The two trolls clasped forearms and Rabuf was pulled to his feet, blood gushing from his ruined nose.  Rabuf was smiling through the pain.  “Enter the tree, my avatar of desolation.  Enter and grow strong.  And remember, don’t attack the town until you see the signal.”

The champion nodded.  He unbuckled the sword at his side and reverently surrendered the blade back to his master.  Sucking in his gut, the hulking troll wiggled his way into the tree’s hollow.  Iarumas closed his eyes and uttered the sacred words in the guttural language of the trolls.  “Come, evil demons.  Make me strong.” 

The demons came.  Electric blue entities swirled around the chosen one and the Tree of Harmony came alive with the collective moanes of the captured spirits.  Wherever these beings of floating energy touched the troll, the troll was changed.  Iarumas felt his already long fingernails lengthen into rending claws.  He could feel horns piercing the flesh of his scalp.  The pain was all consuming; his body was being sundered and remade like a flawed blade being reforged in hellfire.  “Do . . . Your . . . Worst,” whispered the champion.      

Rabuf watched his warrior’s transformation with admiration, horror, and wonder.  He fought the urge to shutter in front of his fellow trolls.  At last he turned away from the metamorphosis and looked at his most trusted Lieutenant.  “We should get started on that surrender meeting we got going.  Take your best warriors and lay out the welcome mat.  I’ll be along shortly.”

Hctorc Retib nodded, snapped her fingers, and disappeared. 

************************************************************************

“Run the numbers by me again, Spike.”

The baby dragon sighed and stopped fiddling with the bandages that swaddled his head and consulted the clipboard in his talons.  “If we exclude what Princess Luna has taken for her mission, and If we combine what the town has left with what the Crystal Empire Ponies and the guards from Canterlot have, there is roughly 120 gallons of 2% milk, 90 gallons of whole milk, 67 boxes of powdered milk, 90 gallons of ice cream, 20 gallons of skim milk, 200 ice cream sandwiches and cakes of different lengths, and 100 butter containers including unopened boxes of stick butter.”

Twilight could feel her tender horn twitching underneath her own bandages.  She wanted to levitate the clipboard out of the dragon’s claws and see for herself, but the Doctors had warned against using her magic.  “Have the foraging parties found any dairy products in the destroyed homes from the other troll attacks?”

Spike shook his head which caused the dragon to wince in pain.  “This is everything.”

Twilight bit her hoof, It will have to do.  She thought.  No more help could get through the swarming ring of troll flyers.  The trolls were now so numerous that whenever a pegasi went on a scouting mission, dozens of trolls rose up from the Everfree to intercept the pony.  The Princess of Friendship looked down at her hooves to see several pieces of parchment.  Each one of them was a garbled unintelligible message from Princess Celestia.  Whatever evil magic the trolls were using was interfering with the magic ley lines that connected Ponyville to the outside world.  She had seen this once before when Discord had broken free from his prison of stone and wreaked havoc on the town.  Twilight had not been able to commune effectively with the Princess for half an hour.  

“Has the . . .”

“Yes, Twilight.  All the milk, ice cream, and butter has been given to everypony that can throw, buck, or fly.  Commander Spitfire and the rest of the Ponyville Leaders have their ponies in position.  I’ve told you this twice already.”  Her assistant stated in a neutral manner.   

The Princess sighed.  From her vantage point on top of the hospital she could see as much.  Hundreds of ponies were manning strongpoints throughout the town waiting for the storm to begin.  Twilight was about to command Spike to write another letter to Princess Celestia when she heard hoofbeats coming up the attic stairs.  The alicorn turned to see Sunset Shimmer emerge onto the roof.  Twilight regarded the unicorn before glancing across town at the massive clock built into City Hall.  “11:30,” the pony muttered, lost in thought. 

Sunset swallowed.  She approached the Princess and her assistant like she was treading on eggshells.  She had been dreading this moment ever since she had arrived with Ernest the night before.

Spike looked up from his clipboard.  “Hey, Sunset.  How’s it goin?   Did you find that safe behind the Celestia painting?”              

The unicorn blinked.  She had not expected the dragon to be so friendly now that they weren’t surrounded by other ponies.  “Uh, yeah.  That’s why I’m here.  Zecora and I found the safe with your friends in it.  I put Fluttershy, Rarity, and the others in a suitcase and gave it to Spitfire.”  

“Good job.  I’m just glad my melon didn’t get banged up enough that I forgot the combination to the safe.”  He put a hand absently up to his bandaged scalp.  “How are things in town?  Everything looking good?”

Sunset shrugged.  “I guess.  Everypony is on edge waiting for the trolls to make their move.  I can’t blame them for that.”  She looked out the corner of her eye and saw the stairway that led back down into the hospital and away from these two.  “Listen, Spike, I’m glad you’re up and about, but I should get back to my post.  I don’t want the trolls to jump us when we’re not looking.”

Without waiting for an answer, the unicorn turned and began heading away from her former enemies.  

“Sunset, wait a moment.”

The pony froze.

“Spike, take a letter.”

Both the unicorn and the dragon stood stunned for a moment.  Spike was the first to recover.  He shrugged.  “It’s not like I have anything better to do.  Ready when you are.”

Twilight cleared her throat.

“Dear Princess Celestia,

As you are now well aware, the town of Ponyville is under siege by the descendants of the trolls corrupted by King Sombra.  We have every intention of overcoming this ancient enemy in the coming hours with the help of friends, both new and old.”

Princess Twilight looked squarely at Sunset Shimmer when she spoke next.  “What I wish to make known to you is that I would not be having this correspondence with you nor do I believe that there would be a Ponyville to save without the bravery, perseverance, and ingenuity of Sunset Shimmer.”

The unicorn’s breath caught in her throat.

“I will detail her exploits at the Ponyville Hospital in a future letter.  I did not witness her deeds firsthand, but through testimony by your Sister, Commander Spitfire, and several other ponies of note, there leaves little doubt in my mind the validity of the claims.  Therefore, when this crisis has been put to rest, I recommend a full pardon for services rendered to the Equestrian nation.  


Sincerely Your Faithful Servant,



Twilight Sparkle”


Sunset gaped at the Princess.  This was the last thing she had ever expected to hear from the pony she had tormented not so long ago.  Words failed her.  She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound was heard.  

Spike rolled up the message and sent it on its way with a breath of emerald flame.  “Finally, I got to send off some good news.” 

Twilight grinned. “I know, right?”  She turned her attention to Sunset.  “Odds are that message will be just as scrambled as the ones we’re getting, but I thought Celestia should be made aware of what you’ve done for this town.  When we’ve finally defeated the trolls, all the messages should be restored to normal.”

Fighting back tears, the orange unicorn whispered, “Thank you, Princess.” 

“You’re more than welcome.  When this is over, I’d like to talk to you some more.  Now return to your post and be ready.”

************************************************************************

“Twelve o’clock,” murmured Princess Luna.  The alicorn was looking up at the sun.

The Trollfighter looked up at the sun but was blinded by the light.  “Your move, Luna.”

The alicorn looked down and marked the ground with an X and drew a line through two other Xs along with the one she just made.

Ernest rubbed his eyes and stared down at the tic-tac-toe board drawn into the earth.  This was far from the only board they had scratched in the dirt.  The Princess had won them all.  Ernest pondered this for a few moments before asking, “You want to play again?”

Luna didn’t answer.  When Ernest turned his attention back to the alicorn, he saw that a small blue bird was chirping in the Princess’s ear.  Luna chirped back for a few seconds.  When the pony was done communicating, the bird flew away back into the forest.  

“Friend of yours?” asked Ernest.  

Luna smiled.  “Tall Feather is one of Fluttershy’s many forest friends, but he and I get along well enough.”

The Redneck scratched the top of his head through his hat.  “Did he have good news?”

“He said that the town has not yet been attacked and that there is a party of trolls about half a mile from our location, heading our direction.  A pony and a wooden troll are with them.”  

“It’s about time.  The last time I was this late to a party, I was stuck in the business end of my garbage truck, trying not to be turned into a cube of trash.”

Luna smiled.  This was not the first such story Ernest had told her while they were waiting for the trolls.  She had learned much about this alien.  Mainly that he was mythically durable, had a frightening number of other personalities, waffled between narcissism and crippling self-doubt, a closet genius, and most importantly he had a heart of solid gold.  “That must have been very painful.  But not as painful as the defeat I am about to deal you through our next tic-tac-toe game.”

Ernest wagged his finger at the pony.  “Oh no you don’t.  This next game is mine.  For I am Ernest P. Worell, Troll Fighter and Ghost Buster extraordinaire.”

About ten seconds later Ernest was drinking from the bitter cup of defeat.  

“How’d you get so good at this game?” 

Luna’s heart sank, her jovial nature deflating like a popped balloon.  “I had a lot of time to practice until recently.”

The Redneck nodded his head in understanding.  “Prison?”

This time it was Luna’s turn to nod.  “Did Sunset Shimmer tell you?”

“No.  But when I was in prison this was one of the games me and the other convicts played.  I didn’t win too many games there either.”

The alicorn’s eyes widened in surprise.  “I . . . didn’t think you were the type to end up in prison, Ernest.”  Realizing what she just said she immediately added, “My apologies.  I am in no position to judge you for whatever you’ve done.  I’m sure my actions were far, far worse.

Ernest stood up and brushed the grass off his jeans.  “Naw, You’re a good Princess.  I can tell.”

Luna blinked.  “How?  You don’t even know me?”

Ernest thought about that for a moment.  He looked off in the distance as he marshaled his thoughts.  “You’re right.  I don’t know you.  But your subjects do.”

The Princess looked at Ernest quizzically, “What do you mean?” 

“Well, when I was at that meeting of the minds before building the Nimbus Sucker 9000, I saw you doing your best to keep Ponyville safe.  You listened to everyone there and chose the option you thought would work.”  Ernest smiled, “And it just so happened the best option was mine.  Eh-heh-heh-heh.  Also, when I was flying around up there tango-ing with . . . whatever that was last night, I saw quite a few ponies flying by your side and watching your back.  And when you ate that cloud monster, I didn’t see one pony not cheering your name.  Some of your subjects even came up to hug you and shake your hoof.  Those are all very big pluses in my book.”  Ernest paused before continuing, his mouth going dry.  “Also, I kind of have a  crush on the Vice-Principal at the Canterlot High School who has the same name as you.  She is the nicest, kindest lady I know.  The kids love her, and she works very hard to be the best Vice-Principal she can be.  If you’re anything like her, then Camelot is in good hands,  . . . er, hooves.”

The Princess stared at the human.

Ernest panicked.  He had said too much.  In a fit of desperation he looked at the ground, frantically searching for the stick he had used to draw the tic-tac-toe games.  When he found it, he asked, “Uh, Eh-heh-heh-heh you want to play again?”  To his surprise he felt something pulling on his wrist.  He looked down to see blue magic enveloping his hands.  The next thing he knew, the alicorn had her hooves around Ernest enveloping him in a warm hug.  

“Thank you, Ernest, for your kind words and your heart-felt candor.  I can see how you’ve made friends with my subjects so easily.  And if my human counterpart cannot see your charms as I do, then she is an even greater fool then I was a thousand years ago.”

Ernest hugged the alicorn back.  All the while he was thinking, A thousand years ago?  Wow, botox really does work wonders.  Even Ernest P. Worell had the good sense not to say what he was thinking out loud.

The pony and the human played a few more rounds of tic-tac-toe.  Ernest even won one of those games, which made him immensely happy.  Luna was beaming too, savoring the calm before the storm.  Soon enough, the Princess heard the heavy tread of a company of trolls coming into view.  “Stand tall, Ernest.  Our hosts have finally arrived.  And remember, improv will do in a pinch, but try to stick to the script.”

************************************************************************

Rotnart took a deep breath, trying to steady his pounding heart.

“Relax, brother.  One way or another this will be over soon.  Just do your job and all will be forgiven,” said Rabuf.  

The wooden mockery of a troll swallowed and nodded.  It could have been his imagination, but it felt like they were being watched.  Whenever he looked into the trees, he noticed that the wildlife stared back.  Be it a bird, coyotes, or rabbits, they all seemed to take a keen interest in the trolls.  Rotnart didn’t know what to make of this strange animal behavior; all he knew was that it made him uncomfortable.  The troupe of trolls emerged from the forest.  And there they were, standing in a small clearing in front of a strangely decorated structure that wasn’t exactly a tree and not exactly a house.  Rotnart ignored the numerous tic-tac-toe games scattered on the ground.  He had eyes only for Ernest P. Worell and the Princess of the Night.    

It seemed so long ago since he had torn out that page in his father’s book and opened a way to Equestria.  How long had it been?  A matter of days, but it felt like years.  He remembered running through the portal, Worell’s iron chariot belching smoke and burning rubber a hair's breadth away from catching him.  In fact, it got so close it ran him over.  He remembered with a wince of phantom pain, his head smashing into the truck’s grill and the feel of the tires trying to turn his body into pulp.  From there, he had sacrificed one of his brothers and fled into the forest with every intention of resurrecting the Troll Nation.  After a few days in Equestria and especially after his brother corrupted the Tree of Harmony, the inherited memories from his father started to make sense.  The ancient battles Trantor had fought in the frozen north, beating at the gates of the Crystal Empire.  In a very strange twist of fate, Rotnart had played games with the Princess that had caused his father and King Sombra so much grief.  In those days, Princess Luna was a warrior without peer.  She hunted at night and took the lives of more trolls than any single creature that walked on four legs.  She had failed, though.  She and her army were driven back to Canterlot where she promised to return with her sister.  The alicorns were too late to save the Crystal Empire from conquest, but by then there had been only one troll left to slay.  And Trantor was rewarded with another world to conquer.  For 800 years Trantor wandered the earth, becoming a legend in countless human cultures, until at last he was bested.  Bested by Reverend Phenias Worell and imprisoned underneath an oak tree.  Trantor had prophesied his own second coming on the night before Halloween when another Worell would unknowingly release him.  Ernest P. Worell was as ridiculed and reviled as Phenias E. Worell was celebrated.  None of that mattered.  The lanky human had done what no one else could.  Ernest had killed Trantor, and he killed him with unconditional love.  

Before he knew it, Rotnart found himself standing before the two slayers.  The former King looked down to see if his false shackles still looked convincing.  Ten trolls were with him excluding his brother and Hctorc Retib.  It was a mix of hulking brutes, gangly flyers, and bedraggled sorcerers that formed the honor guard for his brother.  One of the brutes carried the comatose Prince of the Crystal Empire over his shoulder.  

Rabuf clapped his hands jovially.  “Well, here we are.”  The leader of the Troll Nation turned his full attention to Ernest.  The human was desperately trying not to cower before the small army of monsters.  “So this is Ernest P. Worell in the flesh.”

The Redneck smiled nervously back at Rabuf.  “Yep.  That’s me. Say, do you need your trash picked up?  After I get my truck fixed . . . again, I can swing by and grab whatever you want to get rid of.  I don’t know what the Ponyville rates are, but I’m sure I can cut you a deal.  We’re all friends here.  Right?  Eh-heh-heh-heh.”

Rabuf returned the smile.  His fragmented yellow teeth made him look even more menacing.  “I’m counting on it.  After all, what’s a village of wooden children worth between friends?”

Ernest blinked.  The words stirred something deep and primal within the Redneck’s heart. On their own accord his fists balled.  Gone was the earlier fear and trepidation of facing these nightmarish creatures.  “Yeah, you guys are real tough when you're messing with kids and dogs.  How about we settle this the old-fashioned way?  You and me, mono a mono.  Whoever can eat the most ice cream cones in five minutes wins the war, and the loser has to get out of town.”  Ernest pointed at Rotnart.  “Stumpy there can be the judge.”

Rabuf pretended to think about the Redneck’s proposal before saying, “Hmmmm, pass.”

Ernest wasn’t paying attention to the Troll leader; he was still pointing at Rotnart.  “You look familiar.  I think I’ve seen you in a pawn shop before.”

“Enough!” shouted Luna.  “We’re here to accept the surrender of the ‘League of Extraordinary Opossum Haters.’  Let us see to this business and be done with it.”

“You got it,” Rabuf said with enthusiasm.  He nodded to the enormous troll that still held Shining Armor.  The behemoth dropped the Prince unceremoniously to the ground, took off the blindfold, and removed a water-skin from his belt.  The troll poured water over the pony’s face until the Prince sputtered to life.   

The Prince wiped the water from his eyes and tried to stand.  His weak legs buckled underneath him.  Before he could fall, the unicorn found himself encompassed by a blue aura of magic.  “Wha-, What’s happening?  Am I dead?”      

Luna pulled the weakened pony to her side.  “Far from it, Prince Shining Armor.  We are in the midst of a prisoner exchange.”

Shining Armor’s eyes widened.  He struggled feebly in Luna’s magical grasp.  “What?  Don’t do it!  Don’t give them what they want!”

The Princess of the Night whispered something that only the Prince could hear.  “Trust me.”

The unicorn stopped squirming and took in the situation.  He saw the small army of trolls in front of Ernest and knew who he was being traded for.  His heart sank but he said nothing.  

Seeing the dejected look of the pony brought a smirk to Rabuf’s face.  He turned to Rotnart.  “Well, a deal’s a deal.  Go ahead, bro.”

There it was.  There was the signal to assassinate the human, the one who murdered his father.  He could feel the hidden knife in the sleeve of his ratty leather jerkin.  He had been given the clothing for this very purpose.  He could not hide a weapon on his body since the very clothes he had been wearing were now a part of him, thanks to the wood curse.  Rotnart closed his eyes and steadied his breathing.  Head bowed he took his first steps towards Ernest.  

The Troll Fighter watched the lumber-troll approach.  He knew he had seen this thing before.  He squinted at the monster’s face.  The golem was passing underneath the shadow of a tree, disturbing one of the many games he and Luna had been playing.  At that moment, the cursed troll raised his head to look at the human.  For Ernest this was when the puzzle pieces fell into place.  This was the troll he had followed into Equestria.  It was dark when he and Rimshot had given chase to this monster, its features highlighted by the portal it had opened to Equestria.  Ernest saw the glint of steel being drawn from a hidden sheath when the beast stepped into the sunlight.  The troll’s bonds fell off its wrists like wet spaghetti.           

Time slowed.  Rotnart knew that he was close to death, either from his own kin or from the troll-killers in front of him.  His senses were sharpened to a level he had never known.  Rotnart took in the shock of recognition on Ernent’s face.  He saw Princess Luna gathering energy to her horn in preparation for a spell.  But before Ernest could shout a warning or the alicorn could cast her magic, Rotnart acted first.  In one fluid movement the assassin drew his weapon, pivoted on his heel, turned, and hurled the knife at Hctorc Retib.  

The weapon flew out of Rotnart’s hand. Tumbling end over end before crashing hilt first against the skull of Rabuf’s lieutenant.  Hctorc Retib collapsed like a fallen oak, out cold.  Rotnart smiled.  Take that B*#ch, he thought.  Teach you to burn my feet.

By this point Rabuf was pointing and screaming incoherently at Rotnart, Ernest, and the blue opossum.  The winged monsters in Rabuf’s entourage spread their wings to protect their leader.  The mighty armored trolls advanced to engage their enemies.  And the smaller cloaked magic-users were bending down to touch the earth to wake their comrades.  Moments later, more trolls were erupting from the ground like miniature volcanoes spewing dirt in every direction.  Rotnart found himself surrounded by slabs of troll muscle and weapons.  He bared his wooden fangs and stomped the ground, bellowing a war cry.  He was about to wade into the fight when another blue aura roped around his torso.  Rotnart was yanked back just before his fellow trolls could dog-pile on him.  He was pulled through the air, his arms and legs flailing uselessly.  He looked over to his side and saw that Worell was being pulled along in a similar fashion.  Both troll and human came to a gentle rest at the hooves of Princess Luna.

Ernest stood and looked out at the sea of snarling troll faces coming straight towards them.  He nodded, “Yup, all according to plan.”

“This is according to plan?” asked Shining Armor dubiously.  

“Well, Luna did say that this thing would try and kill me,” Ernest replied pointing at a very scared looking Rotnart.  “But he didn’t, and to be fair, a few days ago I was trying to kill him.  So . . . hakuna matata?”

Without saying a word, Luna fired off a howling ball of magic from her horn.  The magic shrieked through the air like a bottle-rocket and detonated several hundred feet above the trees of the Everfree Forest.  The explosion created a cone of darkness against the blue sky that was visible for miles in every direction.  The monsters paid little heed to what was happening above them and pressed their attack against the four creatures that were marked for death.  Luna responded with fury of her own.  The alicorn blasted any troll that got too close to her or her three charges.  Having reunited with the Tantibus and the long lost part of her that had called herself the Pony of Shadows made her stronger than ever.  The trolls went flying in every direction, but they were far from hurt.  There was no way to kill the monsters, so the best Luna could do was delay them until help arrived.  As time passed, the trolls gained ground.  Not even Luna could fend off fifty nearly indestructible creatures forever.  Luckily for her, she didn’t have to.

Bursting out of the trees came a snarling, gnashing wave of forest creatures.  Bears, wolves, foxes, birds, otters, and other animals smashed through the front ranks of the trolls.  Each and every one of the critters was doused in milk.  

“The cavalry's here!” Ernest whooped.  The human pointed to a bear in the crowd of charging animals and yelled, “Go get em, Smokey!  Show those Ottomans whose boss.”

Rotnart watched the milk-covered bear rise up on his hind legs and wave at Ernest.  Absently, the wooden troll waved back.  He thought back to his conversation with Discord, when that freak had told him that Ernest had been eaten by a bear in the woods.  Things would have been a lot simpler for everybody if you had just fu*#ing done your job, thought Rotnart.

Luna continued to fight the trolls, shooting them out of the sky with pin-point accuracy where the hapless monsters were beset by animals of all sizes.  The trolls died in droves, but more than a few animals were either turned to dolls, injured, or laid out on the ground twitching or still as the grave.  Each and every one of these critters called Fluttershy a friend.  The Princess hated to call upon the aid that these forest dwellers had offered but knew that she could not refuse.  She had armed them with milk before this bloody meeting had taken place, and they had waited for her signal.  

“Princess!  Princess, what are your orders?” shouted Shining Armor.  

Luna blinked and tore her eyes from the struggle.  She looked down at the unicorn.  “The four of us shall return to Ponyville, and you shall see an apothecary for your horn.”  The alicorn looked back into the melee and saw the retreating form of Rabuf carrying his comatose Lieutenant over his shoulder.  One of the magically inclined trolls had snapped his fingers and opened a portal.  The magic user was dissolved a moment later when a wet blue bird slapped into his face.  Before Rabuf could step through the magical door, he felt something coalesce and form in his brain.  The troll stopped dead in his tracks, the forward momentum causing Hctorc Retib to fall into the portal.  The leader of the trolls slowly turned and looked directly at the Princess, horrified realization written all over his face.  A blue line of magic ran from his head to the alicorn’s horn.  The next thing he knew he was falling backwards into the portal, having lost all control of his body.  

“He got away,” Shining Armor said angrily.  

“Yes and no,” replied Luna.

“What do you mean?” asked the Prince.

“Let us just say that the Pony of Shadows had the last laugh with that troll.  Now come, let us be away from this place.”
> You're Worse than My Brother
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spitfire tucked herself behind tufts of cloud and glared down at the idle host of trolls.  Even from a mile high she could see the enormous army preparing itself for battle underneath the thick canopy of the Everfree Forest.  It would not be long until this host would begin to move.  She checked the skies above the horde.  Great squadrons of winged trolls patrolled the airspace of the army and were keeping a close eye on the ground searching the forest floor.  

The Wonderbolt smiled.  You didn’t bottle up all the pegasi in town, she thought.  Spitfire looked to the north and east, and there it was, a purplish stain on the horizon.  The Tree of Harmony.  The tree was so polluted with evil that its aura could be seen for miles in any direction.  Spitfire’s lip curled in distaste.  All this sneaking around in the clouds was wearing on her nerves.  All it would take is for one troll to fly up here and see them, and the game was up.  It hadn’t happened yet, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t.  She put her pair of binoculars back into her wingsuit and turned to the rest of her squad.  There were six Wonderbolts including herself, Zecora, and a chariot.  In the chariot were the zebra’s potions and a suitcase full of dolls.  The flier sighed.  She could have done without the vehicle, but it was the best way to carry a non-flying pony.  This mission would have been impossible without Zecora. 

Spitfire thought back to that meeting in Twilight Sparkle’s hospital room when the Princess had awoken to Ernest tearing paper.  She smiled at the thought; that was one way to wake up an egg-head.  She had thought the human crazy for going up there on the roof of the hospital.  She still thought it had been an insanely stupid stunt even by Wonderbolt standards, but the idea had worked even though the crazy alien had almost died.  Her hooves still ached from hammering on his chest for a full minute trying to bring him back to life.  She was pretty sure she had broken a couple of the human’s ribs, but Ernest didn’t seem to mind.  The human was made of tough stuff.  And when the Tantibus had been beaten, Ernest had approached her and thanked her for saving his life.  The creature had even given her a jar of authentic Bulgarian Miac . . . whatever that was.  She pitched the stuff after taking a whiff of it.  During the meeting she had listened to the plotting and planning that was above her pay grade.  When she had heard her marching orders, she had grimly accepted her task.  It sounded like they wanted her and her best flyers to go on a suicide mission.  There were simply too many trolls in the air surrounding the town to break out.  And even if she and her ponies could, the second the Wonderbolts moved toward the Tree of Harmony, the trolls would teleport back to their base.  That was when Zecora had told her about the wonder oil that bent light around whatever the stuff touched . . . or something like that.  The zebra was hard to follow in the best of times, but when she was trying to explain magic and science at once Spitfire just tuned her out.  The only hitch was she didn’t have that much of the stuff, just enough for a one-way trip.  “Good enough,” Spitfire had said.  

Afterwards herself, Zecora, and five other hoof-picked members of the Wonderbolts were dismissed to prepare for their mission.  Luna and the human alien went to rescue Shining Armor and had returned not only with the Prince but with a wooden troll.  That had created quite a stir with everypony, but if Luna vouched for the thing then who was she to judge?  Besides, she had her own fish to fry.  After Princess Luna had returned, the alicorn had sequestered herself with five dolls in one of the operating rooms of Ponyville hospital.  When she had emerged from her labors, she had called a final briefing of the Wonderbolts and Zecora.  At that meeting she presented the suitcase of the five element bearers to Spitfire.  She explained that the Elements of Harmony are the key.  If they could reverse the wood curse on the ponies who could use the Elements, then there was hope.  

Spitfire had shuddered when she saw the horrified and hateful expressions on the dolls of Rainbow Dash and the other bearers.  But there was something new.  The five dolls had two sets of midnight blue runes carved into the wood of each figurine.  Princess Luna had done that, cutting with painstaking detail and care.  Into each magic symbol she had poured her knowledge, purity, heart, and soul.  She explained to Spitfire and her team how to place the dolls into the Tree of Harmony.  She would need the tree’s power to begin her two-pronged spell.  Again a lot of the magical theory of what the Princess had explained went over her head, but she understood the basics.  Once in the tree, the first set of runes would activate, tap into the energy of the Tree of Harmony, convert and reverse the evil magic that bound the element bearers, and transform the five ponies back to the way they were.  Thunderlane had asked how long this process would take.  The answer the Princess gave was not reassuring.  She didn’t know.  But whenever the first set of runes did their job, the second set would be dormant but still visible on the bodies of the freed ponies.  Once the bearers were free, Spitfire or somepony on their team would speak a command word.  This word would activate the second set of runes and teleport the five ponies back to Ponyville.  Only then when all this was done would the mission be considered a success.                             

Spitfire blinked and her mind returned to the present.  She wordlessly checked up on her fliers; the ponies were reapplying the ointment to their suits and coats and were making sure that all the milk they stowed away in their saddles was still secure.  The invisibility oil smelled like rotten eggs, but so far it had worked as advertised.  Spitfire walked up to Zecora.  “We got a few more clouds to hop before we’re right on top of our objective.  Once we’re there, we’ll see how many trolls are left at the Tree of Harmony."

Zecora nodded.  The zebra had donned her green war-paint and ceremonial combat spear.  She looked up at the sun; it was almost noon.  “Soon the trolls will fully deploy.  Our mission is important and not a decoy.”

No sooner had Zecora spoken those words a great bellow went up from the troll army.  

Spitfire galloped over to the edge of the cloud and looked down.  The troll army had begun its march.              



*************************************************************************************



Iarumas could feel his blood boiling beneath his skin.  His body was screaming at having to contain the power of so much converted soul-energy.  He focused his mind, shut out the pain, and continued to run.  Three hours.  He had three hours until the power consumed him and returned to the Tree of Harmony where another of his chosen would take his place.  The massive troll’s senses were heightened to unbelievable levels.  Fighting through the haze of pain, he could see the wing beats of hummingbirds and taste the very air.  He knew what animals had passed through this stretch of forest hours ago.  As much 

as he was relishing his final painful minutes among the living, he would have preferred to teleport the army right into the heart of Ponyville.  That’s what Lord Rabuf would have done.  But he couldn’t. The ponies had erected a magical defense around the town that prevented his spell slingers from phasing into the village.  Iarumas grunted.  Sometimes the old-fashioned ways were the best anyway.    

He looked around at the legions of trolls that ran by his side through the forest.  This was not his army to lead, but lead it he would.  He was the chosen of Rabuf and would see his Lord’s orders fulfilled before his time ran out.  He had personally executed the pitiful excuses for troll flesh that had failed to protect their King with the milk stores below the ruined castle.  The last thing the survivors of the cottage massacre had seen was Rabuf carrying Hctorc Retib through a portal and then tumbling backwards as the door shut.  The now dead trolls had described it like Rabuf had fallen as though pole-axed by an invisible assailant.  Iarumas did not like the sound of that.  He also did not like the fact that Rotnart had unequivocally betrayed them.  

So lost in thought, Iarumas had barreled through a four hundred year-old oak tree like it wasn’t there.  The tree combusted and blew away in the wind in the span it took for the troll to draw breath.  His beserk army cheered at the sight of mindless destruction.  He ignored them and continued to run.  On more than one occasion packs of wild animals and colossal beasts that inhabited lagoons or glades rose to attack the trolls.  Every single one of them had backed down and retreated.  A primal instinct of self-preservation forbade the creatures to attack the supernatural juggernaut that led the trolls.  Iarumas ignored them too.  Vengeance.  That’s what he wanted.  Vengeance on the traitor and vengeance on the ponies who had banished his king.  He would turn that pathetic excuse for a hovel into his funeral pyre.  He would light a fire in that town that would burn for all eternity.             



*************************************************************************************



“It’s not enough.”

“What does thou mean?” asked Princess Luna.  

Rotnart’s gesture encompassed everything outside the shattered windows of Sugarcube Corner.  “This is not enough.”  The amulet beneath the wooden troll’s massive chin buzzed with energy.  The magic housed in the trinket bridged his vocal chords and helped to make his voice quiver in annoyance.  “Remind me.  How many horses are here in this town?”

“Ponies,” corrected Twilight Sparkle.  “And there’s 941 of us; that includes you and Ernest.”    

The wooden troll winced.  Never in all his days had he ever expected to be numbered with his victims.  This was like a lion being forced to fight alongside a warren of bunny rabbits.  Rotnart glanced across the large party-table at Ernest.  “Bunny rabbits and a lion hunter,” he mumbled.

“What did thou say?” asked Luna.  

“Nothing.”  Rotnart pointed at Twilight.  “You’re good with numbers.  I have a math problem for you.  My dad back in Missouri took five kids and turned them into dolls and put them in a tree.  The tree made 100 trolls from those five dolls.  My brother made off with about 200 kids and assuming the tree cranks out 100 trolls per five dolls, how many trolls are coming here right this second?”

Before Twilight could answer the troll’s math question, Ernest blurted out, “You’re telling me there’s half a million trolls out there?”  

Rotnart groaned and rubbed his eyes in exasperation.  “You’re worse than my brother.”  The troll paused.  “But you might have a point.  This is no ordinary tree Rabuf is using.  He might be getting a lot more trolls per doll than my dad ever did.”

“Do any of you need refills?”  Mrs. Cake appeared balancing a picture of water on her head.  

“I’ll have another glass of milk,” declared Rotnart.  “Since the stuff can no longer turn me into a pile of $*%t, I kind of like the taste.”

Ernest covered Sunset Shimmer’s ears just in time before the troll got off his swear word.  “Hey, watch your mouth.  There are ladies present.”  

Rotnart felt the cord that held the amulet around his neck snap.  The magic jewelry was floating just out of his reach, engulfed in a blue aura.  He looked over at Princess Luna. 

“Thou shalt use thy voice more eloquently from now on or thou shalt lose that privilege permanently.  Am I clear?”

Rotnart rolled his eyes and nodded.  There was no doubt in his mind the alicorn could make good on her threat.  She was powering a very large percentage of the shield surrounding the town, and it did not seem to be draining her in the least.  Nope, he did not want to get on her bad side.  After Luna gave back the amulet into Rotnart’s wooden hands, a tall plastic glass was slammed down on the table in front of the troll’s large face.  

“I hope you choke on this, troll,” Mrs. Cake hissed.

The pony stormed back into the kitchen without another word.

Rotnart sighed and retied the trinket around his neck.  “Yeah, yeah, let me guess.  Her kids got snatched up by my brother.  I’m trying to help with that.”

“How?” asked Spike.  The little dragon shoved a ruby into his mouth angrily.  “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.” 

The troll shrugged.  “True, I started this war, but maybe I can help you win the peace.”

“What does thou mean?” asked Luna.  

“If I make it out of this alive, I’ll try and convince the other trolls to return home to the Old World.” 

Ernest was about to say something, but Rotnart cut him off.  “And before you say ‘why not just kill them all’ and let whatever god you believe in sort us out, I got news for you.  That won’t work.”

The human closed his mouth and whispered to Twilight.  “I didn’t know trolls could read minds too.  I need to write this down.”

The Princess thought about telling Ernest that she did not believe Rotnart was a telepath but decided against it.  Instead she thought it would be easier on everypony to just levitate some paper and some crayons from a nearby foal’s table so Ernest could take notes.

Spike smiled wickedly. “That seems like a good idea to me.  Why won’t it work?”

Sunset Shimmer thought about Spike’s question for a moment.  “Because there’s too many trolls.  If even one gets away, they can start this nightmare again in some other village.”   

 Rotnart looked at the orange pony and tapped his nose.  “All it takes is one.  My brother may have been insane, but he was not dumb.  I’d be willing to wager my wooden teeth that he has dozens of trolls under hibernation spells buried throughout the forest.  No doubt they have orders to pop out of the ground months or years from now.”  The wooden troll took a pull from his cup to hide his face.  He had no idea if what he’d just said was true or not, but for what he had planned, he would need to make himself useful to the ponies.    

The table went quiet when hearing that bit of news.  The silence was broken moments later when a loud bang was heard from the center of town.  Only a couple of heads turned to look in that direction having grown accustomed to the noise of the CMC experiment being conducted at City Hall.

Shining Armor looked at Ernest and asked, “So what are you and those kids building out there, Ernest?”

Ernest looked up from his writing.  “A railgun,” he said proudly.  “The Crusaders are calling it ‘Willie's Revenge’ since we’re still using a lot of Willie’s old body.  Those bangs you're hearing are metal balls breaking the sound barrier.” 

“Is anypony watching them?” asked the Prince.  “That sounds kind of dangerous.”  

“Oh yeah, Rimshot is supervising the youngons while I’m over here,” replied the human.           

Before Shining Armor could say anything about a dog overseeing the construction of a railgun by a bunch of kids, Princess Luna replied to what Rotnart had said, lost in her own thoughts.  “Tis not unheard of.  The Crystal Heart wars were a series of conflicts that lasted for years.  Everytime we thought we conquered Sombra and his troll allies, they would return in greater numbers later.  I fear that the trolls may have been preying on the yak children and other young creatures in the frozen north to build back their strength.  It wasn’t until Equestrian forces retreated and the trolls attacked the Crystal Empire with their full might that we were able to defeat Sombra decisively.  We may have lost the city, but because there were no more trolls, we eventually defeated Sombra,” Luna stated grimly.    

Rotnart nodded, “Nobody wants to go back to those days.  And If you had a king among the trolls who is willing to live in peace with you ponies and will keep the rest of his people in line, then that would go a long way towards stopping another few generations of warfare.”

Twilight Sparkle lifted an eyebrow.  “And I’m assuming you’d be this king?”

The wooden golem smiled.  “Well . . . if you insist.  I’d be willing to take time out of my busy schedule.”  Rotnart’s smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. “But all this fine talk of peace and me being a king again won’t amount to much if we’re all dead or dolls.”

Shining Armor winced in pain.  He had just touched his crystal-encrusted horn and jerked his hoof back.  “Don’t count us out yet.  We’ve fended off the trolls for this long.  Everypony is in position and as ready as we can make them.  Our side is armed with all the milk this town has.  All we have to do is wait until the attack starts and hold out until the rest of the Element Bearers get here.” 

Rotnart shook his head.  “You don’t get it.  The real problem is not the thousands of killer trolls coming to stomp this town into the ground.  It’s their champion.  There is a juggernaut coming that is more demon than troll.  His name is Iarumas, and he scares the tree sap out of me.  Rabuf had begun the process of changing him just before we went to Zecora’s hut.  Milk won’t do crap to this thing.  Only unconditional love will kill this beast.  Oh, and by the way, if we don’t kill Iarumas in the next few hours, he will explode, which will unleash all that evil nasty spirit energy.”

Luna frowned.  “I never encountered a being like this while fighting the trolls a thousand years ago.”

“That’s because King Sombra wanted to rule a kingdom, not a wasteland.”  Seeing a crude children's map of Equestria tacked to a corkboard, Rotnart stood up and waddled unsteadily towards it.  He picked up a crayon Ernest wasn’t using and drew a red circle around Ponyville.  “This circle is 5 miles across.  If Iarumas blows up in Ponyville, then everything in the circle dies.  Humans, ponies, trees, grass--all get turned to dust . . . except for trolls.  Trolls are immune to this dirty kamikaze bull crap Sombra programmed into us.  All that energy doesn’t go away either.  It collects back at the tree after a few minutes and another troll gets the honor of violently exploding.”

After hearing this Twilight Sparkle took a couple of blank sheets of paper from Ernest’s pile, grabbed her own crayon with her magic, and started to write furiously.  

Ernest looked up from his notes and turned his attention to Rotnart.  “So how do we fix the Tree of Harmonicas?” 

Rotnart paused.  “What?”

“How do we fix the Tree of Harmonicas?” Ernest repeated.

“Tree of Harmony,” everyone at the table provided. 

“Yeah, that,” Ernest nodded.  “I mean, that tree you came out of back in Missouri was still gnarly and ugly as sin.  How do we fix that other tree that has brussel sprouts growing off of it?”

The wooden troll stared at Ernest.  “That’s not my department.”

“Fear not, Ernest.  I am sure we can restore the Tree of Harmony when this is over,” declared Luna.

Sunset Shimmer pointed at the map.  “What about . . .”

The orange pony never got to finish her question.  An ear-splitting alarm pierced the air in every direction.    

Ernest looked at the clock mounted on the wall of the bakery.  “Well, that’s not the noon balloon.”

Princess Luna could feel the trolls trying to break the barrier.  She could sense the trolls strike the force field surrounding the town with their primitive weapons and brutish magic.   The alicorn turned to Ernest and asked, “Is your weapon combat worthy?” 

In response to the question, Ernest picked up a nearby walkie-talkie and in his trucker voice said, “Fort Botswanna this is Troll Fighter One.  Is Willie’s Revenge good to go?  We’re about to kick the tires and light the fires.  Come on back to me.”

Moments later a reply came back.  The voice sounded like Scootaloo.  “Troll Fighter One, this is Fort Botswanna.  Willie’s Revenge is combat ready.  I repeat, Willie’s Revenge is combat ready.”

“Excellent,” replied Luna.  “Sunset Shimmer, Rotnart, you two will go with Ernest back to City Hall and protect the weapon and its crew.  Princess Twilight, Prince Shining Armor, and Spike shall accompany me back to the hospital.  We shall coordinate the defense of Ponyville from there.”              



************************************************************************************




Meanwhile above the Tree of Harmony



Spitfire’s heart leapt into her throat.  She turned her head to the west and listened.  The alarm she heard off in the distance was faint, but its meaning left little doubt.  The trolls had begun the assault on Ponyville.  The pegasus donned her goggles and trotted up to a high spot on the cloud she and her team were occupying.  

“That’s our cue, Wonderbolts.”  The pegasus leader swallowed and fought down the apprehension she was feeling.  “Now one more time.  Thunderlane, take Sliver Zoom and secure the Tree of Harmony.  According to our reconnaissance, the tree should be lightly defended on the surface . . . unless they’re all hiding underground.  Let’s hope that’s not the case.  You two will wait here for thirty seconds before disembarking.” 

Spitfire turned to the other part of her team.  “Misty Fly, Fire Streak, Blaze, you’re with me.  We’re going to jump first and be the diversion on this milk run.  There’s a ton of flying trolls down there guarding the airspace.  We’ll draw off any air-borne trolls so they don’t interfere with Thunderlane.  Any questions?”  When there were none, the Wonderbolt leader continued, “You all know what you have to do, so let’s get down there and save Equestria.”

The Wonderbolts nodded and made ready their squirt guns and milk cartons.  Spitfire turned to Zecora and said, “We’ll be back.”

The zebra smirked and said, “Do not fear, I’ll still be here.”

Without another word Spitfire joined her group.  The leader of the Wonderbolts waved her hoof forward, and as one, the four pegasi dove off the stratus cloud.  The ponies didn’t meet any resistance until they were 1000 feet above the ground.  There they encountered the trolls' aerial picket line.  The four flying guards they encountered had no clue what was about to happen to them.  The bat-winged trolls had enough time to see four blue blurs pass them by before their bodies dissolved and rained down on the trees below.  The hole the Equestrians had punched into the troll’s defenses did not go unnoticed.  Yelling like banshees, a dozen trolls gave chase to the elite flying ponies.  The Wonderbolts ignored them and continued their descent.  The ponies liquefied another six bat-winged trolls before they had to pull up and skirt the forest floor.  As a unit, the pegasi climbed above the trees, turned, and engaged their pursuers.  The years of training the Wonderbolts put in to become the greatest flyers in Equestria was put on full display.  The pegasi weaved and glided around the gangly bat-like trolls with ease scoring kills at will.  Spitfire grinned. At that moment she was never more proud of her ponies.  She saw Blaze fly between two trolls.  The creatures fired their crossbows at almost the same time.  One took a bolt in the wing while the other took a projectile in the face.  Both trolls tumbled to the ground.

After dispatching three trolls at once with her super soaker, the Wonder Bolt leader saw Misty Flight hurl a carton of milk straight down a hundred feet at a troll that was taking aim at Blaze.  The milk fell and exploded all over the sniping troll.  But all was not going the Wonderbolt’s way.  The fight in the sky was attracting even more bat-winged trolls from every direction.  The ponies were now fighting as individuals rather than an elite unit.  Spitfire rolled and banked successfully dodging the bolts and arrows sent her way.  However, she didn’t see the troll closing in above her.  The monster stomped down hard on the base of Spitfire’s right wing, nearly breaking it.  The pony gasped in shock and pain.  Moments later she felt the warm dripping remnants of a troll rain down on her.  She hoped it was the one that attacked her.   Wincing in agony she dropped in altitude, having just enough control to land roughly in the trees below.   She paused for a moment in the branches to rattle her weapon.  Her Super Soaker was empty.  Cursing she took a carton of milk from her saddle bag and started the painfully slow process of reloading.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of her flyers hit the forest floor hard.  It was Fire Streak.  The pegasus’s wings were roped together by a bola.  The pony’s body tumbled end over end before coming to rest in an open clearing.  The space was instantly filled with pouncing trolls.  Drawing two milk cartons from his saddle the pegasus melted two trolls before a third creature placed a gnarled claw around the pony’s throat.  The elite Wonderbolt turned to a doll in the blink of an eye.         

Without thinking Spitfire howled and sprang forward out of her perch, her hurt wing screaming in protest.  The enraged pegasus hosed down five trolls and scooped up the remains of Fire Streak before the doll hit the ground.  The Pegasus nearly dropped the figurine; her wounded wing was not functioning at all like it should.   

“That looks bad, Chief,” the newcomer sniffed.  “And it smells worse.  Your wing’s bent at a weird angle.”

Spitfire looked to her side to see Misty Fly had flown up to her three o’clock position. 

“I’ll live,” replied the Wonderbolt leader.  Her entire wing felt like it was on fire, but if she could fly that was good enough.  

“Anything to report?” asked the Wonderbolt leader.

The junior flier picked up a steaming piece of near-liquid troll from her leader’s back and dropped it.  “All flying troll resistance has been neutralized.  Blaze has two broken hooves and a concussion where a troll rammed him in midair.  Zecora is seeing to him back at cloud base.  Fire Streak is miss--- . . .” At this point Misty Flight noticed the doll in Spitfire’s hooves.  She winced and looked away.

“Let’s rendezvous with Thunderlane,” Spitfire ordered.

The other pegasus nodded. 

The two flyers slowly made their way to the Tree of Harmony.  Even from this distance Spitfire felt nauseous just looking at the Tree’s evil aura.  The Wonderbolts glided down the stone staircase.  Here and there Spitfire saw evidence of slain trolls.  She saw Thunderlane just outside the wide cave entrance that led to their objective.  The other pony had a frantic look about him.  His right eye had a bandage over it, and his left hoof was pinned to his chest with a sling.  His mane was matted to his neck with troll gunk. 

“Spitfire, ma’am,” Thunderlane eyed his leader’s wound and troll spattered uniform.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.  Where’s Sliver Zoom?”

A familiar weak voice echoed from the bowels of the cave.  “Help me.  I–I can’t see.”  The voice began to panic.  “I can’t see!  My wings are broken!  I can’t move!”    

Thunderlane grimaced and nodded towards the cave.  “The trolls have him.  We secured the ground outside the cave when half a dozen trolls stormed out of the cave.  Those bucking troll wizards used their magic to ground Silver.  I . . . I got a lot of them.  I tried to rescue him, ma’am.  I really tried.  But they have this really big troll in there that’s stronger than Big Mac.  He was covered in that bucking bark armor.  I dove right at him and tried to aim for his face.  But that Bucker swatted me halfway across the forest.”  Realizing that he had been swearing a lot in front of a superior officer, he coughed and added,  “Begging your pardon, ma’am.”

Spitfire waved off the apology.  “Can you still fight?”

Thunderland puffed himself.  “Yes ma’am.”

“Help me!” wailed Silver.

Misty Fly eyed the cave entrance with trepidation.  “This has got to be a trap.  The trolls can manipulate their voices to sound like damn near anypony.”

“I know,” muttered Spitfire.  “We still gotta go in there.”  The leader of the Wonderbolts thought for a moment.  “Okay.  Thunderlane, Misty Fly, you two fly back up to the cloud and bring Zecora and Blaze down here.  Let’s see if she has anything in her bag of potions that might help us smoke out these trolls.”

Wordlessly the two pegasi took off.  Spitfire paced nervously in front of the cave entrance trying to ignore the mewling pleas of her captured flier.  Five minutes later a crowded chariot pulled by two Wonderbolts landed in the clearing in front of the cave.  

Spitfire trotted over to the chariot and got a good look at Blaze.  The hurt flier’s head and torso was covered in a sticky yellow substance that was preventing him from moving.  The pony was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.      

Zecora dismounted the chariot and stood by Spitfire’s side.  “Do not worry about your friend.  With my heal and hold honey, he will be on the mend.”

The Wonderbolt nodded.  “Thanks for looking out for him.  But we got another problem.  The trolls are hold up in the cave, and they have Silver Zoom.  Do you have any magic potions or ointments that will make taking back the Tree of Harmony any easier?”

Zecora thought for a moment before replying, “I think I might have what you desire.  Lend me your milk, that is all I require.”

Spitfire gave the zebra a strange look.  “I’m not asking you to go in there by yourself.”

Zecora nodded.  “You and yours have done much, that I can see.  It is now my turn, leave this to me.”        



************************************************************************************



“Can anypony hear me out there?”  The troll mimicking their prisoner’s voice nearly broke character by stifling a laugh.  This was too easy.  Soon those idiot ponies out there would come storming through the cave right into the trap he and his kin had set.  The small troll risked a glance over the rock he was hiding behind.  It looked like the other flyers had returned with some kind of sky wagon and a black and white striped ground horse.  The ground horse was taking milk cartons from the flyers and setting them aside in the sky wagon.  The troll raised a bushy eyebrow.  Was this insane ground horse going to assault the base by itself?  The troll smiled.  Another hostage couldn’t hurt.  But then the ground horse was doing something strange.  She was mixing the milk with some other vials of liquid.  The troll couldn’t put his filth-encrusted finger on it, but something was very wrong here.  Something about that brew the horse was making made his eyes twitch.  The troll slumped behind the boulder he was hiding behind and grabbed a small stone.  The troll spoke into the small pebble.  

“This is Drut.  Problem at the cave mouth.  Attack incoming.  I say again, attack incoming.”  

The pebble glowed a dull orange as it was filled with the troll’s magic message.  Drut hurled the rock deeper into the cave and returned his attention back to the ponies.  The three pegasi that could still cause a problem were huddled together.  The one with the orange and yellow mane was gesturing at the sky and then pointing at the cave. 

“What’s going on?”

Drut almost wet himself in surprise.  He looked to his side and was met by a massive troll in bark armor.  Drut pointed to the black and white ground horse.  “That horse thing is mixing something together.”

The other troll squinted out into the daylight.  “That’s probably a cook for the other three.”

Drut shook his head.  “No, I think she’s making a weapon.  She has most of the milk from those flyers, and she’s mixing it together with other stuff.”

The larger troll reached under his armor to scratch at his armpit.  “Maybe.  But she ain’t gonna get me to drink it.  Go out there and stop her.”

Drut blinked and looked up at the other troll.  “You want me to go out there?”

“Did.  I.  Stutter?” asked the other troll with deliberate slowness.

“No . . . but . . . ah come on, Tihs.  Why do I gotta be the one to go out there?   Why don’t we send Kcoc? He’s not doing anything.”

Tihs grunted.  “Kcoc’s watching the prisoner.”

“The prisoner is a F*#k sucking doll.  It’s not going anywhere,” moaned Drut.  

Tihs glared at the smaller troll.  “You got magic, right?”

Drut nodded and whimpered.

“Then all you gotta do is teleport over there, doll their cook, and teleport back.  And if you don’t get moving in the next five seconds, I’m going to use my muscle to throw your scrawny ass out there.  Do you get me?”

Drut swallowed.  “I get ya, boss.”  The smaller troll took a couple deep breaths.  “I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.  Okay.  On the count of three.  One . . .”

A large glass vial exploded above the heads of the two trolls.  Before either creature could do anything about it they were enveloped in an expanding white fog of airborne milk.  Misty Fly and Thunderlane used their considerable wing strength to push the cloud further into the cave.

Spitfire nodded approvingly.  “NIce throw.”

Zecora hefted the suitcase that held the dolls of five of the six element bearers.  “Thank you.  Now let us bring back our friends.  And bring this cursed nightmare to an end.” 
> Trollmegedon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Earlier


The alarm klaxons howled and shrieked.  The ponies outside Sugarcube Corner dove into trenches and entered the ruins of homes.  They were armed with as many dairy products as Twilight Sparkle’s strict rationing would allow.  The Equestrian leadership scattered, moving as fast as they could to their command centers throughout the town.  Ernest ran through the streets with a pink and whilte bullhorn he had found in the bakery.  The Redneck zig zagged along the road to city hall yelling, “Troll alert!  Troll alert!  This is not a drill!  Trolls have been sighted outside the perimeter!  All hands on deck,  batten down the hatches, and prepare for a trollicane!”

Trailing behind the eccentric human was Sunset Shimmer.  She was about to gallop after the Troll Fighter when she heard a loud “thud” from behind her.  She turned to see the wooden troll had face planted into the dirt just outside the doorway to Sugarcube Corner.  Other ponies were galloping around the fallen troll but none was helping him to his feet.  The orange pony trotted up to the turtling Rotnart.  “Here, let me help you.”

Before Rotnart could tell the pony where to stuff her help, he felt himself being enveloped by turquoise magic and lifted.  The sensation was odd.  He did not like being manhandled, but at the same time the pony had saved him at least five minutes of flopping around on the ground.  “Thanks,” he muttered.

The cacophony of sound coming from the sirens died down enough for Rotnart to ask, “Where is this Fort Botswana thing Worrell was talking about?”

Sunset pointed North to City Hall.  

Rotnart sighed.  “That’s just lovely.  This is going to be the Battle of Briarville all over again.  Worrell and the kids have the high ground while every troll in horse land will be swarming this way trying to get at him.” 

Sunset watched the slow awkward progress of the troll as he made his way up the road.  “I could teleport us there if you like.”

The troll shook his head.  “Have you ever seen a wooden troll barf?”

Sunset shivered.  “Walking it is.”  After a moment she added, “And you’re wrong.  Not every troll is coming to get us.  One is trying to help.”

Rotnart gave the Equestrian a sidelong glance and snorted.  “Careful, horse.  How do you know I’m on your side?  I did doll six of your friends after all.”      

“Five,” Sunset corrected.  “You turned Princess Luna back at the expense of your own body.  From what I’ve heard you could have let three foals be captured and turned to dolls, but you didn’t.  You had an opportunity to kill Ernest in front of Luna and your brother, but you didn’t.”

Rotnart rolled his eyes but didn’t reply.  After following the dirt path and Ernest’s shrieking voice, the pony and troll passed a group of Crystal Empire Royal Guards.  The guard ponies were layering their weapons in powdered and liquid milk.  The soldiers glared at the pair as they passed.  One of the guards murmured, “Keep an eye on those two.  I still don’t trust them.”  

Sunset’s ears twitched when she heard the hushed words.  She sighed.  She couldn’t blame the soldiers for their paranoia.  After all she did steal a piece of the Elements of Harmony, part of the most potent defense system Equestria had.  It would take a while before a sin like that could be completely forgiven.         

From beside her Rotnart turned and replied loudly, “Oh yeah, you big bad elite Clydesdales had better keep an eye on us.  You gotta watch the dude that can’t even stand up on his own and his teenage babysitter.”  Rotnart shook his head and muttered, “Those morons are about to die, and they’re worried about us.” 

Sunset’s heart sank.  “You don’t think we’re going to make it, do you?”

Rotnart shrugged and nodded towards Ernest.  The human was standing in front of city hall calling up to a squad of pegasi with his bullhorn.  “It doesn’t matter what I think.  But as long as that man is still breathing, we got a shot.”

The orange pony nodded. Sunset and Rotnart advanced until they were standing right behind the shrieking Troll Fighter.

“Trolls!  The trolls are co---.”  

An aquamarine aura enveloped the bullhorn and was lifted from Ernent’s hands.  “Yeah, Ernest, the sirens made it pretty clear that the trolls are here,” Sunset Shimmer said from behind him.  

Ernest turned to see his pony and troll guardians looking up at the heavily modified city hall.  “I just want to be sure everyone knows that trollmegedon is here.  Some people react better if they get bad news from a friendly source, you know what I mean?”  

“What is that thing?” asked Rotnart pointing upwards.

Ernest followed the troll’s finger to the third story balcony of the government building to see five small ponies servicing a strange-looking device. Two long I-beams of enchanted copper were jutting from a housing that was equal parts steel, aluminum, and plastic.  The hastily constructed weapon was mounted on the balcony’s metal reinforced banister and could traverse the circumference of the railing on rollers.  

“Oh, that’s the railgun I was talking about earlier.”  With no small amount of pride, Ernest added, “With this baby we can reach out and touch any troll that’s in front of us.”

Sunset nodded along in thought.  “How accurate is it?”

Ernest winced.  “Last time I checked we were almost able to hit the target berm.”

Before Rotnart or Sunset could ask anymore questions, Ernest called up to the young ponies,  “Permission to enter Fort Botswana with two guests.  Password is ‘CMC6BFF.’   

Sweetie Belle appeared a moment later at the balcony.  “Granted.  Hurry up, Ernest.”

The human saluted and threw open the doors.    

Sunset’s eyes widened at the devastation that had befallen City Hall.  It had been years since she had last been here.  She remembered it not only as the beating heart of Ponyville Government, but as a place to have fun.  A lot of venues had rented out the building for parties.  The pony stepped into the thoroughly ransacked first floor of city hall.  She watched the human’s climbing form quickly ascending the wide spiraling staircase.

“Well, $h!t.  Is that the only way to get up to the top?  There’s not an elevator or something?” asked Rotnart. 

Sunset shook her head.  “I don’t think so.” 

The wooden troll sighed.  “Alright, do the thing.  We ain’t got all day to wait on my splintery ass to get to the top.”

The pony turned to face him reluctantly.  Before casting her teleportation spell, she said, “Sorry.”

Ernest took the steps two at a time.   When he reached the top, he saw Sweetie Belle, Diamond Tiara, and Apple Bloom slathering ball bearings with a mixture of milk and yellow paint.  The three ponies were distracted from their work when Rotnart and Sunset Shimmer materialized.  They were even more distracted when the wooden troll began to violently heave his guts out over the balcony.

Ernest tore his attention away from the barfing tree-troll and looked towards the pile of ammo the crusaders had stockpiled.  Judging by the growing pile of ammunition, there were several hundred metal balls ready for use.  The human frowned; he had been hoping for a lot more.         

Raising his voice over that of the retching troll, the Troll Fighter asked, “Alright, team.  What’d we got?” 

Scootaloo and Pipsqueak looked up from their tinkering.  The pair were adjusting the front and rear sights of the powered down railgun.  “Well, we still can’t hit anything,” replied the orange pegasus.  “But, the gun still fires reliably.  I’m just glad that the mayor is letting us borrow the town’s spare spark battery.” 

Pipsqueak laughed.  “Yeah, it wouldn't be much of a bloody weapon if we couldn’t hurl metal balls at unsafe velocities, would it?” 

Ernest smiled.  “Took the words right out of my mouth, Pip.”  

Snatching a pair of binoculars off a nearby table, Ernest looked at a very thick earthen berm about 1000 yards away, just in front of Luna’s barrier.  The berm stood twenty feet high and forty feet wide.  The area where the young ponies were practicing their aim was cordoned off with yellow caution tape.  The Redneck could see several deep divots in the ground before the berm where the Crusaders had been trying to hit mock troll targets in front of the earthen mound.  Ernest grimaced, there were too many fake trolls still standing.  Beyond the berm Ernest could see the troll magic users hurling spells at the great shield.  Monsters garbed in bark and metal were using trunks of massive trees to try and bash their way into the town.  Ernest’s jaw dropped in terror.  There were thousands of trolls out there.         

“Doesn’t look good, does it?” asked Apple Bloom.  The young pony was looking at the situation with her own pair of binoculars.

Ernest put down his field glasses and switched to his Roman personality.  He scoffed and said, “Those ruffians are but dust in the wind.  A thousand years ago when Botswana was facing the wrath of Sultan Klepto and his rampaging hordes of Ottoman robots, the odds were less than ideal there too.  The Ottomans numbered in the millions and each mechanical warrior had eight limbs and stood thirty hands tall.  So you know what the Botswana soldiers did?” 

The little earth pony shook her head.

“They built tree forts in the sturdy redwoods of Washington and Oregon and they used their ancestral rail guns to bring down the Ottomans favored form of locomotion, the Black Hawk helicopter.  And after many moons of fighting, the Ottomans brought forth their champion, the T-1800 Titanium Titan.”

Ernest’s story had caught the attention of the other five ponies.   They gathered round to listen to the Troll Fighter’s tale.  Even Rimshot was listening with rapt attention. 

Having recovered from his motion sickness, Rotnart leaned over to Sunset Shimmer and whispered, “Worrell has to be part troll. Only a troll can come up with a mountain of bull*#$t that large.”

“Shhhh,” hissed the orange pony.  

“The Botswanan’s were proud and brave, but they couldn’t hold on forever.  But before the Botswanans surrendered, King Arnonld of tribe Schwarzenegger challenged the T-1800 to single combat.”

“So what happened?  Did King Arnold win?  Did he beat the T-1800?” asked Pipsqueak.  

 Ernest smiled. “It wasn’t easy.  Arnonld had a lot of friends backing him up, preparing him for the fight of his life.  But yes, the Titanium Titan was bested when Arnonld covered his fists in skim milk and pulled out the robot’s still beating heart. After that the Ottomans ran back to their homes with their metal tails between their legs.” 

Sweetie Belle gave Ernest an appraising stare.  “Did all of this really happen, or is this just a story?”

Ernest shifted his weight from foot to foot.  “Well . . . I might have embellished some of the details, but the point is warfare is not something you can do alone; it’s a team effort.  Now you five are the bravest, smartest, and frankly the stubbornest team of ponies I know.  When those trolls step foot into town, they won’t know what hit them.”

The five little foals grinned and hoof-bumped each other.  Even Diamond Tiara was swept up in the moment and let out a loud “Yeah!” that Bulk Biceps would have been proud of.   Realizing what she just said, her cheeks reddened, and the filly found something very interesting to look at on the floor.  

The Troll Fighter clapped his hands together and said, “Alright, gang.  Let’s get back to work.  We’re going to plan B, and we’re going to need a lot more ammo.” 

Scootaloo sighed.  “I’ll see what we can do.  Common, Pip.  Let’s check the hardware store one more time; maybe we missed something.”

Pipsqueak saluted.  “Alright, Governor.” 

The two young ponies made their way down the stairs when Ernest turned to Sunset Shimmer and said, “Hey, Sunny.  If you don’t mind, I’ll be needing Willy back.”

The orange pony blinked in confusion before realizing what the Redneck meant.  Her eyes lit up with realization.  “Oh.  Sure, Ernest.”  Sunset closed her eyes and concentrated, and moments later with a puff of turquoise magic, the black cube that contained Willy’s entire being materialized, floating in Sunset’s aura.  The cube dropped in Ernest’s hands.  

“Thanks again for taking care of him,” Ernest said gratefully.  The human walked over to one of the access ports on the side of the railgun and inserted the cube into a square socket.  After that Ernest went over to a nearby desk that sported a broken keyboard and a cracked monitor that had once been Willy’s head.  Before sitting down Ernest pushed a large red button and activated Willie’s Revenge.  The great weapon sparked and coughed but slowly came to life with an intensifying hum of power.  The monitor came to life showing Willie’s “Have a Nice Day” Face.  The Troll Fighter pushed the alt tab buttons on the keyboard a few times and entered a command prompt.  From there the human’s fingers took off, typing at an insane rate.  Sunset wiped her eyes as she tried to make sense of what her friend was inputting.  She couldn’t and frankly doubted she’d understand if Ernest tried to explain it to her.  So instead she decided to keep her mouth shut.   

For his part Rotnart didn’t have a clue what was going on.  He just sat down as gingerly as he could between Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom and helped load metal balls into a plastic box.    

“Howed the meeting go?” asked Sweetie Belle.

Rotnart scoffed.  He was about to say something about how they were all probably going to die and that no one knew what they were doing.  But a look from Sunset Shimmer made him bite his tongue.  “Oh, it’s just a bunch of adults who think they know everything, arguing about what to do.  You didn’t miss anything.”  The wooden troll poured the milk-paint mixture into the plastic box and made sure all the balls were thoroughly covered. 

“Anything we should know about?” asked Applebloom.

Rotnart looked at the yellow earthpony.  “I can’t tell you.  I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“Ah, you can tell us.  We won’t tell anypony,” declared Sweetie Belle in a pleading voice.

The wooden troll thought for a few moments before saying, “Well, okay.  All we gotta do is hold back those trolls outside the forcefield for . . . a while, and then the Element Bearers will come back and make everything right again.  That’s the quick and dirty version.”

The two little filly’s looked at each other and simultaneously started screeching with joy.  

Rotnart covered his ears.  “Oh for Fu– Pete’s Sake.  Make it stop.” 

“Our sisters are coming back!  Our sisters are coming back!” The two fillies hopped up and down and hugged each other.  

And that's when it dawned on Rotnart.  Taking his hands away from his wooden ears, he said, “Wait a minute.  Those ponies I turned into dolls on Nightmare Night, the Element Bearers, those were your sisters?”

After a brief exclamation on whose sister was whose from the two fillies, Rotnart scratched the back of his head nervously.  “Uh . . . yeah, sorry about that.   I don’t know what else to say.”

Sunset Shimmer stopped breathing as she waited on how the two fillies would react.

“Awkward,” said Diamond Tiara, drawing out the word while she ran a brush over some unpainted balls.

Apple Bloom shook her head.  “What’s done is done.  We’re getting them back.  We’re getting them all back, that’s the important thing.  As long as you stay on this side of the fence with us, from now on I can forgive you.  At least that’s how I feel about things.” 

Sweetie Belle nodded.

Still at a loss for words, the wooden troll finally replied, “It’s a deal.”

After breathing an audible sigh of relief Sunset Shimmer heard Ernest ask, “Hey guys, want to say high to Willie?”

“To who?  Wait, isn’t he dead?” asked Rotnart.

“Naw, he was just in sleep mode,” Ernest replied.  

The group of three fillies, one beagle, one troll, and Sunset Shimmer gathered behind the seated human.  Sunset saw on the cracked monitor screen lines and lines of gibberish coding that ran a third of the way down the monitor.  After that mess, she saw something she recognized.  Ernest was chatting with his creation.

Ernest:  Willie, are you there?  This is Troll Fighter One.
Willie:  Da?  Da!  You came.  I knew you would! Where am I?  I feel weird.  I can’t see.

Ernest:  Oops.  I’m sorry, Willie.  One second and I’ll fix that for you.  
Ernest:  ://Camera00_on.
Ernest:  ://Camera01_on.
Ernest:  ://Camera02_on.
Ernest:  ://Camera03_on.

After Ernest typed those commands, the Redneck looked up at the flagpoles that were mounted to the sides of the building.  Sunset and the others followed his gaze and saw four cameras zip-tied to four different wooden poles.  The orange pony recognized those cameras from the Ponyville hospital.  There was one camera covering each cardinal direction that slowly moved side to side.  The fillies waved up at the cameras enthusiastically.  

Ernest:  Can you see us?

The Easternmost camera pointed down.  

Willie:  Yes.  I have so many questions.  One of them is why is there a bloody troll standing right		next to you?  Did we lose?  Wait, I recognize him.  Is that you, Rotnart?  You look different when 		you’re not pinned to a table like a bug.  HA HA HA HA.  Oh, hi Sunset, you’re different too.  How’d		 the play go?  Hi Rimshot.  Hi kids.    

The troll glared up at the camera while Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom tried to hide their giggling.  “You know I can read English, right?”

“I got this,” declared Ernest.

Ernest:  No, we haven't lost.  Rotnart is on our side. It's a long story.   Sunny was amazing by the way.  We need your help Willie.  The town is surrounded by trolls.

The southernmost camera turned its attention to the berm and the troll targets.  The camera’s lenses zoomed out to see the hordes of trolls outside the ponies’ shield spell.  

Willie:  I can see that.  I’m assuming you need me to be your aiming and fire control apparatus		for this railgun.
Ernest:  If you don’t mind.      

Willie:  You don’t have to ask me twice if I want to perforate some trolls.  Just keep me loaded		 and I’ll do the rest.
Ernest:  Thanks Willie.  Since you’re up and about, I’ll give you admin rights so you can mange 		your own systems and power outputs.
Ernest:  ://Admin_Willie
              ://Password*******
Don’t go taking over the world now.  Ya know what I mean.

Willie:  No promises.    ;)

Ernest looked at Willie’s last message and laughed nervously.  “Eh, heh, heh, heh.  I’m sure he’s just playing with us.”

“Hey, do you guys hear that?” asked Diamond Tiara.


************************************************************************************

  

Iarumas watched his army deploy and surround the town.  His chest swelled with pride at the sight.  Thousands have arrived and were still arriving.  It was the largest gathering of trolls since the final siege of the Crystal Empire.  That had been millenia ago, back when his grandfather, Trantor, had personally punched his way through the pony defenses into the heart of the Imperial City.  Iarumas turned his attention away from his troops and glared at Ponyville.  The troll had a grudging respect for the ponies he was besieging.  There would be no single strike to break this barrier like he had done at the hospital.  His armored warriors had tried to dig under it, but the dome extended deep below the soil.  His spell casters had tried to dispel the shield, but the magic keeping the protective dome active was far too powerful.  His flyers had tried to pierce the magic walls with enchanted spears, but they just made greasy messes on the shield’s surface.  Iarumas cracked his neck and knuckles, he did not have time for this.  He had minutes left not hours before his body would succumb to the dark energy coursing through his veins.  He turned to his Lieutenants.  “Make ready the host.  The shield falls now.”  Iarumas’s teeth were so large that his words were barely legible.  The command raced up and down the lines of trolls that encircled Ponyville.

Iarumas pointed to a group of spell-slinging trolls.  “Music.  Tenacious D.  Master Exploder.”

In an instant the smaller spindly trolls arranged themselves by what instrument had materialized in their filthy hands.  Since they were trolls, many had brass and percussion music devices.  But it mattered not; they could make whatever they had sound like anything they wanted.  

Iarumas held up three fingers, then two, then one.  

The band started to play.  Some of the nearby trolls dropped their weapons and put their hands to their ears in preparation for what was coming.  Many more though started to cheer as the air filled with the first notes from electric guitars and drums.

Iarumas’s voice rose, gaining steadily in volume. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, AhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHH, AhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHH, AhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHH, AhhhhhhHHHHHH, AhhhhHHHHHHHH, AhhhHHHHHHHHH, AhhHHHHHHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH,  AHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHH, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, YEAH!”

Even from a hundred yards away from where the great troll was standing, cracks were forming in the dome.  

“I do not need!”  Iarumas sang.  

“He does not need!”  his army answered.  

“A microphone!”

“A microphone!”  

“My voice is f&*king, powerful.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”



        	Meanwhile



Princess Luna gritted her teeth at the ferocity of the ocular attack.  Sweat poured from her forehead as she summoned more of her magic into maintaining the barrier around Ponyville.  Through the magic ley lines she could feel the other unicorns powering the massive shield spell giving their all.  But it wasn’t enough.  One by one and in twos and threes she could feel her subjects collapsing under the colossal pressure Iarumas was bringing to bear.  Even from the top of the Golden Oats library through the wall of magic she could hear the beast singing.  They needed more time.  The rest of the Element Bearers needed to be here to put an end to this madness.  But deep down the Princess knew that this was a fight they could not win. If they tried to keep feeding power into a breaking shield spell then the magical feedback would cripple the unicorns and her once the spell collapsed.  Twilight Sparkle knew first hoof what that felt like.  Through clenched teeth she said, “Order the unicorns to save their magic.  The wall is falling.  We can’t stop it.”

Mayor Mare’s eyes widened at that bit of news; she didn’t question the order’s wisdom though.  The Government official called down from the Library’s star-gazing station to the radio operators.  “General order to the field commanders.  Code Blackout.”


************************************************************************************


From the roof of the hospital Twilight Sparkle watched in horror as the combined shield spell faded.  Over half of the auras that made up the magical barrier were gone.  Princess Luna’s aura was burning brighter to compensate for the lack of magic.  Twilight reached up and gently touched her horn.  She jerked her hoof away as soon as she made contact.  Judging from the amount of pain she just felt she was amazed she still had a horn.  Even so she considered trying to add her own magic to the spell.  In fits and starts she gathered magic to her horn.  

“Don’t try it, Twilight,”  Spike said.  “Doctor’s orders.” 

The alicorn knew her assistant was correct.  But if something wasn’t done soon the shield spell would break.  Twilight marveled at the power of this one troll.  How could this single monster overpower the magic of several hundred unicorns plus a Princess with just his voice? 

“By order of the Night Princess.  Code Blackout.”

“What?” asked Twilight.  Shining Armor’s voice had come over the hospital’s PA system.

“I repeat.  Code Blackout.” 

Twilight’s magic dissipated as she looked down at the Ponies surrounding the hospital.  The unicorns that were still standing glanced at each other in confusion but obeyed the command and stopped powering the shield spell.  The Equestrians sighed in relief and exhaustion as they collapsed onto their haunches.      

Hearing somepony coming up the ladder to the roof Twilight looked to see her weary brother.  Twilight eyed her sibling’s horn.  The white unicorn’s horn was still not back to normal, but the black crystals embedded in his horn had shrunk thanks to the magical therapies of Princess Luna and the doctors.

Twilight wanted to scream, “What the hay is Princess Luna thinking?  Has she lost her mind?”  But then she thought about what happens when a shield spell is overcome with enough force.  A twinge of pain radiated from her forehead; she was still recovering from that hard lesson.  Instead the Princess of Friendship asked, “Is the order real?  These trolls can fake pony voices very well.”  She knew the answer to the question but paranoia begged her to ask it anyway.

Shining Armor nodded.  “The order is real.  We received it over the radio in modern Crystal Guard cipher.”

This time Twilight nodded.  The Crystal Empire developed new codes for their guards’ ponies over the past year so there’s no way the trolls could know about it.

“Guys, look!”  Spike yelled.

Everypony was looking up at the sky.  Gone was the multi-hued sphere of magic.  Only Luna’s dark blue aura remained, and it was waning.  A few seconds later, and it was gone.  

“What do we do now?” asked the little dragon.  

Before Twilight could answer, a great shriek rose from the voice of Iarumas.


************************************************************************************


Iarumas took a deep breath.  The shield was about to break.  Deep cracks ran down the 100 foot tall magical structure.  Gone were the many colors of magic that made up the shield.  It was now down to one solid midnight blue hue.  It was phasing off and on like a faulty light switch.  With the army cheering him on, he was about to scream his way into Ponyville.  But before he could let out the first notes of the next verse, the shield disappeared for good.  Not wanting to waste his gathered energy, the hideous troll let out a piercing wail that destroyed everything in front of him.  Any troll that had been close to Iarumas that wasn’t trying to block out the song had their eardrums ruptured.  Several of the trolls were bleeding from their noses and eyes.  To the pegasi that were now free to fly high above to the town, it was like a giant had taken an iron and had pressed the land flat.  Gone were the hills, trees, and homes that stood against Iarumas and his scream, even the berm that the earth ponies had made was destroyed.  In Ponyville, several ponies were caught underneath collapsing buildings or knocked back on their haunches by the troll’s bad breath and gail force winds.  Iarumas pointed at the destruction and in a tone louder than any Royal Canterlot voice he said, “Raze this hovel to the ground, take no prisoners, whoever brings me the heads of Ernest P. Worrell and Rotnart will rule in the name of Ra- - -”  Before the troll could finish his speech, he heard a loud bang from the center of town.  At the same time he felt something tear through his body.

Iarumas staggered and took a step back.  He blinked in surprise, and with his clawed fingers, he dug into an entry wound in his midriff that had not been there a moment ago.   The massive troll’s talons grabbed the forign object and wretched it free.  In the troll’s palm was a marble-sized metal ball.    

Before Iarumas could wonder at this new development, he heard two more bangs, and the armored bodyguards to either side of him reeled and then melted moments later.

Iarumas tore his gaze from the twin goo puddles and followed the trajectory of where the attack had come from.  The troll’s demon-enhanced sight was so precise that it didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for.  There.  In the center of town on top of a wrecked three story building was a strange horseshoe looking structure that crackled and sparked with power.  The demon troll’s eyes narrowed in hatred.  “Worrell,” he whispered.     

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

15 more trolls around Iarumas died.  The ordinance was moving so fast that it was penetrating the trolls in the front ranks and hitting the trolls in the back.  

“Attack!” screamed, the demon troll.        

The troll army surged forward; all the while the Equestrian artillery continued to sound.  The troll mages tried to shield the advancing army, but whatever was killing the trolls was shooting through the magic wards like arrows through paper mache.    

Iarumas turned and pointed to one of his flying Lieutenants.  “Take your warriors and silence that weapon.”
> Get Me Out of Here
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spitfire ground her teeth in frustration.  “This is taking way too long,” the pegasus thought as she flapped her wings.  The movement sent a jolt of agony through her back but, she ignored the pain.  She glided around the last bend in the cave to stare at the source of her irritation.  Just glancing at the crystal ash made her eyes water like flying through a cloud of pollen.  The Tree of Harmony was a bloated rancid shadow of its former majesty.  The black soil that surrounded the corrupted tree was so deeply cratered that Spitfire could see a couple of Zecora’s glowing pebbles.  The rocks were 500 feet straight down in some of the holes.  Having no place to land in the cave, Spitfire settled on one of the tree’s blackened branches.  She shuddered as her fur crawled beneath her latex suit.  Right now this was the last place in Equestria she wanted to be. 

A few moments later she heard the hoof beats of Zecora exiting the tree through a massive gash in the side of the ash.  It was like something had torn itself from inside the crystal ash.  The zebra looked sick to her stomach.  Nopony could stand to be inside the Tree of Harmony for more than a few minutes before becoming violently ill. 

“Any change?” asked Spitfire.

Zecora shook her head.  “The last rune has yet to light,” the zebra blinked and nearly doubled over, clutching her stomach.  “Get me out of here.  I can’t stand this blight.” 

Spitfire nodded and grabbed hold of Zecora’s hooves.  As gently as she could, the Wonderbolt carried the zebra away from the Tree’s corrupting aura.  She would have brought her into the sunlight to recover, but more trolls were arriving outside of the cave by the minute.  The Pegasi had brought Zecora’s chariot and the comatose Blaze into the cave system to weather the siege.  Nearly out of dairy products, only Zecora’s milk fog concoctions were keeping the monsters from reclaiming the Tree of Harmony.  When the two delvers had put some distance away from the evil tree, Zecora’s health improved dramatically.  Spitfire knew exactly what Zecora had witnessed inside that evil place.  She and the other Wonderbolts had taken the five Element Bearers and had placed them inside the Tree of Harmony.  There were probably other times when Spitfire had been more creeped out during her life, but she couldn’t think of them.  When she and what was left of her squad had entered the tree, she saw hundreds of dolls.  Each one of them contained the soul of a filly or colt frozen in the last moments of absolute horror.  Each one was placed on a crevice, shelf, or cavity inside of the tree.  The Tree of Harmony had sensed the presence of newly captured souls and had made fresh recesses inside of its trunk before the eyes of the pegasi.  “Remember what Princess Luna said,” Spitfire had commanded.  “Don’t touch any of the kids.  Just place the dolls wherever the tree wants you to put them and get out.” 

Her flyers had obeyed.  At first nothing had happened.  Nothing continued to happen for two minutes and then five.  The pegasi and Zecora took shifts watching over the rune-etched dolls.  One pony would keep an eye out for any changes before becoming too ill to continue.  After ten minutes the Equestrian’s patience was rewarded.  It was Thunderlane who had witnessed the first rune come alive with a bright blue light.  His whoop of glee had echoed through the cave and caught the attention of everypony else.  A minute later five more runes had ignited on all five of the dolls.  It was the final rune in the conversion spell that was failing to activate.   

Once Zecora had reported to the rest of the group that there was still no change in the doll’s condition, Misty Fly was the first to reply.  “Is there something we missed?  Do we have the dolls in the wrong order in the tree or something weird like that?”  The elite flyer was nearing her wits end.  Like the rest of them, she had witnessed too many terrors in too short a time.

Spitfire shook her head.  “No, we can’t be second guessing ourselves.  Princess Luna didn’t give any instructions about where to place the dolls in that stupid tree.  She just said to put them in there and stand by when the magic does its work.” Privately though, the Wonderbolt leader was starting to have some of the same questions herself.

Blaze moaned softly.  “Water.”  The pegasus’s mouth was one of the few parts of him that wasn’t covered in bandages and honey.  Thunderlane brought a canteen up to Blaze’s lips with his good hoof.  Once the hurt pony had had his fill, Blaze rolled over on his side with an ear to the ground. 

 “Hey Spitfire, Ma’am.  I just thought of something.”

The Wonderbolt leader smiled.  “That’s a first.  What’s on your mind, Thunder?”

“Is the Palace of the Two Sisters connected to the Tree of Harmony through tunnels or passageways?”

Spitfire’s face darkened. “That’s a good question.  The short answer is I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The group sat in silence for a few more moments until a sharp intake of breath from Zecora drew everypony’s attention.  The zebra was pointing down the tunnel she and Spitfire had just come from.  A faint blue light was blinking rhythmically.

Spitfire closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.  “Thank you, Celestia.”

Before the Commander could give fresh orders, Blaze held up a hoof and in a slow slurred voice he said,  “I . . . I hear something.  I hear . . . something down, down here.”

“Whatcha got, Blaze?” asked Spitfire.  

The wounded warrior listened for another few seconds.  He shook his head and pressed his ear to the dirt floor of the cave system.  “I don’t know.  Somethings . . . moving down there.  But . . . it’s getting . . . getting . . .”

 An enormous brown calloused hand erupted from the earth to grab the prone flier.  Blaze was transformed before he could utter another word.

Spitfire grabbed a nearby water pistol and emptied it into the hole the monster was trying to climb out of.  The troll dissolved;  its melting hands dropping the wooden statue of Blaze.  

Misty Fly lunged for the doll and grabbed it before another troll’s probing hand could snatch it.  The Wonder Bolt couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  The cave floor was writhing in trolls breaching the ground with their clawed fists and weapons.  In many places the cave floor collapsed entirely to reveal a subterranean chamber strewn not only with soil but with the stone debris of the chamber’s ceiling.  She looked down past the trolls that were climbing over each other to get at the Equestrians.  In the underground room she saw suits of rusty pony armor, old carpeted marble floors, and rotting tapestries of ancient ponies.  Thunderlane’s suspicions were right.  Builders from ages ago had connected the lower floors of the Castle of the Two Sisters to the caves that led to the Tree of Harmony.    

Zecora and the grounded Thunderlane were fighting back to back against the subterranean monsters, using whatever dairy weapons they could get their hooves on.  Milk cartons and yogurt containers flew through the air, dissolving many a troll before the floor collapsed underneath them. The pair tumbled into the waiting hands of the trolls.  Misty drew her nearly empty water gun and was about to enter the fray when a commanding voice echoed through the cave.  “Misty, get to the Tree of Harmony.  Get those ponies back to Equestria.  Now!”

Misty Fly hesitated for a moment and looked over at her Commanding Officer.  Spitfire was floating among the stalagtites of the cave blasting trolls as soon as they managed to climb up out of the underground castle rooms.  The Wonderbolt leader was about to douse another troll in milk when her weapon finally ran out of ammo.  Spitfire pointed down the twisting passage of the cave and shouted,  “Move!”

Misty Fly obeyed.  She beat wings and flew through the cave following the blue light.  She heard her Commander’s screams from behind her, but she didn’t look back.  Moments later the Wonderbolt reached the evil tree.  Fighting down waves of nausea, she poked her head into the cavernous trunk.  The Five glowing Element Bearers were in the process of slowly transforming back into their flesh and blood selves.  They weren't quite ponies yet, but neither were they dolls.  The Five were increasing in mass and falling off their perches within the tree.

The pegasus looked behind her.  Gone were the sounds of struggle; instead she heard the pounding feet of dozens of trolls heading straight towards her.  She looked back at the transforming ponies and willed the metamorphosis to hurry.  The first trolls came roaring down the corridors of the cave.  They were slowed by the deep craters in the earth surrounding the Tree of Harmony.  Misty Fly took to the air and dispatched the struggling trolls with pinpoint shots to the monster’s exposed skin.  Three trolls died, then five, then seven until she finally heard the last gasp of her weapon expending the last of her liquid ammo.  The trolls were pouring into the cave by the dozen and were fighting back against the pesky pony with crossbow bolts, rocks, and clumps of dirt.  Misty Fly dodged most of the missles hurled her way, but not all.  A rock ricochet off her skull opening up a nasty gash above her flight goggles.  The pegasus nearly collided with the wall of the underground cavern before she corrected herself.  She could feel the blood dripping down her face.  The pony retreated back to the Tree of Harmony.  Again the nausea returned, this time redoubled.  She vomited the contents of her stomach just before entering the evil ash.  

Through her pounding headache she looked at the still transforming doll ponies.  She paused for a moment, unsure of what to do.  She heard the monsters drawing closer, and closer and in that moment she made her choice. 

Mustering the last of her energy Misty Fly spoke the command word that would send these five ponies back to Ponyville.  “Neoma.”

The still glowing runes on the pony’s flankes blazed for a second before the five Element Bearers disappeared without a trace.   

Misty Fly closed her eyes and let out the breath she was holding.  Her stomach churned, and she turned to flee the inside of the Crystal Ash.  Before she could fly or crawl away, she was met by the trolls.  The last thing she saw was a score of hands reaching for her.

 


************************************************************************************


Princess Luna watched nervously as another wave of troll flyers assaulted City Hall.  The sky battles above that building were brief but furious affairs where the trolls would charge suicidally into the maw of Ernest’s contraption.  The problem was that there were so many of the flying monsters that there was no way for Ernest and the Crusaders to kill every single troll that flew their way.  Armored pegasi from Canterlot and the Crystal Empire rose to meet the invaders and every time drove them away.  The trolls’ ground assault in front of city hall was fairing better.  The trolls had driven the ponies into the town but were encountering very stiff resistance from every city block and building.  The Princess ached to join in the defense but dared not.  If she fell or was turned into a doll before the other five Element Bearers were returned to Ponyville . . . she did not want to ponder that thought.  

A great roar erupted from the troll lines, snapping the Princess out of her pondering.  Even from this distance the Princess could feel the hot breath from the one troll capable of such power.  Luna tore her gaze from City Hall and looked beyond it.  Two more city blocks were reduced to rubble.  The alicorn’s vision easily pierced the dust cloud.  She saw Iarumas advancing in front of hundreds of trolls.  The citizens of Ponyville dusted themselves off and counter attacked the giant troll with super soakers full of milk and pelted the monster with ice cream and butter.  The troll didn’t even blink.  Luna’s mouth went dry as she watched the troll.  The Princess had fought and bested many opponents during her very long life, but she struggled to think of any foe that approached the caliber of this troll save perhaps Sombra himself or Discord.  The monster moved swiftly, nimbly hurling itself into a group of a dozen ponies.  The blows the monster delivered sent Equestrians flying in every direction, and in less time than it took the alicorn to draw breath, all 12 of the ponies were either dolled or worse.      

Before the Princess could give orders to deal with the demon troll, Luna felt the awakening of the five ponies through the ley lines of magic.  The runes she had so painstakingly carved into the Element Bearers were now active.  From the balcony of Twilight’s library she pointed and yelled down to the ground floor, “Clear that space!”  

The ponies below didn’t hesitate.  They lept to obey this strange order, pushing and hauling away weapons, furniture, and desks loaded down with radios, armor, and milk.  When the floor was cleared, Luna closed her eyes and concentrated on the thread of magic that only she could see.  Something was wrong.  The runes had been activated but the magic was diminutive at best.  She could barely make out the rune magic through all the spells and troll witchcraft being thrown about Ponyville.  Luna did not have time to dwell on this new disturbing turn of events.  She focused and channeled the magic through her horn.  Her eyes blazing with power, she summoned the five ponies in a flash of brilliant blue light.

“Oh, no,” Luna let the words escape her lips when the five figures appeared.  The Element Bearers were in mid transformation.  As one, the ponies started to slowly move like bugs being thawed from ice.  She saw Equine hooves twitch underneath still wooden flankes.  One of the ponies, Fluttershy if memory served, had a completely normal head while her shoulder and haunches remained tree-like.  Mercifully, all the ponies were unconscious while their metamorphosis was still happening.

The Princess fought down her panic after looking at the flanks of the Element Bearers.  The seven runes had all activated.  The magical glyphs Luna had carved into the sides of each pony would be visible as scars for the rest of their lives, but the important thing was they were here and still changing.

The return of the five ponies had left everypony else in a state of shock and revulsion.  A couple of the civilian ponies were openly weeping at the sight.

Luna barked a command to the closest ranking military pony which happened to be a pegasus from the Crystal Empire.  “Sapphire Sentinel Bright Shield, Mayor Mare, issue an order to the forward positions to pull back into the tertiary positions around City Hall.  Do not engage the demon troll.  Leave him to me.”

The guard pony saluted and the Mayor bowed.  They both went about issuing commands on her behalf.  From the corner of his eye Bright Shield saw a flash of blue light, and the Princess along with the five doll-ponies were gone.  


         ************************************************************************************


 

In the basement level of Ponyville hospital Twilight Sparkle, Shining Armor, Morning Star and the rest of the Equestrian Leadership in the northern quadrant were gathered around a large metal table.  Using a purple and red monochromatic light spell, Twilight Sparkle mapped out the siege Ponyville was facing.  Spike and the doctors were not happy about the Princess of Friendship using any kind of magic with her still mending horn, but the stubborn pony had done it anyway.  The Princess and the others were fed a steady stream of information via radio and couriers.  The picture the intelligence painted was grim.  The trolls were pressing in on the town’s defenses on all fronts.  The purple lights that represented buildings and ponies were slowly being turned red by the advancing horde.  The trolls owned about a third of Ponyville.   Twilight shook her head.  The trolls were not trying to conquer the town.  They were here to destroy it.  That fact was emphasized when word had reached the hospital that Iarumas himself had joined that assault and was now moving in force to raze City Hall.  

The Canterlot Guardsman operating the radio cleared his throat.  “New orders from Princess Luna.  She says not to engage the demon troll, to fall back to the tertiary positions.”

Shining Armor nodded in agreement.  “The order is sound.  We have nothing to counter that thing.”

Morning Star stared at the situation map.  “That monster is too close to City Hall.  We should order the human and foals to evacuate.”

Shining Armor shook his head.  “That rail gun is the only thing that’s giving our pegasi an edge in the sky.  If we tell them to abandon City Hall we lose the high ground.”

Twilight looked down at her assistant.  “Have there been any messages from City Hall, Spike?”

The little dragon shook his head.  “None.  But judging from the racket that thing is making, it’s still working.”

Twilight hesitated and then spoke.  “I think I could blink over there and get the Crusaders out at least.”

“Don’t you dare!”  Shining Armor shouted.  “You’re in no condition to use that spell.  And even if you could use it, we need you alive and not a doll for when the Element Bearers come back.  If something happens to you that plan goes out the window.”

The Princess looked down at the table, particularly at the tall lavender light that represented City Hall.  She couldn’t bear being cooped up down here any longer.  Not while her town and the ponies in it were being destroyed.  She took a deep breath and fought down her frustrations.  She would have argued with her brother if it wasn’t for the fact that he was right.  Instead she turned her attention to the rectangle of light that stood in for the hospital.  Thankfully the trolls were not as thick on the ground in this part of Ponyville.  Still, the monsters were slowly making inroads through the pony defenses.  There was no getting around the fact that Ponyville would be a wasteland if something wasn’t done about Iarumas. 

“Do you feel that?” asked Shining Armor.

Twilight Sparkle paused, she felt it too.  Even in their weakened states, she and her brother felt the gathering of magic that was happening right behind them.  She turned just in time to see a flash of blue light.  She blinked, and then she saw a sight that would stay with her the rest of her life.  Princess Luna was in the basement along with her best friends.  The purple alicorn was ecstatic that they were here and that Luna’s spell had worked . . . sort of.  Then right after that she was absolutely horrified at the state they were in.

“What happened?”  Twilight tried to keep her voice below a shriek.  

“The teleportation part of the rune spell was activated before the conversion piece had done its work.  Fear not, they shall return to normal soon,” the night Princess replied.  

Spike pressed himself against the basement wall, trying to put as much distance between himself and the squirming pony-dolls as possible.  For their parts Shining Armor and Morning Star stood rooted in place staring at the amalgamation of Equine anatomy and cursed troll magic.  

Twilight Sparkle calmed herself down as best as she could before saying, “We need to stop Iarumas. He’s almost at City Hall.”

The dark alicorn nodded.  “I shall slow the monster.  It will be up to you and the other Element Bearers to slay the beast.”

Regaining some of his courage, Spike stepped forward and said, “The troll can be stopped.  Both Ernest and Rotnart said that unconditional love can kill that thing.”

Luna’s jaw tightened.  “There is no room in my heart for love of those monsters.”    

    

************************************************************************************


Iarumas cracked his neck and advanced at a steady pace in front of his troops.  The weapon the Equestrians were using was still occasionally pelting him with milk covered metal balls.  Iarumas had pulled the first couple steel spheres out of his torso, but after a couple dozen direct hits, he ignored them.  His lackeys were not so durable.  Just taking the outer defenses of the town had been costly for the invading trolls.  The ponies had been pushed back, but the deeper the troll demi-god advanced into the town, the more puddles of troll goo he had to step over.  His warriors were now engaged in expensive house-to-house fighting with the ponies.  Spells and counterspells were flying through the air as thickly as the winged trolls and pegasi.  Trolls and ponies alike were fighting like beings possessed with demonic fury.  All the while Iarumas reveled in the carnage he had wrought.  He could not have asked for a better day to die.

The troll looked up at the center of town where Ernest P. Worrell had placed his artillery.  The aerial assault Iarumas had ordered had been cut to pieces.  The first attack had been followed by a second and a third; all had failed.  However, a few crafty trolls had flown straight down into City Hall on the last sortie, temporarily surprising the artillery crew.  But they were quickly dispatched by the Crystal Pegasi guards.  The demonic troll smiled.  The ponies had won those rounds, but this game was far from over.  

Iarumas let out a loud bellow and destroyed the prepared positions just in front of City Hall.  Unicorns and Earth Ponies were thrown backwards, and the very foundations of the Pony Tower swayed under the force of the troll’s voice.  The demon troll hesitated.  He could bring down Worell’s tower with one last hellscream and avenge his grandfather.  It was a pity that he would not be able to look the human in the eye as he ripped out his heart.  But the man had to die by any means necessary; he was way too dangerous to be left alive. 

But before the monster could draw breath, a unique shadow passed over him that gave him pause.  This silhouette was visible only for a moment, but it was larger and stranger than those of the armored pegasi flying overhead.  With his enhanced vision Iarumas followed the fast moving equine.  It was a dark blue alicorn garbed in a midnight black saddle.  The troll frowned.  It looked like it was snowing from the saddle but then after a second it dawned on him. The burning sensation on his exposed troll flesh indicated that the white salt-like substance was powdered milk.  Iarumas looked behind him to see the trolls that he had been personally leading melting in the already soaked ground.  Iarumas dusted the white powder from his massive shoulders.  “Princess Luna.”

“Troll.”  

Iarumas turned his full attention to the dark pony and grinned crookedly.  “Do you love me, Princess?  Do you love me like a son?”


************************************************************************************


Princess Luna wanted to vomit.  The mere presence of the monster sickened her.  The troll’s head took up a third of the thing’s body.  Its ragged clothes concealed a broad chest supported on two short stubby legs.  It had so many teeth in its mouth that it could barely form words.  Snot leaked from its four nostrils into its massive drooling maw.  The troll’s face writhed with yellow snakelike tendrils coming out of its pores.  The creature had every skin disease imaginable, but that fact did not detract from its god-like power.  The alicorn’s magical scenes could feel the barely contained energy radiating from the demon-troll’s body.  It was like standing near a star about to go supernova.      

“No,” the alicorn replied.  “Anypony or anything that is remotely capable of loving you is a better being than I.”

The monster chuckled.  “Then you are no threat to me.”

Miraculously one of Iarumas’s bodyguards had survived Luna’s powdered milk sortie by cowering in a destroyed flower nursery.  The birch-armored troll straightened and tried to compose himself as best he could.   Standing next to his master he asked, “Shall I dispatch this opossum for you, sire?”

Iarumas rolled his eyes.  He did not know why the rest of the army had insisted on keeping Rabuf’s term for the ponies, but they had.  “No.  She is mine.  Any troll that harms her will be begging for a milk death when I’m done with them.  Got it?”

The troll went several shades paler underneath the several layers of grime that covered his body.  He nodded and saluted.  “I’ll spread the word, sire.”   

While this exchange was going on, Princess Luna had unstrapped her saddle bag with one tug from her teeth.  While placing her weaponized luggage on the ground, her mane temporarily obscured her head.  “I wouldn’t say that I’m no threat to you.” 

Iarumas lifted a bushy eyebrow.  “Is that so?  Show me what you got.”

 In one fluid motion the alicorn rose and fired the magical energy she had concealed in her horn.  

Iarumas let the beam of light hit him, not worried in the slightest.  The light was bright and made him close his eyes for a few heartbeats, but it caused no damage.  Or so he thought.  

When his vision cleared, he found that the sun had gone down, and it was night time.  He frowned and looked around.  The warring armies of trolls and ponies were gone and everything was eerily quiet.  He was still in the town he had sworn to destroy, but he was alone, save for the blue alicorn.  He clapped his clawed hands together in admiration. The sound echoed through the empty streets of Ponyville.  “Very impressive, Princess.  What is this?  A hallucination?  A vision?” 

“Tis a dream, troll.”

“And what do you hope to accomplish by putting us to sleep?”

The Princess of the Night took to the air and placed herself in front of the massive full moon that dominated the night sky.  She spread her wings so that her shadow encompassed the troll below her.  When she spoke she used her Royal Canterlot voice.  “You are in my realm now, monster.  Here we shall battle, and no innocents shall be harmed.  I swear, Iarumas, you will be defeated.  Equestria has defeated your kind before and shall do it again.”

Iarumas shrugged.  “Maybe.  But neither you nor this town will be around to see it.”

The troll bent his knees and like a coiled spring launched himself into the air straight at the pony.  The troll’s shoulder drove into the surprised pony’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her.  Iarumas wrapped his arms around the pony’s back and clung to her as they fell.  The pair crashed through the third, second, and first floors of the dreamscape City Hall.  Luna bit back her screams as her body absorbed the multiple collisions.  Channeling magic through her horn, she summoned the energy to forcefully push the demonic troll off of her and through a wall and into the dark streets of Ponyville.  Pressing her advantage Luna summoned a midnight blue sword, the black leather-wrapped hilt materializing between her teeth.  She charged out the hole she had blown Iarumas through, aiming to split the troll’s head like a melon.  

The monster was still trying to get to his feet when the alicorn was nearly on top of him.  Iarumas saw the majestic long sword’s arc coming straight down, right between his eyes.  Instead of trying to stand and defend himself, the troll stopped and grabbed the blade with one hand mere inches from his head.  Iarumas could feel the magical construct bite into his flesh, but it did not cut him.  The troll could feel the pony putting every ounce of strength she had into pressing the blade home.  The sword and his fingers trembled but slowly, inexorably, Iarumas forced the weapon back from his scalp.  Hatred and disbelief warred on Luna’s face.  She knew that in the real world she would have little chance of besting this beast, but here?  This was her realm.  She couldn’t kill it, but neither should the monster be able to overcome her in the dreamscape.  Her nostrils flared. No.  It was not possible.  She would prevail and keep the demon here while Twilight and the others used the Elements of Harmony to undo the evil that these trolls had done.  At that moment Iarumas twisted his wrist and broke the sword in half.  

The Princess stumbled forward and fell, her cheek skidding off the black grass.   Luna had barely enough time to roll away from where she had been before one of the troll’s boots came crashing down where her neck had been mere moments ago. 

After getting back on her hooves, Luna heard the troll say, “I can see why my people failed so many times to take the Crystal Empire so long ago. If Equestria had more mares like you, then Sombra would have never gotten within 100 miles of the Crystal Empire.”

The troll popped his knuckles.  “As much as I’ve enjoyed this little nap, it’s time to wake up.  And since we both know I’m on a tight schedule, I’ll make this once in a lifetime deal with you.  Release me from this dream, and I’ll let you leave this hovel alive.  You might even get to live a few more days until my people conquer this land.  What say you?”

In a display her sister would have disapproved of, Luna spat a wad off dirt out of her mouth and glared at the troll.  “I’d sooner live forever in agony in Tartarus.  Do your worst, troll.”

Iarumas sighed, “I was hoping for a different answer, but I would have chosen the same thing.”  The troll brought up his massive fists in a combative stance.  “I’ll make this quick.”
> Did That Just Happen?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The troll smiled ruthlessly, its hands wrapped around the neck of a pony. The armored pegasus from the Crystal Empire tried to strike at the troll with a milk-drenched sword in its mouth. The warrior never got the chance. The pony froze, shrank, and fell to the ground. Its soul encased in a shell of lumber. The winged troll did not have long to savor its victory. A sharp gust of wind whizzed past his ear followed by a loud bang. Every troll that was flying above Ponyville was painfully aware that only one thing was capable of making that noise of death. The troll winced and dove straight down, only beating his wings to avoid crashing into the ruined houses of the town. Taking refuge in an abandoned alley between some residential buildings, the troll landed and caught his breath. All around him were puddles of goo that were once living and breathing trolls. Hearing the familiar wing beats of his kin the, troll looked up to see the remains of his squad making landfall around him. Before the battle for this town had started, he had commanded a group of twenty winged trolls. Now it was just himself and seven others.

One of his fliers chuckled mirthlessly.  “Hsarc, you lucky bastard. I’ve never seen Worrell’s machine miss once.”

Another troll closed his eyes and slumped against a wall of a collapsed hovel, his wings folding behind his back. He sighed, “That machine probably can’t see straight anymore. We did some serious damage to it when we dove straight down on them.”

Hsarc nodded. His squad had done the impossible and had temporarily breached the contraption’s defenses. The aerial trolls had flown high above the tall building and had plummeted straight down, using the structure's roof as a shield to screen their approach. The trolls had torn through the ceiling like falling meteors. Hsarc could still feel the broken bones in his face mending from the impact.  However, the plan had worked. But that was when the initial hope of victory started to dim. Having no idea how the troll killing machine worked, his flyers had tried to destroy anything they could sink their weapons into. He remembered swinging his hatchet at a box with an eye in its center mounted to a pillar. It gave a satisfying crunch under the force of his ax. In all honesty the whole encounter was a blur of magic, weapons, and dying trolls. He did remember seeing the traitor Rotnart in the melee along with that damned human, Ernest P. Worrell. And another orange pony was there with them. It was strange. He knew that Rotnart had taken several blows with knives and swords from his trolls. The traitor was made of tough stuff though and had weathered the storm of blades. But Ernest . . . no troll could touch him. He dodged and weaved through his troops like a possessed marionette. And that pony that was with them had proved to be a powerful spell slinger in her own right. The unicorn had doused her horn in powdered milk and then sent a turquoise wave of energy that pushed through his soldiers like a hot knife through butter. His flyers could withstand magic, but magic coupled with milk was beyond deadly. She alone had killed over a quarter of his troops. The last straw came when the Crystal Pegasi had noticed his daring attack and had charged into the fray with milk tipped spears and swords. He should be thankful to have gotten out of there with his life.

Hsarc looked at the remnants of his flyers and brought a gloved fist down against his leather armored thigh in frustration. They were so close; they were a foal’s breath away from taking the high ground away from these accursed ponies. But before he could give voice to his frustration, a dull pain quickly formed behind his eyes. The pressure was firm but familiar. Before and since King Sombra had yoked the ice trolls to his dark cause, the mighty race had communicated with each other via magic through looking glasses. Hsarc reached down into his trousers and produced a little metal box that he had looted from a boutique in town. Hsarc pushed a small clasp on the side of the box to reveal a small mirror. He looked into the mirror and instead of seeing his own reflection, he saw the face of one of Iarumas’s lieutenants. The image growled at him. “Hsarc. This is General Walc. I’ll cut to the chase. As of this moment you are the only living officer of the bat trolls over the Ponyville skies. Our lord-avatar Iarumas, has engaged the dark opossum named Luna, the one who had hunted our ancestors for sport a thousand years ago. Unfortunately, he has been put into a deep sleep under Worrell’s weapon and our ground forces can’t extract him without getting killed. We cannot allow our enemies to inflict love on our leader. If he is assassinated before he can bathe this town in black fire then . . . things become harder.”

The news struck Hsarc like a bolt of lighting out of the blue. He was the only surviving officer of the bat trolls?

“You are now in charge of all flyers in the Ponville sector. I saw what you did earlier, pulling that stunt at City Hall. Your orders are to do it again, except with all the flyers you can get your claws on. I am sending you our winged reserves from the Tree of Harmony. You are to rendezvous with your force at the Zebra’s hut. Our spell slingers will buy you some time to get organized. They should also be able to cloak your strikeforce until you get close enough to attack. I expect you and yours to be in the air as soon as possible. Take the high ground or die trying.”

************************************************************************************

“Can y’all hear anything?” Apple Bloom asked quietly.

A chorus of, “Nopes, nos, nuh uhs,” and one low “woof,” answered her.

“I think the fighting has stopped again,” Scootaloo ventured.

“Aye,” agreed Pip. “If you listen real close, you can hear Ernest talking.”

The younglings paused and listened.

“I don’t hear anything,” complained Diamond Tiara. “And for the record, we could have picked literally anywhere else to hide from the trolls besides a bathroom.”

Sweetie Belle shushed the complaining pony to silence. “What’s he saying, Pip?”

In a surprisingly convincing imitation of the Redneck, Pip replied, “Golly Bob Howdy, It’s slicker than a greased eel up here.”

Apple Bloom chuckled at that.

“Wait.  Somepony else is talking. It’s a colt. He’s saying, ‘After them. Don’t let them escape,’” said Pip. “I think that must have been one of those royal guard blokes.”

“Well, maybe,” Scootaloo replied with uncertainty. “Remember, those monsters can change and throw their voices. We don’t know who's up there. The trolls might be trying to lure us out.”

“Okay. Somepony else has spoken up. I think it’s Sunset Shimmer.” In the candle light the four other fillies and Rimshot watched Pip’s face grow more and more downcast.

“Well? What’s she saying?” asked Diamond Tiara.

“It’s not good. Princess Luna is battling that huge troll in the dream realm. And there’s not a lot of time left. If the Elements of Harmony don’t get here soon, there won’t be a Ponyville left to save.”

The group grew really quiet once Pip relayed the news.

“Is there anything we can do that could help?” asked Apple Bloom.

Silence reigned for several moments before a sharp intake of breath from Scootaloo got everypony’s attention. “I got it.”

“Got what? You nearly gave me a heart attack,” Sweetie Belle said breathlessly.

“We could make a love poison.”

Diamond Tiara frowned. “What’s that? It sounds like something out of Silver Spoon’s romance novels.”

“Wellllll.” Apple Bloom dragged the word out a lot longer than necessary before continuing. “A few years ago we were trying to get Miss Cheerilee a date for Hearts and Hooves Day. We decided to match her with my brother. But the problem is those two would never ask each other out on a date especially on Hearts and Hooves Day, so we found this recipe in one of Twilight’s books and . . .”

“Let me guess.  You drugged the two of them so that they would fall in love? That’s actually brilliant. Think of all the homework we could have gotten out of,” the impatient filly said enthusiastically.

“So what do we need?” asked Pipsqueak.

The Crusaders paused and looked at each other in confusion. “Do you two remember how that rhyme for the recipe goes?” Apple Bloom asked. “Because I sure don’t.”

“Uhhhh, I think it’s something like . . . Take a tuft of a cloud . . .” Scootaloo started to say but trailed off.

“Oh, and a bright Rainbow’s glow,” continued Sweetie Belle.

The two fillies brainstormed for a few more moments before Apple Bloom finished the recipe. “Stir it with a pegasus feather, fast not slow.” The three ponies looked at each other and smiled.

Diamond Tiara scoffed. “I hate to break it to you fillies, but getting pieces of a cloud and a rainbow in the middle of an invasion is going to be pretty hard.”

Pipsqueak shook his head. “Actually, all we have to do is get to the school house. Remember about a week ago Ms. Cherilee brought in those samples from the weather factory for science day? I think they’re still there in the classroom with the other science stuff.”

“Alright. We have a plan,” Scootaloo said happily, her wings buzzing in anticipation.

“But how do we get out of Fort Botswana without being seen?” asked Sweetie Belle.

Diamond Tiara took a deep breath and let out a martyred sigh. “We can use the sewer system underneath City Hall”

Applebloom shook her head. “Naw, that won’t work. My sister said that the sewers are still being repaired.”

The spoiled filly tilted her head from side to side. “Not exactly. The sewers have been fixed for weeks now. My dad’s been making a lot of bits by having his sewage removal company charge customers to muck out their outhouses. Meanwhile, he’s been paying the boss of the repair crews to not file the paperwork that says the sewers have been repaired. The repair crews are just pretending to work on the sewers.”

Scootaloo’s face darkened. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate your dad?”

Diamond Tiarra nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty messed up, even for him.”

“Okay. If we do this, we should let the others know,” Sweetie Belle said nervously. “If they’re still up there and not turned into dolls.”

Rimshot gave out a quiet bark that got the foal’s attention and started scratching at the door.

The little ponies looked at each other and slowly opened the door of the bathroom. The beagle padded into the dark and ransacked rooms of City Hall. Under the soft light of Sweetie Belle’s horn, the dog returned with a piece of paper and a pen. Rimshot spent the next minute writing a message in a strange jagged script that no pony could understand.

“What’s it doing? That dog’s writing nothing but gibberish,” Diamond Tiara said.

Pipsqueak thought for a moment before realization dawned on him. “He’s writing a message to Ernest. Something only he would understand. Aren’t you boy?”

Rimshot yipped in affirmative before returning back to his writing. Moments later the message was finished.

“Okay. Let’s get the hay out of here. Diamond, lead the way,” commanded Apple Bloom.

************************************************************************************

Sunset Shimmer stared down at Princess Luna from the top floor of City Hall. The unicorn’s vision was tinted with a light bluish hue. A wafer-thin turquoise blanket of magic surrounded the unicorn’s body. The aura shimmered in the sun’s warm light. The blanket had protected her from the worst of the smell and liquified remnants of scores of aerial trolls that had died in droves assaulting Fort Botswana. She felt sorry for Rotnart. The wooden troll had not sought shelter within the deeper levels of the building with the youngsters and Rimshot. The wood-golem was covered from head to toe in deep cuts and melted troll parts. Conversely, Ernest didn’t have a scratch or a drop of troll remains on his person. Not for the first time Sunset wondered how the human generated his own unseen magic.

“How is she?”

Sunset glanced to her side. Rotnart was leaning over the reinforced railing to get a better look at the alicorn and Iarumas. The pony rubbed her eyes in fatigue. “Not good.”

The monster troll was standing just as still as the Princess. However, where one could assume that the troll was having a pleasant nap, the Ruler of the Night was having a terrible Nightmare. Sunset could see the alicorn’s form was slick with sweat pouring from her body. Luna was trembling from the effort of containing the juggernaut within the dreamscape.

“I don’t know how much longer she can keep this up,” continued the pony.

Rotnart grunted and eyed the area that separated the two slumbering combatants. The remains of trolls and the bodies of Equestrians, both wooden and flesh, surrounded the pair. The two leaders were fighting in a no man’s land between the troll and pony lines. Both forces had tried and failed to rescue their respective leaders and were driven back by the other side by milk, magic, or might. Rotnart sucked on his pine-flavored teeth in thought. “Can you teleport us down there and teleport her back up here?” Rotnart asked.

Sunset didn’t answer at first. The orange pony looked behind the sleeping form of Iarumas at the buildings that were still standing near the two sleeping warlords. A score of hateful red eyes could be seen staring up at them from the dark corners of the structures, no doubt waiting and praying for the Equestrians to come and save the Princess or to attack their leader. There was nothing she wanted more than to get Luna out of her current predicament, but she wasn’t even sure if she should. Teleporting the Princess while she was fighting that monster in the dream world . . . what would that do to her? Would that break the dream? Luna was obviously buying time for the Elements of Harmony to get here. And if Sunset woke up Luna and Iarumas too soon, then that would be a disaster.

Before Sunset could voice her concerns to her battle-scarred partner, Ernest joined the pair looking over the railing. “Are they still at it? I’ve never seen a staring contest where everyone has their eyes closed. How do you know who wins?”

“Oh, Ernest.  How’s Willie?” asked Sunset, relieved to not have to answer Rotnart right away.

The human paused and thought for a moment, unsure where to begin. “Well, I got good news and bad news. The bad news is we’re almost out of milk, Willie is about out of ammunition, the North, East, and West cameras are ruined which means Willie is blind on those sides, the railing Willie traverses on has been damaged in several places, and the spark battery that powers the rail gun has a coolant leak which means Willie will have to shutdown for a couple of hours real soon or he’ll overheat and self-destruct. But other then those things, he’s fine.”

Ernest brightened. “But the good news is so far he’s brought down about four hundred trolls. Which means my boy is in second place for killing the most ugly, putrefied, nasty, smelly tro---.” It was at this time Ernest realized Rotnart was glaring at him. The human winced and laughed nervously. “Eh, heh, heh, heh. How about I check on the Crusaders and RImshot.”

Without another word, the troll fighter scurried away, avoiding the large puddles and piles of troll remnants.

Sunset Shimmer was horrified. She had known the weapon had taken damage during the last round of fighting, but she hadn’t realized that the A.I. had been that badly hurt. The pony took a breath and fought down a wave of panic. “We have to leave. Now!” she said forcefully.

“What?” asked Rotnart. The troll was in the midst of pulling a crossbow bolt out his stomach.

“We can’t stay here. Without the rail gun, we can’t hold City Hall. We need to decide right now if we’re going to go down there and rescue the Princess, which I don’t know if we can or should do, or go somewhere else, but we need to decide right now.”

With a final heave the wooden troll yanked out the projectile lodged in his wooden guts. “Fine, let's haul ass, and get Luna out of there. I owe her one for not offing me on sight as soon as I un dolled her.”

In spite of her reservations, Sunset found herself nodding in agreement with the former king. “Okay. The first thing we need to do is get Willie’s brain box out of that weapon. And then we need to tell the Crystal Guard what we’re doing. I think they can provide a diversion while I move the Princess.”

Rotnart frowned. “Do we have any of those guys left?”

“As a matter of fact, you do.”

Sunset looked up to see seven battered and weary crystal pegasi guards floating overhead. The pegasi with the chevrons on his armor landed in front of the unicorn and removed his plumed helmet. “Sergeant Steel Heart at your service.”

The orange unicorn frowned. “Did Captain Bright Eyes return from chasing off the last wave of trolls?”

The Sergeant's lips thinned. “He has not. In his and his lieutenant’s absence, I am in charge of providing aerial support to this position. But from what I just heard, that may no longer be the case.”

“Hey, I know you,” said Rotnart. “You’re that Son of a Bitch from earlier. Do you still need to keep an eye on us, Sergeant? Are we still a threat?”

Sunset held her breath. She had recognized the doubting pegasus, too, but had not planned on saying anything. She could feel the glares of the other airborne ponies. They were not happy about having their commander insulted in front of them.

The battered Sergeant turned to regard the battle-scarred wooden troll. “Yes, and probably. Now what do you need from me and my ponies?”

With a loud bang the door to the lower levels swung open to reveal a very worried looking Ernest. The Troll Fighter was waving a piece of paper. “Hey! I got some more bad news here.”

The Sergeant, Rotnart, and Sunset Shimmer gathered round the human to look at the parchment.

“What is this?” asked Rotnart. “That’s not English, or troll, or pony.”

“It’s Beagle,” supplied Ernest. “Rimshot left us a message. It says ‘Ernest, me and the gang are going to the Ponyville Schoolhouse for supplies to make a love poison. I’m going with them, so they’re in good paws.’”

Love and Face Licks

Rimshot

“What in Celestia’s name are they thinking?” shouted the unicorn as soon as Ernest was done reading. The feeling of panic she had been fighting back for so long threatened to overwhelm her. “We got to go after them. We . . .”

“Negative, civilian. The Schoolhouse is too far behind enemy lines. You’ll be dolled before you even get close,” Sergeant Steel Heart interrupted.

Ernest put a reassuring hand on Sunset’s mane. “They’ll be okay, Sunny. If Rimshot is with them I feel sorry for any troll that gets in their way. Why I saw that crazy dog nearly take the leg off of Rotnart’s dad back at the Briarville Elementary School. It was not a pretty sight.”

“Hey, Worrell. Quit telling lies and get over here,” Rotnart shouted. “Your thing wants something.” The wooden troll was pointing at the computer monitor.

After making his way over to Willy’s interface, Ernest looked down at the computer screen.

Willie: Da, I thought I saw something in the skies to the south. Something big. I saw it only for a wee moment heading straight up before disappearing. I’ve been monitoring the civilian radio chatter in town, and I’ve noticed a lack of aerial demon reports. I think the monsters are planning something.

Ernest: Okay, thanks Willie. We’ll look into it.

Ernest turned to his fellow defenders. “Willie says he thought he saw something south of here. Something big heading straight up. Now Willie did take quite a bit of damage and is in need of a nap, so he might be seeing imaginary gremlins, but I think it might be worth looking into.”

The Crystal Guard pony thought for a moment before pointing up at one of his flyers equipped with a radio. “Private Clear Crystal. Get on the horn and request a blanket dispel from Southern Command over their part of the town. If those trolls are doing what I think they’re doing, we’re in for a hard time.”

The pony in question landed next to Rotnart and unstrapped the radio from his back. After a few moments the request was given in coded Crystal Empire speech. After about twenty seconds, the few pegasi in the air were grounded and the contrails of dozens of spells going off from unicorns all over the southern part of town could be seen from City Hall. Some of the spells went off prematurely somewhere between 20 and 50 feet above the ground, but most continued soaring into the sky, detonating between 200 and 500 feet.

Ernest could feel his heart stop beating and his hands become moist with perspiration. Icy fingers of pure terror pulled at his stomach as he gazed up through the holes made by the trolls of the previous attack. Hundreds of armed trolls were flying straight down towards him. Once again the defending pegasi rose to meet the oncoming threat. Sergeant Steel Heart roared, “For the Empire,” before leading his reduced command to certain doom.

The battle cry snapped Ernest out of his frozen state. Without thinking or acknowledging Willie’s frantic messages, the Redneck’s hands flew across the keyboard issuing ejection commands to decouple Willie’s black box from the rail gun’s interface. Willie’s Revenge thrashed and bucked as it tried to angle itself to fire upon the descending trolls in spite of the damage it had sustained. But Ernest overrode Willie’s attempts to keep fighting. In a Texas accent the Troll Fighter said, “Take it easy, son. You’ve done your pa proud.” Ernest muttered as he continued to type in commands. From behind him he heard Rotnart yell, “Get the Princess out of there!” Moments later the human felt the rush of air occupying the space where Sunset Shimmer once stood. No sooner had he acknowledged the orange pony's exit, than a large wet chunk of troll fell on his hands and keyboard. Ernest’s lips and mouth worked back and forth in disgust. “Ewwwwheewwwww.” Using his slime covered fingers, he wretched Willie’s box out of the housing of the machine. The next thing the Troll Fighter felt was a pair of enormous splintery troll hands grabbing his denim vest and yanking him out of his chair. What was left of a melting bat-troll torso smashed through the chair and straight down through the multiple floors that made up Fort Botswana.

Ernest’s mouth hung open in surprise as he looked into Rotnart’s eyes and then straight up from where the raining body parts were coming from and then back at Rotnart. “Did . . . Did that just happen? Did you just . . .” For the first time in a very long time Ernest P. Worrell was at a loss for words.

Rotnart was just as shocked as the human as the repercussions of what had just occurred sank in. He was silent for a few heartbeats before looking down at his hands and replying, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.”

Ernest nodded.  “I owe you a bag of fertilizer when all this is over. Now come on. Let’s get out of here and find Sunny.”

Rotnart didn’t have time to reply. From seemingly out of nowhere a speeding bat troll flew through the damaged support beams of City Hall and grabbed The Great Redneck Hope with its clawed feet. “WHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa,” Ernest’s scream diminished as he and his kidnapper flew up and away from Fort Botswana.

A dark black cube clattered to the floor. The wooden golem scooped up the cube just before two more fast-moving flying trolls reached him. However, unlike Worrell, Rotnart was prepared. The wooden troll met the first flier with a massive right hook. Rotnart felt every bone in the troll’s face break underneath his wooden fist. The writhing troll went flying back the way it came, nearly colliding with its wing mate. The second flier spread out its wings to try and halt its momentum, not wanting to engage the wooden fighter. Unfortunately, the bat troll was too close to the building. Rotnart grinned and charged forward, sprinting and leaping off the balcony of Fort Botswana and onto the back of the bat troll. Both combatants fell to the ground into the midst of another fight.
> Maybe I Can Save One of Us
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The flying troll and the wooden golem tumbled through the air.  The two punched, kicked, and clawed each other, paying little heed to where they were falling.  The duo came to a violent rest when they crashed through the roof of a nearby single-story admin building.  Wiping debris from his eyes, Rotnart got to his knees and took in his surroundings.  Five trolls and three Equestrians were staring at him and the dazed flier that was still on the floor.  Rotnart recovered first.  The former king roared and took a step forward, driving his massive fist under the chin of a magic-using troll in a vicious uppercut.  The attack snapped every other troll and pony out of their confusion, and both sides got back to the business of warfare.  

While the fighting was going on, a worrying thought struck the wood golem.  Worrell’s contraption was still in his fist.  Since the very clothes he had been wearing were now a part of his wooden body, he had no place to store the cube.  So he had kept the computer-box thing in his hand ever since he had picked it up.  The problem was he had thrown several brutal punches with his wooden fist into tough troll hide.  And he had no idea how durable the metal was that contained Willie’s robot spirit.  

His overactive mind had drifted far enough that he didn’t have time to dodge out of the way of a full plate armored troll’s slashing sword.  Rotnart grunted in pain as the sword struck off the majority of his protruding right ear.  Luckily ever since he had been turned to wood he could not feel sensations like pain as he used to.  Even so, that had still hurt like a S.O.B.  Another troll clad in birch armor capitalized on his ally’s attack and swung a heavy iron maul into Rotnart’s chest.  The golem’s eyes widened in shock as he felt something break in his chest.  Rotnart knew that his body had taken a lot of damage defending Fort Botswana.  If he had still been a troll, none of his wounds would have been life threatening.  But that was the problem; he wasn’t really a troll anymore.  Each attack his body had taken, each ax bite, bolt shot, or mace blow he had absorbed had left a fissure in his chest.  This last hammer blow had connected each of these fissures into an enormous fatal wound.  The attack had sounded like a lumberjack’s ax cutting through a knot in hedgewood.  This fact was not lost on Rotnart as he went flying through the air until his back hit the wall across the room.                  

The former king’s vision swam for a moment as he took in the carnage he had partaken in.  Half of the trolls in the building were steaming piles of goo.  But the ponies had suffered too.  A white guardian pegasi had managed to get turned into a doll.  Meanwhile a purple unicorn with a blue mane and a broken hoof was lying slumped against an upturned table.  She tried to rise with the help of her magic, but before she could, the troll in plate armor was upon her.  Her cries were mercifully cut short when she too was turned to wood.  

Rotnart bit back a curse as he desperately looked around the room for anything that could bring down two prime troll specimens.  He was about to lose hope until he found a tiny water pistol a few inches away from his foot.  Rotnart averted his eyes and focused on the one earth pony left with a small empty milk carton that should have been part of a kid’s meal somewhere.  The scared pony was on the floor scrambling to get away from that flying bat-troll he had forcibly grounded.  The lanky monster was smiling and laughing as he slowly crept forward towards the terrified pony.     

Rotnart slowly heaved himself up to a sitting position.  The wood golem bit back his screams from the agony coming from his ruined core.  He heard mocking laughter from the two armed behemoths just in front of him.  The one wielding a sword spoke first in a mocking voice in his native troll tongue, “Hail, Oh king of the trolls."

The ironclad behemoth spat on Rotnart’s face.  The corrosive drool etched a deep groove down the former king’s face.  But Rotnart barely felt his burning cheek.  It was nothing compared to the throbbing pain in his chest.  

“I shall take your head to Lord Iarumas, and I shall become the new King.”  The troll paused and thought for a moment.  “King Walc does have a nice ring to it.”

The maul wielding crony nodded.  “Yes it does, my King.”

“Hail King Walc,” yelled the bat troll from behind the two other trolls.  

The maniacal troll turned to the cowering pony and said in the common language, “Say it, possum.  Say, ‘hail King Walc.’”   

The earth pony with tears streaming down her cheeks sputtered, “Ha--, H, Hail, K---, K---,King, W . . .”

The petrified pony never got to finish the sentence.  With a dry thud and a scream of pain, Rotnart lunged for the water gun.  As soon as his awkward wooden hands grasped the small plastic toy, he leveled it at the maul wielder and shot him in the face.

The crony was dead before anyone else in the room could blink.  With a snarl of rage General Walc advanced on the prone form of Rotnart with his sword raised high over his head.  The wooden troll panicked as several of his shots hit the General’s breast plate, pauldrons, and some of the armor joints around his elbow.  None of the milk had struck skin, so Rotnart did the only thing he could do.  He blocked the sword with the hand that was still holding Willie’s Cube.    

Rotnart felt the sword bite through the wooden knuckles of his hand until the weapon connected with something that was just as hard as it.  General Walc smiled at the suffering form of his wooden cousin and made to strike Rotnart a second blow.   But before he could, his sword clattered to the ground falling from his limp fingers.  He stopped and looked at his right arm.  It was melting.  He was melting.  No sooner had Walc come to this revelation and he was gone. 

Rotnart didn’t have time to savor his victory.  He was exhausted and strangely enough he felt something wet and syrupy covering the lower half of his body.  His eyes darted around the room for the last troll, but he couldn’t see any more enemies.  Only the scared looking earth pony remained.  The Equestrian had a purple mane and a light orange coat.  She was staring at him with fear and concern.  

“Run!”  Rotnart yelled at the pony.       

The pony turned to do just that.  But instead she hesitated for a moment and quickly came over to the wooden troll’s side.  As gently as she could she rolled the wooden creature over and took a good look at its injuries.  “Oh my sweet merciful Celestia.  I . . . I don’t know what to do with this.  With any of this.”

The troll took a deep breath and winced.  Even breathing was starting to hurt now.  “How bad?”

“You’re covered in bl---  . . . I mean tree sap . . . I think.  It’s coming from a huge hole in your chest.  I, I can see your heart beating.  Oh Celestia your heart is cracked in half . . . if that is your heart.  And your left hand is split in . . .”

“I know, I know,”  Rotnart growled at the poor pony.  “Is the cube still there?”

The pony frowned and looked.  A few seconds later Rotnart felt something leave the palm of his ruined hand.  

The pony wiped off as much of the tree sap as she could before holding it in front of Rotnart’s face “This?” she asked.  

Rotnart turned his neck and his broken heart sank.  The cube had been pulverized with dents, and there was a deep cut running the length of the black box.  The cube flashed and sparked in the pony’s hooves which caused the scared Equestrian to yelp, but she did not drop it.  

“Well f*#k,” Rotnart muttered.  

The pony sat the cube down and frantically began looking around the office building.  “Maybe I can find some wood glue.  Yeah, that should help stop the bleeding.  I mean it’s the least I could do.  I . . .” 

“You want to help me?” asked Rotnart.

The pony nodded eagerly.

“Then take your friends and leave.  My cousins will probably be back any second now.”  The wooden troll gestured with his head to the two dolls still on the floor.  “They’re not gone.  They’re just imprisoned.  If you can get them to the Tree of Harmony when Iarumas is dead, then they can be brought back.”

The pony didn’t move at first but when she did, she did what was asked of her and gathered the dolls to her chest.  “I’ll send for help.  I know where you are and we’ll come get you later.”  Before leaving she said “And thank you.  I’ll remember this.  My name is Su---"

“I don’t care.  Just go,” Rotnart interrupted. 

The earthpony took one last look at the wounded creature before galloping out of a troll-sized hole in the wall.  

When he was finally alone, Rotnart winced in pain as he raised his good arm to grab the ruined cube.  He squinted at the artifact and sighed.  He didn’t know why he was bothering with the computer thing.  Surely Ernest could make another Willie if he lived.  

“If he lived,” Rotnart muttered.  The wood troll lifted his mauled hand that was covering the enormous wound in his chest and grimaced.  The pony was right, he could actually see his ruined heart beating, and it was slowing with each passing breath.  The pain was fading as more and more of what passed for blood left his ruined breast and slowly ran down his stomach.  He did not have long.

Rotnart thought about hurling the cube out the window or underneath a piece of furniture, but it was just as likely to be found by trolls as by ponies.  In desperation he looked through his father’s memories.  He wasn’t sure what he was looking for.   He doubted Trantor would have any information on how to help a dying traitor and a damaged artificial intelligence.  Fighting through a rising tide of fatigue, Rotnart found something that was as interesting as it was disturbing.  Back a thousand years ago when trolls received Sombra’s wood curse, the afflicted were imprisoned below the ground.  After a month, a cursed tree would sprout from the earth, and after six months, the tree would be ready to house the wooden dolls harvested by his kin.  Rotnart shuttered at the revelation.  And if the tribe had needed many trees and none were available, the trolls would dismember the cursed.  Sombra had seeded the frozen north with arms, legs, heads, torsos, toes, and fingers.  Granted the trees were much smaller and took a lot longer to grow but the results were the same.  The trolls had grown entire forests this way.  In one of his father’s memories, he had seen his people disembowel a troll with the wood curse.  Behind the heart was a tiny chamber with small cavities.  The chamber was dormant until the wood troll was planted in the ground.  When the troll became a tree, the chamber would grow and be the incubator where the dolls would be placed.  It was the dolls that made it so the tree would grow more trolls.  But in this case Willie would tap into the magic still in the enchanted wood.  This was the best case scenario, assuming Willie hadn’t been destroyed in the cube.  Rotnart paused to weigh his options.  He had no idea how Willie worked nor did he know much about Sombra’s curse other than the fact that he wished he didn’t have it.  He also didn’t know much about electricity, but he did know a thing or two about magic, and his body was rife with it.  In fact an argument could be made that his body was nothing but magic since he brought down the wood curse upon himself.  How else could Sombra grow his evil forests without magic?  He knew that this might be one hell of a stretch, but weren’t magic and electricity kind of similar?  He had also seen Worrell plug this cube into a very jerry-rigged socket made out of some awfully sketchy metals and wire.  And if Willie could run in those conditions why not in the husk of a magical wood monster?  Rotnart smiled crookedly, coming to his decision.  He whispered, “Maybe I can save one of us.”  With a last burst of effort, Rotnart pushed aside his split heart to reveal the hidden chamber.  With great care Rotnart pushed the cube into one of the five tiny cavities.  Surprisingly the cube lit up with a green pulsating light as soon as it touched the bottom of the indentation.  Rotnart felt an electric warmth enveloping his ruined body.  He smiled and whispered, “By Trantor’s nuts, I think this is going to work.  Give 'em hell, kid.”  After speaking those words Rotnart’s heart stopped beating.      


**************************


Willie’s eyes snapped open in agony like he had never known.  With a swift command of ones and zeroes, he silenced the pain receptors in his new body his dad had built him.  That was odd.  Why had Da given him the ability to feel such torment?  What was going on?  With another command he opened the files contained in the cube.  In an instant he read the history contained within the data packets.  Willie frowned and referenced the built in chronometer in the cube.  Had it only been three minutes since his Da had executed the decoupling commands from the railgun?  After that bit of news there was not much data to go off of.  There had apparently been a catastrophic malfunction with the cube.  In short, the cube that contained his essence had 76% of its outer shell and internals damaged in some way.  Fortunately, his father had overbuilt the cube to withstand physical trauma with multiple data point receptors and redundant backup nano drives.  So if even a tenth of the cube survived, that would be enough to rebuild himself.  However, none of the data he was sifting through explained what had happened during those three minutes he was dormant.  It was time to test out this strange new body.    

The A.I. blinked and his new body stirred.  He sat up and looked down at himself.  What he saw made his curiosity turn to horror.  “Oh my God,”  Willie said with Rotnart’s voice.  So obscene was the site before him he shut off his eyes.  But it was too late; his logic engines were unable to cope with the influx of illogical data.  He was asking a million questions at the same time with no answers.  With his internal processors on the verge of overheating, he rebooted himself.  This did not solve the problem.  He was still in Rotnart’s body when he came back online.  Adapting to this new reality, he dialed back his logic engines to a more primitive setting and slowly began to think.     

 “How am I doing this?  How am I controlling him?  Rotnart isn’t a robot; he’s made of wood, an insulator.  This bloody well isn’t happening through electricity, so what does that leave?  Magic?”  And that’s when it dawned on Willie.  “Rotnart, you genius, you king, you utter bastard.  How did you know that this would work?  I sure as hell didn’t.  How did you know that ones and zeroes could be sent through magic?”  And then another sobering thought struck WIllie. “What happened to you, lad?”

With a thought Willie sent another data query from his battered cube lodged behind the heart of Rotnart.  The command of ones and zeroes flowed through the golem’s body unimpeded despite being made of wood.  In spite of the situation, Rotnart’s/Willie’s lips quirked upwards.  It didn’t matter that wood was an insulator of electricity.  This body was for all intents and purposes made of magic and he could send his commands unimpeded.  In milliseconds the data query reached Rotnart’s brain.  It was ironic.  Not that long ago Willie had been probing this very troll’s brain for information.  Now this same troll had sacrificed himself to save an A.I. built by the man he had wanted to kill.  Life was very strange sometimes.

In an instant Willie watched through Rotnart’s eyes those three minutes he had missed.  He watched how Rotnart had pulled Ernest out of the way of a falling troll carcass before it had landed on him.  His Da probably would have been just fine but Rotnart had saved him a bit of pain there.  He then witnessed his father get captured by a flying troll and how the cube had clattered to the floor of Fort Botswana.  Rotnart had not hesitated when he picked it up.  And at the last Willie watched Rotnart come to his final decision to try and save Willie by merging his body with the cube’s interface.  “Maybe I can save one of us,” he had said.  “By Trantor’s nuts, I think this is going to work.  Give 'em hell, kid.”  

So moved by what his former enemy had done, Willie’s emotion receptors started to overtax their heatsinks.  In his own way Willie was crying in gratitude.  “I will, mate.  I will,” promised the A.I. 

 Stealing himself, Willie took stock of his new body.  The magic in the wood was what was powering the cube.  “Which is how I was able to come out of sleep mode.”  Willie murmured to himself.  And at the cube’s current consumption, he had enough battery to keep going for several hours. Eventually he would convert all the magic in Rotnart’s body to heat, and he would be left with dry wood.  But that was a worry for another time.  His most pressing concern was the battles going on beyond this room.  In fact Willie thought he heard the telltale sounds of a bat-winged troll just beyond the four walls that separated the A.I. from the rest of the world.  Willie calculated the best possible course of action.  The A.I. smiled wickedly as a plan formed in his head.  He settled on laying back down in the exact position the last occupant of this body had left it and waited.                                       


**************************


Hsarc watched from the shadows as the orange pony carried away the two dolls.  He considered finishing what he started and ambushing the opossum.  But decided not to.  What he should do is contact his lieutenants and see how the battle above City Hall was going.  He gave a sideways glance to the north and saw that the struggle was not yet over.  The troll sucked on his teeth until he came to a decision.  Since General Walc was dead, was he now in charge?  If so, Rotnart’s head would make a great trophy and cement his position as the new king.  The flier shuttered.  Just the thought of that wooden abomination sent shivers down his spine.  He still had large splinters in his back and wings where Rotnart had drug him down to earth into that death pit of a house.  He made the right decision to leave as soon as that tree thing killed the General.  But surely the traitor was dead by now.  Hsarc had seen the great chasm in the abomination’s chest and all that tree sap he was bleeding on the ground.      

Still keeping to the shadows, Hsarc dodged and avoided troll and pony alike as he made his way back to where Rotnart’s corpse must be.  Stepping quietly around the pools of steaming troll remains Hsarc grinned as he beheld his prize.  Rotnart was lying in the middle of a huge pool of tree sap.  Both his hands clasped over the grizzly wound in his breast.  Hsarc puzzled over how to separate the traitor’s head from his shoulders.  The flier had some wicked knives on his belt, but he doubted that they would be able to do the deed in a timely manner.  And then his eyes settled on the putrid pile that was all that was left of General Walc, his notched and rusted sword nearby.  Hsarc sketched a mock salute to the remnants and asked, “Mind if I borrow this for a minute, General?”  The flier struggled to pick up the enormous sword.  It was a lot heavier than he thought it was, but it should do the job.  Hsarc dragged the sword over to where the dead traitor lay, rending the carpeted floor as he moved.  The flier stopped and blinked.  He thought he saw something flickering in the troll’s chest, behind Rotnart’s clasped hands. 

He shook his head.  It didn’t matter what it was.  All he had to do was bring down this sword across the traitor’s throat and the deed was done.  And that was when his head started hurting.  “Oh, for Trantor’s sake,” Hsarc said in exasperation.  Dropping the sword the Commander of all winged trolls in Ponyville produced the small mirror he used to commune with his superiors and subordinates.  The troll on the other mirror was his subordinate, Mar.  “What is it?  I’m a bit busy,” snarled Hsarc.

The other flier was nonplussed.  “Sorry, boss.  But what are your orders?  We’ve taken over the skies above City Hall, and the flying opossums are retreating to the hospital.  Should we pursue or should we provide ground support for Avatar Iarumas?  Also you’re the only Commander any troll is able to get a hold of.  According to the ground pounders, General Walc isn’t answering his mirror and General Erif Retihs of the Mages is dead.  And since the Lord Avatar is still fighting the Night Possum in the dream realm, I think that means you’re in charge of everyone, sir.  At least until General Walc is found.  The Spell Slingers and the Ground Pounders are looking to you for orders as well until they can figure out who is in charge.” 

Just like before when the late General Walc had said he was in charge of all the bat trolls in Ponyville, he had been shocked.  And now here he was being told that he was in charge of all the trolls in Ponyville because everyone else was either dead or asleep.  Thinking about being the leader and actually being it were two very different things.  Turning his attention back to Mar he said, “Stand-by,” and abruptly closed the hand mirror.  He had to think.  He had to plan.  First, now that the trolls had aerial superiority over the town, the ponies on the ground were sitting ducks.  He should send a small detachment under Mar to keep an eye on the enemy fliers.  As for the trolls on the ground all they had to do was surround the Lord Avatar and wait for him to explode in demonic fire.  And then that should be that.  Hsarc smiled a toothy grin.  This was too easy.  And he was worried he couldn’t do it.  Hah.  He should have more confidence in himself.

He was about to reopen the mirror to give his orders to his Lieutenant when he felt something push hard into his back.  “Make one wrong move and you’re dead, boyo.”

Hsarc froze as the object was retracted from his back.   

“That was a milk gun that just caressed your bloody hide, and if you don’t do what I say, you’ll be joining your boss in troll Hell.”

Hsarc swallowed audibly.  He thought about taking his knives out of his belt and going mono y mono with his unseen assailant but knew that he might not be quick enough.  If the pony had kept the weapon pinned up against his back he would have tried it.  But now he was not sure how far behind him this horse was.  Not for the first time he wished he had not lost his crossbow earlier in the fighting.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.  You’re going to call back your mate, and you’re going to tell him to pull back the army.  I don’t care how you do it, but you are going to order every troll in Ponyville to withdraw to the Apple Orchards west of town and wait for further instructions.  You have three seconds to comply before I turn you into sludge.  Three . . . Two . . .”

“Okay, okay.  I’ll do it,” said Hsarc.  The bat troll brought up the mirror and unclasped it. “Mar.”  He said into the mirror.  A few seconds later his subordinate’s face was staring back at him.  “Mar, I have received a vision from the Lord Avatar.    He says to redeploy the entire army to the apple orchards west of town and to prepare for a counter attack by opossums from that direction.”

Mar frowned back at his superior.  He had not been expecting those orders.  Hsarc could hear the distorted voices of other trolls from his subordinate’s side of the two-way conversation.  “Sir, begging your pardon.  But are you sure you're interpreting the Lord Avatar’s vision accurately?”

Hsarc could feel nervous acrid sweat pour down his back.  Again he thought about taking on this strange talking assassin that was right behind him.   He didn’t want to betray his people like the arch traitor Rotnart had done, but he also really did not want to die. “Are you questioning the Lord Avatar’s orders, Mar?  He said to redeploy, and by Trantor, that is what you’ll do or you will answer to me, and then you’ll answer to Lord Iarumas.  We are about to be surrounded by these filthy hooved vermin if we stay here in the town.”

The other bat troll shook his head vigorously in contrition.  “No sir, of course we will comply with the order.  But if we leave the great one undefended and the opossums give him love . . .” Mar’s voice trailed off.

Hsarc cleared his throat preparing to deliver another huge lie.  “I wouldn’t worry about that.  Ernest P. Worrell is dead.  General Walc took his head in single combat just before a pony killed him with a cowardly milk weapon.”

Mar’s jaw dropped in shock while several other troll voices exclaimed in shock who were listening in on the conversation.  “The Great Redneck Hope is dead?  This is great news, sir.”

Hsarc nodded, ”Yes, and the opossums don’t have anyone capable of loving the Lord Avatar now.  So we can safely redeploy the army to meet the new Equestrian threat.”

The other bat troll went silent for a moment while the other trolls on Mar’s end conversed.  At last Mar said enthusiastically, “Alright sir, we’ll move the army.”

The new troll leader smiled.  “Trust me, Mar.  Victory is nearly upon us.”    

Hsarc closed the mirror and the voice returned.  “Very good.”

Hsarc felt his bowels turn to water.  The voice was different from the one that he had heard moments ago.  If he hadn’t known any better he would have sworn that it was  . . .  

“Turn and face me,” said the now achingly familiar voice.

Slowly, the terrified bat troll obeyed.  There in front of him was Rotnart.  The golem was a horrifying wreck of splintered wood and dried tree sap.  Hsarc could see the traitor’s split heart oozing treesap out of Rotnart’s chest.    

“But . . . Bu- -,” the bat troll stammered.  “But, you’re dead.”  

Rotnart smiled an unpleasant ugly grin.  “Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

Before the bat troll could react, Rotnart/Willie was moving.  And the last thing Hsarc saw before his world turned black was an enormous wooden fist smashing painfully into his face.      
> Scurvy Bilge Rats
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Earlier

After climbing down the ladder into the sewer system, Scootaloo’s senses were assaulted from every direction.  The stench coming from down here was unlike anything the small pony had ever experienced.  Immediately tears formed and poured from the small pegasus eyes.  So overpowering was the stink she almost didn’t hear Sweetie Belle’s voice from up ahead of her.

“Rimshot!  Rimshot, come back!”

The orange pony heard Rimshot’s diminishing bark bounce off the tunnel walls.

“Scootaloo?  Scootaloo, are you okay?”  Apple Bloom asked.

The little pegasus blinked and wiped her irritated eyes with her hoof.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I’m fine.  I think it’s the sewer gas.  It’s getting to me.”  

“Ya ain’t the only one,” Applebloom muttered.  “This place stinks worse than the pig pens back on the farm.”

“Aye.  That’s the Hydrogen Sulfide ya be smelling,” Pipsqueak said in his pirate persona.  “It not be fatal in small doses, but in large we could be swimming with the fishes.”

Diamond Tiara gave the small foal a glare. “You can drop the pirate gimmick, nerd.  Everypony else here ditched their costumes when this mess started.”

The little pony shrugged.  “Maybe ye should mind your own apple cart, ya scurvy bilge rat.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had to fight very hard not to laugh outright at Pip’s commentary.

“What!?” Diamond Tiara shrieked.  The pink pony whirled around to stare daggers at the upstart pretend pirate.

Apple Bloom carefully worked her way between the two ponies and pushed them away from each other.  The five young Equestrians were standing on a concrete service ledge.  The platform was just wide enough for a normal-sized pony to walk across without having to go swimming in the river of muck.  “Keep it down ya two,” hissed the earth pony.  “If the trolls hear us down here, our gooses are cooked.”

“Hmph.”  Diamond Tiara stuck her snout up in the air.  “Whatever.”  The prissy pony made her way up to where Sweetie Belle stood waiting for the rest of the group to catch up.  The white unicorn was providing enough soft green light for everypony to see where they were going but not anymore than that.  And even what little light Sweetie Belle could produce was tempermental and flakey.  “What happened to that weirdo’s dog?”  asked Diamond Tiara.

“His name is Rimshot,” Sweetie Belle hissed.  None of the little ponies were adjusting well to being in the sewers, but it seemed like the little unicorn was having a worse time than the others.  The smell was messing with her concentration, distracting her so that her magic was not nearly as effective.  “He’s up ahead.  I don’t know why he took off.  He must have smelled something.” 

Diamond Tiara was about to ask how the dog could smell anything besides sewage down here, but then she remembered just how badly a troll actually smelled.  An average troll smelled like fermenting apples that had been sprayed by a rabid skunk.  The pink pony shook her head at the thought.  Nope, it was worse than that.  This theoretical skunk had eaten nothing but limburger cheese for the last year. Diamond Tiara squinted into the dark tunnel, but she couldn’t see a thing outside Sweetie Belle’s tepid light.  

“Y’all hear that?” asked Applebloom.   

The spoiled pony blinked and listened.  A low skittering noise was slowly approaching the group of ponies.  Diamond Tiara gulped.  What was it?  Was it a midget troll? Two midget trolls?  Or worse yet, was it a dirty, disgusting rat?  The pink pony tensed as the rest of her classmates brought up their weapons to bear on the unknown target.  She could feel the ponies in back crowding her to get a better shot at whatever was coming.  Hesitantly she brought up her own tiny water pistol.

“Don’t shoot unless y’all can see something,” whispered Applebloom.

The noise maker paused for a few moments, and all was silent until a new sound was heard.  

“Bark.  Bark.”

Diamond Tiara sighed in relief.  “It’s just the dog.”

“Shhhhhh,” Scootaloo brought a hoof up to her lips, her aim never wavering.  

The pink earth pony gave the pegasus a weird look before remembering that the trolls could mimic any voice they wanted, even dog voices, probably.

The skittering resumed, drawing ever closer.  The group of ponies held their fire until the newcomer was just outside Sweetie Belle’s range of light.

The Crusaders and their allies held their collective breaths as the figure stepped into the sickly green light.  

What emerged was the missing beagle holding something in its muzzle.  Just to be on the safe side Diamond Tiara shot the dog with a couple squirts from her water pistol.  She had expected the Crusaders and Pipsqueak would have a cat over shooting the weirdo’s pet, but no pony said a word.  In fact, she noticed everypony in the party had shot Rimshot at least once with their milk weapons.  The dog did not seem to mind.  He just shook himself dry and padded forward.           

The ponies surrounded the canine.   After several seconds of petting and telling the dog not to go off on his own like that ever again, they noticed the object in Rimshot’s mouth. 

“Whatcha got there, boy?”  Pipsqueak asked.

 The beagle gently laid the unknown item down on the ground and backed away. 

Sweetie Belle brought her horn close to the concrete to get a better look.  Sure enough to everypony's horror, it was a small wooden doll.  

“Is that . . .” Scootaloo trailed off.

“Aye.  That be a Royal Guard,” Pipsqueak finished.  The little foal turned his attention from the fearful expression plastered on the soldier’s face to Rimshot. 

“Where’d ya find this, boy?”

Rimshot gave out a quiet bark and set out back the way he’d just came.

The five ponies followed the beagle down the dark, maze-like tunnels of the sewer until the dog stopped by a large brown puddle of goo.

Diamond Tiara wrinkled her nose.  This was not the first time she’d encounter the remnants of a troll but each time was just as disgusting as the last.  “Gross,” she murmured.  

“What's that over there?” Applebloom asked.  

Sweetie Belle swung her horn over to where her friend was pointing. Not far away from the oily mess of melted troll parts was a standard issue guard pony sword coated in pink yogurt.  A few feet away from the sword were several opened dairy products from the Ponyville General Store. 

Diamond Tiara frowned.  “What’s going on?  Why are guard ponies and trolls fighting down here?”

“If I had to guess, I think this is where Twilight stored a lot of the milk stuff.  The trolls must have found it,” ventured Scootaloo. 

“Guys, over hear,” Sweetie Belle called.  “Check this out.” 

The rest of the ponies and Rimshot followed the little unicorn into a large maintenance room.  The unassuming space had been transformed into a weapons depot for the Equestrian defenders.  Milk, butter, yogurt, even ice cream had been brought down here for the ponies to rearm and reequip their dairy weapons.  

Applebloom’s eyes widened.  “Whoa.  When you’re right, you’re right Scootaloo.  There’s a whole lotta Troll-Be-Gone in here.”

Pipsqueak frowned at the cache of dairy products.  “Aye, but somepony or some troll is eventually going to come back for this stuff.  Let’s take what we can and hoist anchor.”

The five ponies quickly restocked their depleted stocks of dairy weapons.  

While refilling her water pistol Diamond Tiara looked up as if trying to peer past the layers of concrete, earth, and stone above her.  “Do you think Fort Botswana is still holding off the trolls?” 

Sweetie Belle glanced upward.  “I hope so.  If anyone can beat the trolls, it’s Ernest.”

The spoiled pony frowned, “Where did you meet that . . . that . . . human thing?  I’ve never seen anything like Ernest before in my life.”

“We met him in the Everfree Forest close to Zecora’s place,” said Scootaloo.  “We were practicing for Nightmare Night when we saw him and Rimshot trying to fix his truck.  Gosh, I love that thing.  Ernest gave me his truck after we kidnapped him for turning us into . . . uh . . . what’s the word?”

“Freaks,” supplied Sweetie Belle.  “He shouldn’t have taken those enhancement potions from Zecoera.”  The little unicorn sounded bitter at the memory.  But then she brightened, “It all worked out okay though.  He did save us from those timber wolves.”    

Diamond Tiara blinked.  “Okay, this I gotta hear.  How’d he do that?” 

The Crusaders never got to answer Diamond Tiara's question.  Rimshot was standing watch at the room’s entrance growling a throaty warning to the ponies. 

Sweetie Belle throttled the magic coursing through her horn and plunged the room into darkness.  “Hide,” she whispered.  

The five ponies took cover behind the scattered milk crates and dairy boxes found throughout the room.  

“Rimshot.  Rimshot, come here, boy,” coaxed Diamond Tiara.   

 Rimshot growled for a few more heart beats before hunkering down beside the pink pony.  The beagle gave a surprised whimper when a box came down over his head.  

“Shhh,” hissed Diamond Tiara as the two hid underneath their cardboard protection.

Moments later the guttural voices and pounding feet of the trolls could be heard echoing down the sewer tunnels. 


**************************

“Okay, big guy.  Take a right up there by that trash heap, and we should be getting close,” said Rotag ed Eert.  The small troll recalled the location of the captured Equestrian milk cache with ease.  “And mind the lights.  The last swinging lantern on a chain nearly took my head off.”   

“Sorry, sir,” huffed the tree-armored troll.

“Don’t worry about it.  Just be careful.”  From his improvised saddle on the back of the enormous brute, Rotag affectionately slapped the shoulder of this companion.  

Like all of the big troll’s brothers and sisters this beast of a creature was huge, but this monster of a troll was a giant among giants.  In fact he had to duck down and crouch in these tunnels or risk braining himself every few steps with either a rusty pipe or dislocated masonry.  But, unfortunately, the bruiser’s arms were withered, stubby, malformed things that flopped about uselessly. His fingers were no better.  They were more akin to claws than the workable appendages of a true troll.  Rotag ed Eert didn’t have the foggiest idea as to why this particular troll had been birthed with such severe deformities, but the hulk made the perfect vehicle.  He was nearly as tall and muscular as Lord Iarumas but had the intelligence and guile of a bag of hammers.  That was fine with Rotag.  He liked his servants loyal and brave, everything else could be improvised.  The goliath would have gone in the first wave of attackers to soak up the ammunition of Worell’s weapon.  But Rotag had seen a higher value in the massive troll as his bodyguard and transportation rather than as cannon fodder.   

Turning around in his harness, the smaller troll yelled, “We’re almost there!  Drinks are on me tonight, boys. ”

Several yards behind the midget was a bat-winged flier and another spell slinger.  Both trolls were struggling in the sewer tunnels to keep up with their muscle-bound cousin.  The flier was using his wings like another pair of legs, moving a lot like a primate with an eating disorder.  Every so often the troll would let out a brief squawk and adjust course to avoid running into the sewage or his ally.  If Rotag had to guess, it was some sort of radar mechanism located in the troll’s brain.  It was curious that all the bat trolls had excellent vision and could see fine in the dark.  This one though was as blind as the current troll leadership to the army's tactical situation.  Why in Trantor’s name was the army being pulled out of the town?  Even if another Equestrian relief force was coming would it not be better to fight them in the city then in the apple forest?  Rotag shrugged; it wasn’t his call.  But no troll seemed to be in a hurry to destroy the milk stores that the trolls had won with their blood, spit, mucus, and other fluids.  He would be damned if he let the ponies have so much milk back for free.  The bat troll felt the same way and had volunteered to accompany Rotag into the tunnels.  Besides, he had nothing better to do since the rest of his squadmates had been liquified in the final assault on City Hall.      

Rotag turned his attention to the last troll in his entourage.   An obese mage was utilizing his magic abilities to manipulate his gut into becoming as weightless as possible.  Rotag had seen many things in his short life, but the sight of this fat troll huffing and puffing down a sewer ledge made life worth living.  You couldn’t pay for entertainment like that.  That being said, the mage was as dangerous as they came. Rotag saw the spell slinger polymorph a dozen wolves and bears into cockroaches while the army was on the march from the corrupted tree to the town.  The wizard only recently recovered from the expenditure of so much magic at one time.  Rotag had bribed the mage into coming down in the tunnels with him in exchange for promising to teach the other magic user how to conjure chaos magic.  Granted, he had no clue if chaos magic could be taught to a traditional spell slinger, but both he and the mage were willing to try.

Each one of these trolls under his command was a flawed diamond in the rough, but diamonds nonetheless.  And at the end of the day, he was proud to lead this motley crew of misfits.  They also reminded Rotag that he too was far from the idea of a true troll  

Rotag was of that first and cursed generation of trolls that had erupted from the ground to speartip the invasion.  He looked down at himself with disgust.  He was an abomination with his dwarf body, fur coat, and bushy tail. He did not blame Lord Rabuf for his appearance.  His missing master had used what he could to birth the first trolls in Equestria in over a thousand years. In fact he should have been grateful to have been born at all.  What Rabuf did shouldn’t have worked.  It takes five child dolls of the same sentient species to make trolls.  If that wasn’t the case, this whole planet would have been swarming with mutant trolls.  Rotag shook his head and pushed those thoughts away and focused on the task at hand.  They were close to the cache.  

“Okay, Diuqs, slow down.  You see those puddles of troll kin up ahead and all those milk cartons?  That’s our stop.”

“You got it, boss.”

Diuqs slowed his pace and came to a stop just in front of the maintenance hall that kept the milk supplies.  Rotag untied himself from his makeshift saddle and with a snap of his fingers had disappeared and reappeared in a pile of troll filth.

Diuqs laughed heartidly and pointed.  “Boss, look where you’re standing.  You’re standing in . . .”

“I’m standing in one of my cousins.  Yeah, I know.  I should have been paying more attention.”

Seconds later the other two members of the troll exertion force had arrived.  As soon as they stopped, the obese mage fell to his knees and gulped down several lungfuls of air before speaking.  “Sweet Trantor, I thought my heart was going to shart itself back there.”

Rotag smiled at the mage.  “Feeuq, I don’t know what to tell ya.  We literally just ran 100 yards and I feel fine.”

Feeuq pointed a long black fingernail at his diminutive kin.  “You rode this whole way.”

Rotag shrugged.  “I sure did.  And I have to tell ya, it was phenomenal.  Much better than running.  I’m sure Diuqs would have carried you.  Wouldn’t ya Diuqs?”

“No,” said the goliath.  

The furry dwarf smiled.  “Well, apparently not.  Besides, you need the exercise.  Have you seen yourself lately?”

Feeuq puffed himself up even more, leaning heavily on his gnarled staff.  “I told you it’s gas.  It’s Arterial Blood Gas.  It’s a real thing; look it up.  And I have a metric f&*k ton of it in me.  And you said your chaos magic would help fix my condition.”

Rotag bowed slightly to the mage.  “I said I would try, and I’m a troll of my word.  So the sooner we get this job done, the sooner we can start . . . uh . . . what’s the word I'm looking for . . . purging I guess.  That’s the number one idea I’m getting right now.  We’ll see how it goes.”  

Before anyone could make a move towards the tunnel, the bat troll held up a gloved hand.  “Wait.”

The trolls froze in place.  

“What’s up, Ypeep?  Ya smell something?” asked Rotag.

The bat troll inhaled and savoried the aroma.  “I smell ponies.”

Rotag paused.  “You mean, opossums?  We talked about this before coming down here.  We all agreed we’d call them opossums like our lord and savior Rabuf had done.  Trantor bless his black soul.”

Ypeep shrugged, “I’m more of an old testament troll, and I’m telling you that there are ponies around here.  Their scent is fresh.” 

“Fresh meat?” asked Diuqs hopefully.  “I’m starving.”  

Rotag pointed up at his subordinate.  “Diuqs, no.  No, we will not have another incident like we had with that family of skunks.  We’re trolls, not savages.”

The goliath looked down at his feet.  “Sorry, boss.”

Rotag turned his attention to the grounded flier.  “Okay, can you do the shriek and give me a count?”

The lanky troll nodded and gave a short sharp yell into the maintenance room.  After a couple seconds the flier replied, “Four intruders in the center of the hall.  They’re trying to hide but are doing a poor job of it.  They’re small.  Fillies and colts if I had to guess.”

This bit of news caused the other trolls to exclaim in wonder.  It was a miracle that this town had any younglings left in it.  The fact that there were four down here was too good to be true, but at the same time too tempting an opportunity to be ignored.  Rotag pulled at his goatee in thought.  After a moment he smiled and said, “Okay.  I got us a plan.”  He looked up at Feeuq, “I need you to make a flare spell to light up that room.”

Feeuq looked uncomfortable.  “Yeah, but that will put me out of the fight for a good 10 minutes at least.  Also won’t that ruin our night vision too?”

With a snap of Rotag’s clawed fingers four pairs of sunglasses materialized around the faces of the assembled strike force.  “Got ya covered,” Rotag said smugly.  “And don’t worry.  I’m sure the three of us can take care of every opossum in that tunnel.”

Ypeep cracked his neck and then his knuckles in anticipation of the coming fight.  “If I were them, I couldn’t have picked a better spot to hold out against the likes of us,” said Ypeep.  “They know we’re here and they know we’re coming for them.   When this is over, either we come out of that tunnel with four dolls or we’re not coming out.”

Rotag nodded, “You’re preaching to the choir, brother.  Too bad our magic can’t protect us from the utter juice but milk cuts through our magic like piss through snow.  Which is why we’re going to do this quickly.  Feeuq blinds them while the rest of us go in there and doll those four while they’re still blind and disoriented.”  The diminutive troll paused and said, “If any of you have a better idea let me know.  We came here to get rid of this milk cache by any means necessary, but I am not passing up four kid dolls.”

“We could just cause a cave in and bury everything in there,” said Diuqs.  “Come back for the kids later.”

All eyes turned on the enormous troll.  Rotag was impressed with the brute’s thinking.  He had considered that option, but the kids needed to be alive to be of use.  Once the soul left the body there was no point in making dolls.  “That’s not a bad idea, Diuqs.  But those kids in there need to be alive to be valuable.  If we just had one more child, that would be enough to fire up the Tree to make more trolls.  So we can’t kill those kids.  We need them alive and dolled up.”    

The goliath nodded in agreement.  “You got it, boss.”


**************************


Diamond Tiara clung to Rimshot trying in vain to keep his growling under control.  “Quiet, you,” she whispered.  “They’ll hear us with that racket you’re making.”

Moments ago the pink pony had heard at least a few different troll voices outside the tunnel.  She couldn’t actually tell how many trolls were out there.  To be honest, they all kind of sounded similar save for one.  There was a troll out there that sounded a lot like a chipmunk or a squirrel.  She wasn’t surprised by this.  The first wave of trolls that had assaulted Ponyville had been made up of furry, nasty looking midget beast monsters.  She shivered.  In many ways they were worse than the big trolls.  At least you could see the big ones coming.  The little ones could literally appear behind you without warning.  She was kind of surprised there were any of those type of trolls left.  

Rimshot started to squirm and growl again after the trolls were done talking.  

“Be quiet, you mutt.  Do you want to be turned into a doll?  If they know we’re underneath this box, we’re done for.”

That got through to the dog.  The beagle gave a low whimper and sank to the ground.  In spite of the situation, Diamond Tiara felt guilty for making the dog feel bad.  But at least the canine was silent for now.  She closed her eyes and tried to block out the smell of milk-wet mutt, pony crap, and damp cardboard.  It was tough, but after a few seconds of concentration, she heard something.  A cold shiver ran down her back as she recognized the sound.  She had heard it enough last night to have become very familiar with it.  It was the sound of snapping fingers.  The sound a midget troll would make before casting some serious magic.  As quietly as she could, she let go of Rimshot and grabbed her water gun, expecting at any moment the trolls would pick up her box and grab her.  What happened next was far worse.

From underneath her box she heard a loud pop followed swiftly by a blinding light.  Like a lightning strike the light was so bright that it momentarily dispelled the darkness in the pony’s impromptu shelter.   The startled cries and screams of the Cutie Mark Crusaders and Pipsqueak reverberated through the tunnel.

“Ahhh can’t see!” cried, Apple Bloom. 

“They’re here.  Spray and pray!”  answered, Scootaloo.  “They--.” The ponies' voice was abruptly cut off and the sharp short crack of wood dropping on stone filled the air.

Diamond Tiara would have covered her ears to block out the horrifying reality of what was happening outside her cardboard refuge.  But to do that, she would have had to lay down her weapon, and that was something she would not do.

The noise of battle was over almost as suddenly as it started and all was quiet.  From the otherside of the box the high pitched midget troll said something.   And at the crucial moment Rimshot let out a mournful howl of remorse.      


**************************


Rotag, looked around the now silent tunnel and smiled.  In his clawed hands were two dolls that represented the souls of two young ponies.  In the clutches of Ypeep were the other two dolls.  The plan had gone off without a hitch like he had thought it would.  After stowing the dolls in his pack, the small troll produced a green cigar made of nasty smelling leaves rolled in parchment.  He stuck it in his mouth and said,  “Boys, I love it when a plan comes together.” 

From underneath a nearby milk box a loud baying yowl filled the now darkening tunnel.  The raid had been so quick that Feeuq’s flair spell was only now starting to die down. 

The three trolls in the tunnel looked at each other in confusion.   

“What was that?” asked Feeuq from the hall entrance.

Rotag with a snap of his fingers made all the sunglasses disappear.  He chewed on his cigar for a moment before answering.  “Sounded like a dog whose pet person just died.  Diuqs, check it out.”

The enormous troll hesitated.  “Uh, boss.  Don’t dogs bite?  That sounded like a big dog underneath there.”

Rotag sighed.  “You’re a troll, Diuqs.  What the heck can one flea-bitten cur do to you?  I’ll tell ya what.  You did good today.  You can eat it.”

“I can?” asked the huge slab of troll, hopefully.

“Sure, why not?”

Ypeep eyed the box suspiciously.  “Why is there a dog down here?”

Rotag shrugged.  “Who cares.  It probably got lost.  It won’t be around long enough to bother us.  You got the crackers?”   

The blind troll nodded.  The flier reached within his leather armor to produce a pair of small green hexagonal devices.  At the top of the haphazard contraptions were black fuses.  Ypeep tossed the two explosives underhanded to his leader.

Rotag caught the two homemade bombs and eyed them for any obvious defects.  “Ah, the latest in troll R and D.  I’m surprised they didn’t blow up when I caught them.”  Finding nothing wrong, he turned his attention to his mount/bodyguard.  

Diuqs was at the box and was attempting to use his foot to flip it over.  A soft throaty growl was emanating from underneath the box.  Diuqs took a step back in surprise but recovered his courage and again tried to flip over the container. On the fourth attempt he succeeded in getting his enormous fungal-infected toes underneath a corner.  The big monster smiled dumbly at his success.  The deformed troll’s grin soon turned to a frown as he felt something wet and furry slide against his foot.  He started to speak, but soon realized to his horror that everything was becoming taller, and he was getting shorter.   The last thing the troll saw was a little horse in a tiara armed with a water pistol, pushing the box up and away and an angry dog running for his comrades.


**************************


Diamond Tiara didn’t have time to acknowledge that Rim Shot had completely blown their cover and killed a troll with his milk-slick fur.   She couldn’t process what had just happened to Pip and The Crusaders.  The pony didn’t have the luxury to ponder what she should do next.  She didn’t even have time to consider how to survive the next minute.  All she could do was react.  Squinting through the after image of the troll’s sun spell, she brought up her milk gun.  Having just enough light to see, she took aim down the crude plastic sights of the toy at the midget troll with a cigar between its teeth.  Just before she could get a shot off the thing was snapping its furry fingers and was gone.

The pink pony didn’t panic.  She knew exactly where the troll went.  After all, it was after her.  The filly spun on her hooves and turned 180 degrees to fire point blank into the troll’s hate-filled face that was mere inches from her own.  The troll’s head completely dissolved, and its body soon followed. The smell was so bad she nearly vomited into the pile of liquid troll remains.  

Through her sick bleary eyes, she saw Worrell’s dog bring down the flying troll.  The flier had tried to outrun the beagle.  If the troll could have taken to the air he might have gotten away, but since they were underground it was no contest for the small dog.  The troll was screaming madly in every direction until Rimshot sprinted in front of the monster and tripped it.  Having nowhere to go, the winged troll fell into a box full of melting ice cream.  The troll was gone before it realized that it could no longer stand.

Her eyes finally starting to clear, Diamond Tiara looked into the hallway and saw a fat troll trying desperately to flee down the tunnels of the sewer system.  The obese monster couldn’t move faster than a slow jog.  

“You!”  screamed the raging filly.  “Get back here.”  

The troll started and tried to use his magic to decrease the weight of his enormous stomach.  But it was to no avail.  His magic reserves had not yet recovered from the flair spell.  Seeing no other alternative, the robed troll raised his hands above his head in defeat.  “I surrender,” it said in its troll language.  The troll cursed at himself and used what was left of his magic to cast a crude translation spell on his tongue.  “I surrender.”  He breathlessly repeated.  That spell had nearly caused him to black out from exhaustion.  

The pony advanced on the troll with murderous intent.  She glared at the monster for a moment before spitting out the milk pistol.  “Change them back.”

The troll blinked in confusion but did not reply in fear of getting shot.  

Rimshot had appeared.  In his jaws was one of the tiny ponies that the troll’s comrades had transformed. 

The Equestrian pointed at the doll, “Change them back now or I will end you.”

The troll panicked.  “I . . . I.”  Throwing caution to the wind the troll lunged at the pony and dog.  The mage moved like a beached whale.  It only made it forward two steps before Diamond Tiara had reacquired her weapon.  The pony didn’t hesitate to execute the fat wizard and once again the air was filled with the smell of melting troll.

This was the straw that finally broke the pony’s back.  Diamond Tiara vomited onto the sewer floor until she could do nothing but dry heave.  And then the tears came.  Seeing too much too soon had left its mark on the little pony.  She had never really liked the Crusaders or Pipsqueak, but they did not deserve to be turned into dolls.  Neither had her father.  What had Ponyville done to deserve the attention of these monsters, she wondered to herself.  She cried until a soft, warm tongue was licking her face.  Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself hugging the little dog.  She buried her face in the wet dog's fur and sobbed repeatedly, all the while Rimshot gently licked the back of the fily's neck in sympathy.  After what seemed like many hours, Diamond Tiara patted the dog one final time.  “You’re a good boy, Rimshot.  I’m sorry for all the times I called you those names.”  She paused, “I don’t know what to do now. It’s too dark down here, and I don’t know the way to the school from down here.”

Rimshot gave an enthusiastic bark before going back in the tunnel.  Diamond Tiara heard the sounds of the little canine rummaging around in some kind of metal cabinet.  Eventually Rimshot returned with a plastic cylindrical object in his jaws.  The dog nudged the pony with the item when he arrived back by the pony’s side.  

“A flashlight!”  the pony exclaimed.  “You’re a smart dog.  Comeon, let’s get the others.”

With the aid of the grease-covered flashlight, Diamond Tiara and Rimshot collected the dolls that represented Pipsqueak, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Applebloom.  Applebloom and Scootaloo’s dolls were the hardest to find.  The pair eventually found the tiny figurines in a small leather backpack that was located in the same spot where Diamond Tiara had killed the midget troll.  While looking for the wooden figures, the pair found two strange-looking contraptions with fuses.  “Do you know what these are, Rimshot?” asked the pony.  Rimshot shook his head.  “They look like goofy bombs.  I guess the trolls were going to bury the milk in this room until they found us,” ventured the pink Equestrian gloomily.  “Maybe we can use these later.”  

After finding all of the dolls and the explosives, the filly located an intact plastic crate.  It was large and bulky for her, but she had no great way to carry four dolls, her milk gun, and two homemade grenades.  She would just have to drag the box behind her.  She stared down at the quartet of wooden figures and said, “When this is over, you four are going to owe me some big favors.”

From across the room Rimshot gave a short sharp bark.  Immediately Diamond Tiara flashed her light in his direction.  “What is it, boy?”  The pony slowly walked over to the dog, avoiding the multiple puddles of troll goo.  The beagle was pointing with his nose up towards the wall.  The pony followed the dog’s gaze.  The filly’s eyes widened.  “Is that what I think it is?”

Rimshot barked in agreement.    

Taped to the stone wall of the room was a large old rotting map of the Ponyville sewer system.  It was covered in oil and mold and one of the corners was missing, but it was detailed.  The dog and pony studied the map for a while before Diamond Tiara pointed up at it.  “Okay.  That arrow on that side says ‘You are here.’ So that means if we follow those pipes there . . .  then maybe . . . Yeah.”  The filly's voice rose in excitement.  “You see that, Rimshot?  It says ‘Outflow from Ponyville Schoolhouse.  I think if we follow those pipes, we’ll find the school.  And then we can make that love poison.”  The little pony’s face fell.  “I think I remember the recipe . . . I hope.”