> What's With the Hook? > by CP Benedict > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Exposition > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- WHAT'S WITH THE HOOK? by CP Benedict EXPOSITION SPEAKING TO YOU FROM PONYVILLE, EQUESTRIA, it’s my honor to thank you all for the support you give the program portraying our city and how we Equestrians live. I’ve been able to catch a few episodes in my leisure time, and I must say I’m impressed. There have been interpretations of us in the past, but our image didn’t leave a very respectable impression to the media, and we’ve been portrayed as an overly happy, dead-eyed, and mostly female race; naturally, we were offended back then, and some ponies out there still are, but what the show we all know now has to offer outweighs that misdeed to our culture infinitely. This show takes place during the Battle for Harmony, when I was a little school colt. It portrays the lives of most of Equestria's citizens and how they grew up, using their likenesses in actors and actresses. Our princesses, the ponies who fought in the Battle for Harmony, and the little dragon who became one the princess’s royal guard are some of the largest characters they chose to focus on. Mostly true stories, just romanticized a bit. There are, of course, a few differences in the show from what really happened. Sometimes the characters were a little different from how they really were. For example, I remember an episode where one of them had this weird tick whenever some kind of “doozie” or something was about to happen, like a super-sense of some sort. Also, that episode about the dark hero-type-thing was actually based on an infamous sighting of a similar looking creature that may or may not have slaughtered some of the cows of Sweet Apple Acres, but that's another story. I understand that it’s not meant to be historically accurate, but here and there, especially in the first season, they’ve made some perplexing choices. I bring that up because, I’ve worried that the studio would change what might possibly be the most interesting story that’s happened in my city. In case something should happen in production, I would like to share with you what really happened. This story involves my old schoolmates. Before I begin, in case you’re reading this and are not familiar with the show, let me explain a huge part of our kind called Cutie Marks (Strange name, I know, but paramount nevertheless). When a colt or filly discovers what only belongs to them, makes them different from everypony, and what they will have all of their lives, a distinct symbol, that is a Cutie Mark, appears on their hind leg. For instance, if a pony’s purpose in life was to practice science, their Cutie Mark could be a beaker or an atomic symbol, or if your purpose was to be a professional flyer, your Cutie Mark could be a pair of wings. The story I’d like to share with you is how my schoolmates earned there Cutie Marks. You may be wondering why these ones in particular are so special compared to others, but those of you reading this that are fans of the TV adaptation may already know whom I’m talking about, because they have pretty big roles in it. I myself have made a few short appearances; you might remember me as the “too young” pony, one episode had a musical sequence about Hearts and Hooves Day, there's a little colt, playing an arcade game that's supposed to be a young me from back then, I appeared onscreen on the line, “this one’s too young.” I don’t exactly remember what I was too young for, but whatever it was, I’m sure it’s no problem now. Getting back on track, these three mares were as follows: Sweetie Belle, a comical, yet polite Unicorn whose parents, at the time, were away on sabbatical; so for a while, she was living with her sister, who was a dress designer, so she always had to look nice when she went anywhere; anyone who could have a relative like that, and act the way she did must have some significance, right? But who am I to talk, I know nothing of her sister besides the fact that she fought in the Battle for Harmony, I can't imagine what she would've done, though. Most times when Sweetie thought she had the chance to introduce any of her friends to her, she was always too busy franticly designing a dress. Sweetie had an almost reflective, white coat, and big, green, beady eyes. Unicorns, as mostly everypony knows are the magical type of Equestrians, using an enchanting aura from their horns to help them with everyday essentials, and the more highly trained ones can perform magic spells of countless varieties. Over the years, more advanced unicorn magic has mainly been used for art and combat. Scootaloo, who was a Pegasus, sadly has a physical disorder in her wings, keeping her from flying, so she couldn’t feel that wide freedom other Pegasi felt as easily as she should have. On top of that, she lost her parents as a foal, leaving her with no one for her to look up to, not even the orphanage treated her very well. The only one who has ever come close to a parental figure was her friend, Rainbow Dash. Now her, I know a great deal about; she also fought in the Battle for Harmony, representing the Spirit of Loyalty. She later became a member of the world famous Wonderbolts, as she still remains to this day, ranked as a Senior Flyer, and one of their finest. Scootaloo may have had a constant enjoyment of the world, but her times with the one mare she can look up to were rather few, and felt like a miracle to her each time they got the chance. However, despite all of that, she made the best of it with her adventurous nature; she’d always ride around on her scooter after school, it took the town a while to get used to it, needless to say. She was blithely the roughest pony in the gang; her eyes always had a determined and concentrated look when she rode her scooter around Ponyville. Her coat had a fiery, golden glow as if she always enjoyed life to the greatest extremes. Apple Bloom was neither a Pegasus, nor a Unicorn, but what they call an Earth Pony (which is what I am). That doesn’t seem very special, but in actuality, they have the greatest strength amongst the three types. She lived on an old farm called Sweet Apple Acres, and was an excitable little filly who worked hard at her job, helping her family work around the farm. Like Scootaloo, she too lost her parents as a foal, but she still had her older sister, Apple Jack, who was also a Harmony Warrior, her half-brother, Big Macintosh, and her Granny Smith to take care of her. I’d always see her with an innocent, emboldened look in her face at school. Being a member of the Apple family, her coat and mane were in colors that made you think of apples. In her case, she had a dark, red mane that curtained her light yellow coat, like how an apple’s red skin covers its bright yellow core. Like everyone else in the Apple family, she had that respectable, but relaxed, twang in her voice. Top it all off with a giant, pink bow, and that’s the Apple Bloom I remember. My Celestia, has is it been that long since I’ve seen them? They were the only fillies in our class without their Cutie Marks, so they started a little club called the Cutie Mark Crusaders. They would always go to some outrageous apogees to find their talents, as if they were something to be physically searched for. I remember when they sang their theme song in a talent show, and they abrasively won for “best comedy act.” Then one day, despite all of the struggle and pain they went through, executed wonderfully in the show, may I add, they finally saw the biggest and most unique marks on their very legs, and, to say the least, the experience they went through to get their reward changed their lives just the same. > Singing Foal 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- BOOK I SINGING FOAL CHAPTER1 It was in the middle of July, and just as warm and sunny as you’d think it would be at that time of year. Our sun goddess, Celestia, always has her specials ways of controlling that one star she felt been fit to warm our world. Summers always seem to be her best semesters, as well as her sister’s. The moon goddess, Luna, takes control of the moon, hoof-crafted from the mountains of Canterlot. The moon reflected the sun’s light in a white, firmament glow, so the night would be as pleasing to the eye as the day. Sweetie Belle especially adored days like this, especially seeing it was on that day that one of her musical idols, the late radio personality, Chestnut Drone, was coming to the Annual Ponyville Fare to perform his live sketch show that’s been advertised for a few months. His usual shtick was taking whatever props he can find at home, whatever shape or size it may be, and make whatever music he could make with them, It sounded like a witty idea to me, but a lot of people saw it as just him playing with trash. This was one of those times of the day where I am personally drawn to the sky; the reddish sun slowly drifted from our sight, the sky was being poured a the purple shade, making a beautiful contrast with the sun, a perfect scenery for an outdoor stage performance. I wasn’t surprised to see Sweetie Belle up in the first row of conveniently placed stools. It wasn’t the biggest crowd you’d ever seen, but it wasn’t disappointing either, bigger than most crowds at a fare, that is. The minute finally came when the upbeat, old Earth Pony trotted up onto the stage, which had a burgundy curtain set behind it. His coat was brown like the mahogany of an old-school radio, he wore a dark blue jacket, and had a Cutie Mark of a boom mic. They started to watch in confusion as Chestnut Drone slowly set two large pots on the stage, with a very deadpan look on his face, as if he had no clue of what to do with them. I assumed he must have been growing tired, I mean he was well into his 60s. But then, before we could interpret it as feasible movement, the old horse jumped onto the pots. He quickly opened his mouth, and yelled in a raspy, yet charming voice, “Hey there, everypony!” The response was more clamorous than I expected. “This is Chestnut Drone from WHR…” (Wild Horse Radio) ”…seeing all your lovely faces at last!” The buoyant stallion then pressed his hooves onto the pots, and quickly slammed them together under his belly, and then pushing them both back to where they were so that the sound wave wouldn’t be muffled. He repeated this five times, and it was obvious that he realized ponies wouldn’t react fondly to that, so immediately after the fifth bang, he made a fake weepy face. “Wasn't that just wonderful?!" he exaggeratingly blubbered with joy. "Back in my day, this was music," He continued in a sarcastic tone, "Just five bangs of steel pans and we were all in heaven," He then chuckled a bit, I guess to confirm that it was a joke, I heard some light chuckles in the crowd in response. "But really, don’t you worry," the stallion said in a kind, promising voice "old Chestnut’s just gettin' warmed up!” We couldn’t help but snicker when we caught two ponies wrapped in clothing with colors that blend in with the curtain wheeling a huge set up of what appeared to be a rack with different sizes of pans, pipes, and springs hanging on rows protruding from a ten-foot-tall wall, there were also small balls set above every item on the wall. Chestnut grabbed a yellow ball from his suit pocket and threw it towards the top left-hoof corner of the wall; the ball hit a conveniently placed plate on that part of the wall, rolled down the row, and landed on the first pan, making a noise with an audible musical note to it. The next ball was somehow triggered to drop, and go through the first ball’s same process. That ball, as you’d guess, landed onto the pan next to the first one, but since it was smaller than the first one, the sound from the impact of that pan was higher in pitch as well. As the pattern continued, the notes of the rest of the pans contrasted each other to sound like an upbeat tune. Chestnut slammed his pots once again in the rhythm of the beat, as well as stomping on the tops of them for a wider variety of sound. I started to think to myself, “This is the ‘trash’ everypony’s talking about?” Of course, being the first time seeing such a large production value, I was very impressed with what I saw. The song then came to an end as the note from the last spring faded out. There was quite an applause from the audience, me included. “I think I’d like to give youns a little something from back in my day!” Chestnut Drone said in a calming voice after the applause ceased. A large harp wheeled across the stage, only to have Chestnut stop it in his tracks, budging him slightly. We could tell by the way he talked and how his expression came through that he’s been waiting to give us this segment and it meant a whole lot to him. Chestnut then positioned himself comfortably for playing his harp. “Hopefully, some of you will be remotely familiar with this one,” he said, teasingly, knowing that not a lot of younger ponies would know the song he was preparing. As the song began, I noticed Sweetie Belle gasp with joy, as I could tell she recognized the melody almost instantly. It was “Galloping in the Open”, a song written around fifty years before. Sweetie Belle opened her mouth, wanting to sing along, but then her shyness got the best of her, and she closed it right away, I could notice her ears starting to droop, probably because she wanted to make the wise, old stallion performing for us proud, but couldn’t just because of her doubts in herself. As the second verse came around, we could almost hear a mysterious, high voice from the back row in the audience. It was singing in the tune of the song being played for us; and it gradually got louder, practically echoing in our heads. It was a strange combination of soothing and unworldly. It was like what you would hear from a futuristic machine with a personality. As the voice became clear, Sweetie Belle’s perked back up and her eyes popped in a fraction of a second. We all followed the voice to see who (or what) could produce it. Our attention was gravitated towards a small, lambent yellow coated Pegasus colt, wearing a coonskin cap. He was gently moving his muzzle, letting out his strange hums; it was kind of bazar to hear a voice coming out of a colt who, by the looks of him, couldn’t have been any more than seven years old. The smooth croons from the colt flowing over the strums of Chestnut's harp made the sound very warm and relaxing. Chestnut, smiling the most solacing grin I’ve seen in my days, humbly finished his song, letting the mane-raising pipes from the pint-sized colt work along with him. The song came to a breathtaking finish, and all hooves in the audience uttered intense thunderclaps that could be heard outside of the fare grounds. As the applause started to diminish, so that he could be heard, Chestnut stepped forward, and pointed towards the spot in the audience the singing foal was, and called out. “Hey there!” “Who me?” asked the same colt in a loud voice. Chestnut chuckled, “Yeah, you. Who else?” “Well, I’m sorry if I interrupted you, sir, but I couldn’t help but…” “’Interrupt?!’ Son, you got me the biggest applause I’ve had in 20 years!” Chestnut said, in a delightfully baffled voice. “What’s your name?” The colt paused half a second, but quickly regained his manners. “Icarus,” he answered. “How old are you?” asked Chestnut. “I’m twelve,” Icarus answered. Chestnut and everypony in the audience gasped in surprise, for a colt with rosy cheeks and legs too short for his hooves to reach the ground from his stool entering is teenage years seemed ridiculous yet revolutionary. Also, his speaking voice sounded nothing like his singing voice. It seemed like with every syllable he annunciated, he opened his mouth wide. “Would you like to come up here, and sing my next tune?” Chestnut asked encouragingly. “I’m sorry Mr. Drone, but I got to go to the shop and work late hours, now.” Icarus said sadly, but still determined to get his job done. “But thanks for the offer!” Icarus then trotted off towards the entrance. Some of us tried to spot what his Cutie Mark was out of curiosity, but we couldn't see a mark of any sort, some were confused of how somepony could have a singing voice such as his, and not have a Cutie Mark. After we watched him go about half way out of our sight, we all turned back to Chestnut. He looked a little disappointed that he couldn’t have that young colt perform with him, but he tried his best to conclude his show. Meanwhile, I noticed Sweetie Belle still watching the Pegasus colt leave the fare to his job, and I could even see her pondering. I think she may have wondered if she could see him again anytime soon. > Singing Foal 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 2 It's been a few months since my last post, and before we begin chapter 2 of Singing Foal, I just want to explain why. Upon working my day job, I've been in Canterlot for a few weeks. It was Princess Twilight Sparkle's wedding day recently, and she invited all of Ponyville. After that, we had a two week stay-in at Canterlot. While I was there, I came across some old friends. Including the same three mares I was in the middle of writing about; isn't that convenient. I didn't meet them all at once thought, which was rather odd, because if you knew these three as fillies, they were almost never seen without any of them missing. I met Sweetie Bell at Twilight's wedding reception. We talked a little about what's been going on since we graduated. I told her about how I've spent the last few years writing stories, and how I plan to get them published soon. She told me about how she's pursuing in a singing career. We talked a little about how the show has portrayed her, and she seemed pretty indifferent to being portrayed by child star, "Cotton Cloud." Shortly after, Sweetie Bell reintroduced me to her sister, Rarity. I'm just going to say right now, I take back what I said about her in the first entry. If you don't recall, here's what I said: "Sweetie Bell has a dress designer for a sister, anypony who can have a relative like that and act the she did must have some significance." I'll admit, that was harsh and judgmental. Rarity is a sweet, loving mare with a heart of gold, and she did, indeed, fight in the Battle of Harmony, representing the Spirit of Generosity; something, from just her outer presentation, I never would have associated her with, and I apologize greatly to anypony who knew Rarity personally, or even any history buff who was offended by the previous remark. Instead of one always looking up to the other, it was pretty surreal to see them both standing next to each other at almost the same height. I debated on whether or not I should've told them I was writing a story about her and her friends, and how they got their Cutie Marks. It took a while until I finally built up the gumption to do so. When I did, Rarity gave a fascinated smile. Sweetie Bell, on the other hoof, gasped quietly. I was a little nervous to what she was going to say, and whether or not she would approve of that. Then, she gave a nostalgic smile with her eyes watering a little. She then asked if we could see each other after the reception. I was hesitant to what she was going to tell me. Did I get too personal with her? But nevertheless, after we did some dancing and ate some cake, I met Sweetie Bell and Rarity outside, near the fountain. I heard Sweetie Bell blubber to her sister, "I know, I just miss them so much." I stammered by them at the fountain, worried I'd be bothering them, but when they noticed me, they both smiled, as if looking forward to tell me what really happened. Sweetie Bell stepped forward, and here is where we continue her story. Sweetie Belle trotted along home after the show ended; she and her sister lived in a large, carousel-shaped boutique. She hoped that Rarity, who would commonly be slaving over her sewing machine, mannequins, jewels, and other such, would have enough time to talk with her before she fell asleep in the designing room again. Luckily, Rarity was more than happy to be talking with anyone after all the work she’s been doing. Similar to how they portray her in the show. (You see, Crystal Clarity, the mare who plays Rarity in the show, was one of the first to figure out that portraying her or anypony as just a fashion-obsessed wench would be what the old minstrel shows would do. She knew the characters needed a more relatable feel.) Back on track: Sweetie Belle confidently asked her sister if she knew anypony named Icarus. She wanted to find out as much as she could about this “Singing Foal”, as that seemed like the perfect nickname for somepony just as mysterious. “I’m terribly sorry, darling, but I’ve never heard of such a name.” Rarity said, sympathetically. “You’ll have to ask Pinkie Pie sometime tomorrow, we both know that she knows everypony in Ponyville.” And that, she did. Pinkie Pie was one of the youngest Harmony Warriors, representing the Spirit of Laughter for her deep passion to bring joy to even the most miserable of ponies. Sweetie Belle was disappointed to have to wait so long, but she simply agreed, for she didn’t want risk making things difficult already, as they have done in the past. Sweetie then went up to her bedroom and crawled into her bed, hoping she wouldn’t grow more curious about the Singing Foal, which of course was all in vein. Questions kept coming to Sweetie, “How in Equestria can that little colt be twelve years old? How come I’ve never seen him before? In fact, what kind of name is Icarus?” The more questions she asked herself, the more discouraged she felt. But the one question that frustrated her the most was, “Why couldn’t I be that brave?” I could only assume she was referring to her being too timid to sing at the fare. She couldn't help but let all of the times she backed away from any opportunity to sing slither into her memory. Sweetie dozed off with the colt's voice remaining constant in her mind. She felt she could use those tones in her head to lull herself to a good night's sleep, but with every question she subconsciously raised, the more the tone of the voice in her head warped lower in pitch. By the time the question concerning her most reentered her mind, the tune sounded very somber, like the choir you would hear at a funeral. She dreamed of the colt singing for Chestnut Drone's funeral, which she dreaded would occur in the near future. She is watching the event from the back seat, remaining completely silent. She was thinking she should be sad, but she felt suspended in the position she's been staying in since she got in bed. By the time her mind started to take full notice of that... she was back in her warm sheets. The next morning, Sweetie woke up bright and early, eager to greet the previously mentioned, Pinkie Pie. She hurried down to the kitchen, and fixed herself a small cup of OJ. Upon finishing her drink, Sweetie was relieved to find her sister walking into the kitchen, so she didn’t have to redundantly try to wake her up in the designing room, which she has done many times before. She wanted to get out into the bright blue dawn as soon as possible, now all she had to do was ask politely, and she was free. Must be nice not having to startle someone in their sleep and then wait until they can understand you once in a while. Sweetie scampered out the door and wandered around the neighborhood in search of her friend, Pinkie Pie. Pinkie was an excitable, social young mare, always smiling, always twinkling in her eye, and always making sure anypony has a good time. As stated before, Pinkie knew everypony in Ponyville (literally everypony). She’d have to know someone as peculiar as this Singing Foal. Successfully, she tried one of her and her friends’ favorite joint, Sugar Cube Corner. She saw, not only Pinkie Pie, but her two best friends, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. “Howdy, Sweetie!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. Sweetie was confused why only Apple Bloom and Scootaloo would be with Pinkie Pie at Sugar Cube Corner, but before she could ask what was going on, Pinkie quickly blurted out the explanation. (Also, I should mention that when I said that this “tick” I said was fictional belonged to the character of Pinkie Pie in the show, I should’ve realized that it was inspired by the real Pinkie’s ability to know everypony’s problem by will. Pinkie in the show was played by actress, Pepper Zing, and she insisted on adding a little more of a sense of absurdity to this plotline to further fit the character, which I guess works out alright. By the way, don’t worry. There won’t be too many comparisons to the show. Onward!) “You’re trying to find some cute little colt who sings like an angel, and you really want to see how he can stand in front of so many other ponies without messing up once, which I think I get the subtle feeling you might be afraid of, but that a bunch of silly-willy because you're AWESOME!!!" Pinkie screamed into Sweetie's face, causing her mane fly back and conveniently shape back to the way it was. “She knew you were gonna come look for her here and she invited us.” said Scootaloo. She then gave Sweetie with a sneaky look, “So, who is this cute colt?” “Uhh, his name's Icarus.” Sweetie answered insecurely. “WHAT?!” yelled both Apple and Scootaloo, surprised. “You know him?!” Sweetie Belle asked anxiously. Apple Bloom answered, “No, but that kid works here late at naht.” “Yeah, isn’t he kinda young to be working a job, let alone like way passed his bedtime?” There have been a few fillies and colts who have left Sugar Cube Corner close enough to closing hours to come across the night workers as they began their shifts. Sweetie was quick to correct her, “Well, did you know that he’s almost a teenager?” “Yer kiddin', raht?” Apple Bloom asked, giving a beguiled smile. “He’s so small, he looks lahk a li'l foal.” Pinkie informed, “No he’s not, he'll be thirteen this Fall! He and his family just moved here a month ago. They came from a teeny-tiny village called Saddatevka. I tried throwing a party to welcome them to Ponyville..." as Pinkie would often do with newcomers, "but for some reason, they wanted me to 'stay healthy' I mean, I probably wasn't planning on eating all the food there." she mumbled on "probably." I've heard the phrase "stay healthy" before, and I'm guessing the times that I've heard it had the same connotation as when it was delivered to Pinkie. It's a way of telling somepony to keep their sanity together. I would say that's a pretty nasty thing to say to the Warrior of Laughter, but Icarus's family at the time was adamant about no-nonsense attitudes and I'm sure they could handle any of Pinkie's parties anyway. Oh, who am I kidding? That was horrid! "But either way, they didn't want a party." Pinkie appeared sad for a split second and then immediately continued her exposition in her previous manner. "Icarus is pretty shy because he’s so little, but I think he’s just adorable!” She’d always like to blab out as much information as possible about ponies she knew. Sweetie quickly asked, “Do you know where they live?” “They live in a HUGE house about half a mile north of here.” Pinkie answered. “Have you ever heard him sing?” Sweetie asked. Pinkie answered “No” in a gloomy tone, but then quickly continued in her usual jumpy resonance, “but if you say he sings like an angel, it must be true.” Sweetie uncomfortably asked, “Why do you say that?” “Oh, I’ve heard you sing your little theme song before, you sound…” Pinkie then remembered that she wasn’t supposed to let her know that she’s heard her sing before. She then rapidly shouted, “I’m coming Dashie!” creating an agitation to avoid explaining herself, and then thundered out the exit. She knew that Sweetie didn’t want anyone to hear her sing, but if Pinkie heard anything secret, she heard it for a reason. > Singing Foal 3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 3 “Ooookaaay.” Scootaloo uttered (like a slide-whistle) in response to Pinkie Pie’s odd commotion. “So ya gon' meet him anytahm?” Apple Bloom asked Sweetie Belle. Sweetie Belle determinedly answered, “You bet! I’m going to come back here tonight! I want to know all about this colt!” Apple Bloom and Scootaloo gave a slightly concerned look. Sweetie Belle noticed the expression they gave, and assumed that they were concerned about her meeting some strange pony. She would have said something about judging people before you meet them, but she was the last one to start an unpleasant conversation, as a statement like that probably would. “But he works here durin' the closin' hours, yer prob'ly not gon' to be allowed in here then.” Apple Bloom remarked. Sweetie then realized that that was what made them look uneasy; that she was thinking of just breaking into Sugar Cube Corner while they’re closed. “Look,” Scootaloo started a suggestion, “we can all go down to his house and you can meet him right now.” Sweetie Belle’s tummy hurt from hearing that. She distinctly remembered Pinkie Pie describing his house and emphasizing the word “huge.” She had a hard time keeping herself together meeting someone in a normal-sized home, let alone one that someone would call huge. But she restored her thoughts of getting to know the little colt that melted everyone’s heart at the fare last night. Beforehand, those thoughts were an annoyance to Sweetie, then they made for a choice motivation. “You know, that’s not a bad idea!” Sweetie said bravely. Although she felt that it seemed a tad out of left field to talk in a tone like that, when to the others, it wasn’t that big of a deal. (Come to think of it, they seem to talk like that in the TV adaptation a lot.) The trio exited out the door, where the day was busier and more stuff was going on, in search of the huge house up north. Scootaloo quickly asked, “So which way’s north?” Apple Bloom pointed her hoof to the northern side of Ponyville with a smile. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo looked rattled at Apple Bloom. “And…” Sweetie began, “how do you know that?” she asked, sounding less like a “how” “when” or “who” question, and more like asking permission for something. Apple explained, “Well, it’s early now, and that means the sun’s in the east,” she pointed to the sun, “and the shadow of Sugar Cube Corner is facin' over there to the west.” she pointed, “Now that we know where west and east are, we know where north and south are too. So, north is over there.” she pointed in the same direction as the first time as she gasped for breath after a lengthy bit of explanation for a filly. Scootaloo and Sweetie looked impressed as they trotted north. Scootaloo asked her how she knew that, with Apple responding, “Granny Smith.” And that’s all she needed to say. Apple and Scootaloo were feeling pretty exhausted after the first minute of running, but Sweetie Belle was darting far ahead, which is strange, because usually that’s usually Scootaloo’s position. After around five minutes, the trio noticed an exceptionally large house in a line of smaller houses, it wasn’t as big as the Castle of Canterlot they’ve visited per se, but it was still a sight to see such a large structure present itself as a neighboring house. As they darted closer and closer, Sweetie continued to ask herself those perplexing questions to come over her fear of meeting somepony. Each step made the process more and more difficult as the house seemed to grow larger as they ran towards it. They noticed a set of steps by the front door, and started to slow down until they finally stopped. “Go on.” said Apple Bloom. “Yeah, we’re right behind you.” Scootaloo added. Sweetie understood that her friends really wanted to help her, and that she should feel better with them right behind her, but her shyness got the best of that feeling. She slowly ascended the stairs… 1… clip clop 2… clip clop 3… clip clop 4… clip clop 5… clip clop 6… clip clop 7… clip… “I’m tellin’ ya!” Sweetie stopped at the sound of a familiar crackling voice echo through the big door at the top of the steps. “Your colt can really go places!” She felt that should be a sign to turn back and not disturb anypony’s conversation, but she quickly decided that she could just politely knock on the door, and if anything important was happening, it could have been she didn’t hear anything from outside (just something to let herself enter the house of the Singing Foal). She ran up the rest of the way. 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15! She raised her hoof, looked back to see that Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were still watching her from the bottom, turned back to the door, and… Suddenly, the door opens inward, with none other than Chestnut Drone coming out the door, looking distraught. Sweetie gasped in excitement both to see one of her heroes face to face and that he’s heard Icarus’s pipes before and could be of some help. “Chestnut Drone!” Sweetie exclaimed. With a gaping smile, she looked back down to a dumbfounded Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. They didn’t listen to the radio that much, so they hardly knew who Chestnut Drone was. Sweetie contentedly introduced herself. “Mr. Drone, my name’s Sweetie Belle. I just want to let you know that I’m a huge fan!” Chestnut warmly replied, “Thanks, I’ve been hopin’ for some good news within the next decade.” Sweetie chuckled and then passionately asked, “Is Icarus home?” Chestnut sighed and answered, “Yeah, but whatever you do, don’t ask him to come on tour at Manehattan with you and YOUR choir group.” which he presumably did. Chestnut meant for that to be another joke (also a reposing way to vent his frustration), but that really made him realize how sovereign and unsettling of a question that is to ask a colt as he walked down the steps. Sweetie Belle then felt like she was going up against a real challenge. She wondered if Icarus would even want to talk with her. Nonetheless, she knocked on the door while it was still open. She heard a rather sarcastic sounding female voice, “Hold on, I’m comin’!” A mare with a beige coat, a yellow, messy mane, a white nightshirt, and Cutie Mark of two large flowers, coated in various shades of red trotted through a doorway in the house on Sweetie’s left. The mare turned towards the front door, walked up to Sweetie and said as if she was really frustrated, “Can I help you today?” Sweetie was pretty disturbed by the tone of the mare before her, but she earnestly asked while still trying to keep a decent smile, “Are you Icarus’s mother?” The mare looked overjoyed, “Oh, you wanna play with our little pumpkin?! Well, come on in!” Sweetie couldn’t tell whether or not she was being sarcastic from the way she spoke. Icarus’s mother wrapped her hoof around Sweetie and pulled her in the house. She didn’t even have the time to look back and see what her friends at the bottom were doing. The mother dragged Sweetie through the doorway she came through and into the kitchen, and all at once, before Sweetie even realized it, she was finally standing face to face with the same colt that won the hearts of all the ponies at the fare last night, the same colt who held her spellbound for the last 12 hours, the same colt who caught the attention of the great Chestnut Drone, the “Singing Foal” himself, Icarus. He was then looking at Sweetie Belle with his big, turquoise eyes. She was hypnotized by how much of a difference it was from looking at him from the side. > Singing Foal 4 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 4 Sweetie Belle and Icarus were silent for a few seconds; Sweetie gazing upon the raiser of the many questions she’s asked herself all of last night. She went through a quick yet immense rapture that she is now facing what might be the solution. He still had on his coonskin cap indoors, but his dark blue mane revealed itself in a fluff at the bottom. Sweetie looked for his Cutie Mark, and still found nothing. Sweetie’s attention towards Icarus was broken by a loud complaint from the mother. “Icky, honey, I can understand that you wouldn’t want to leave home,” she started discerningly, then continued in an impatient tone, “but can you at least try to make friends? Why don’t you say hello?” Icarus greeted Sweetie Belle the way a serviceman would greet a customer, “Hello, my name is Icarus.” He looked at his mother for a split second, to be presented with a gesture prompting him to continue. After taking a second or two to put together his conversation starter. “What’s your name?” naturally seemed like the most appropriate, so that was what he went with. Sweetie ignored Icarus’s stiff delivery, and was ecstatic to introduce herself, “Hi Icarus, my name’s Sweetie Belle.” Sweetie’s squeaky, innocent sounding voice was enough to force the faces Icarus and his mother into smiles. Icarus was moved enough to continue the conversation, “I take it your from around here, right?” he intriguingly asked. Sweetie answered, “Actually, I moved here from Fillydelphia about three years ago.” “Is that so? Just a few weeks ago, we stopped at hotel there when we were moving from Saddatevka.” “You don’t say. What’s that place like?” It was at that point where Icarus’s mother was effervescent to witness her son finally getting to know another young pony, and it seemed to be going pretty well. Icarus answered Sweetie’s question, “Oh, it’s pretty different from Ponyville. It’s a lot smaller and the architecture’s pretty different.” “Really?” responded Sweetie, trying to stay interesting, “Fillydelphia’s a lot bigger than Ponyville, so…” she continued as if improvising a line, “I guess we both have to get used to the size of the city.” Icarus giggled and added, “Yeah, it’s like I shrunk and you grew!” All three ponies in the kitchen burst out in laughter, which echoed through the hall. The laughter ceased to have Icarus asking Sweetie, “So, what do you like to do? For fun, you know?” “Oh, I usually hang out with my friends in our clubhouse.” Sweetie answered, followed by her asking, “How about you?” expecting an answer involving music, her smile grew as the time drew nearer to having her questions answered. “I just like to do crossword puzzles and stuff like that in the morning, other than that, I just work.” Sweetie’s smile slowly deteriorated. It took a moment for her to build up the nerve to ask him, “But, don’t you like singing? I heard you singing at the fare last night.” Icarus’s mother stepped in, and whispered to Sweetie, atoning for Icarus. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. Icarus is really a wonderful singer, but for some reason, he just doesn’t realize that.” She then turned her head to Icarus with a saddened look. “Mamma,” Icarus replied, having read his mother’s lips in her whispers, “if I were a wonderful singer, I’d have a Cutie Mark.” He sounded somewhat distressed. Without her realizing it, that remark from Icarus gave Sweetie Belle an answer to her problem. The mother responded in an unfulfilled tone, “You don’t have a Cutie Mark, because you never use your gift, like I’ve told you a hundred times.” She then sounded contrite towards Sweetie, “I’m very sorry, I don’t want this to become an argument.” “It’s alright,” Sweetie replied, “I understand what he means.” She was feeling humiliated for her lack of a Cutie Mark at that point, even though she felt she could sing alright. Icarus was either trying to think of how to reply to his mother’s statement or waiting for any additions to it. He finally added, “I’ll admit, it is fun to sing, but I’m really no good at it.” “What are you talking about?!” Sweetie asked astonishingly, walking closer towards Icarus, “You were good enough to have Chestnut Drone himself ask you to perform with him… Twice!” “And embarrass myself in front of…” Icarus was interrupted by his mother’s nervous change in subject. “Honey!” she complainingly yapped, then continued in a more benevolent volume, “Why don’t you two go outside, and we talk this over some other time.” “I agree.” Sweetie remarked seriously, but advantageously. “Yeah… but I…” Icarus stammered, proceeded by a sigh, “Okay.” Sweetie’s next goal went from learning from the colt to trying to help him. Icarus dropped down from the stool and walked towards the doorway, with Sweetie following him. Before exiting, “Oh, by the way,” Icarus began, “did you find out when Papa will be home?” His mother sadly answered, “He won’t be home until 9:30 again.” Icarus’s ears drooped, for he began his work shift at 9:00, when Sugar Cube Corner closes, it’s been the same way shortly after they moved. His mother lowered her head down to his level, looked into his eyes, and softly said, “I know you miss seeing him, but now’s not the time to worry about that. Someone wants to be your friend for once, and I recommend you take advantage of that, because this is your chance to make a lot of friends. We want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.” They both gave a sentimental smile, followed by a hug. “Go out and have fun!” “Yes Mamma.” Icarus replied, leading Sweetie Belle out the door. As they went through the front door, Icarus quickly said, “I’m sorry about what happened in there, I didn’t want to sound mean or anything.” Sweetie replied, “That’s okay.” Icarus continued, “I mean, you seem like a nice young filly.” “Thanks.” Sweetie charmingly replied. Icarus turned towards the bottom of the staircase leading outside, and noticed Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. “Are those your friends down there?” Sweetie nodded as they both continued down the stairs. Sweetie didn’t want to upset Icarus by broaching his musical skills to her friends in front of him, so she wondered how she should properly introduce him. Apple Bloom exclaimed, “Well, it sure took ya long enough.” Scootaloo whispered to Apple, “How in Equestria is he almost a teenager?” to have Apple nudge her foreleg embarrassingly. “Ow, just asking.” Being a young Earth Pony, she didn’t quite know her own strength. “It’s okay.” Icarus responded, “I get that I’m short.” He didn’t sound at all ashamed of it. “I wouldn’t want to be taller anyway.” Sweetie Belle felt Icarus deserved a proper introduction, also in hopes that what would come next would help him allow himself to crack another funny joke, and maybe her friends would want to get to know him. “Fellow Crusaders…” that part had Icarus rather puzzled, “this is Icarus.” she heralded. “A pleasure to meet you both.” Icarus said as if reading off a script, extending a hoof. Apple Bloom welcomingly introduced herself, shaking his hoof, she turned her head to Scootaloo, but she stiffly stared at Icarus, presumably dumbfounded by how small he was for his age. Though, she was able to regain her good form, and introduce herself as well, but she neglected to shake his hoof. Fortunately for her, he didn’t seem to mind. Sweetie Belle walked beside her friends, and said, “Fillies, I think we should leave it up to Icarus what we’re going to do next.” It was hard to tell whether or not Icarus felt welcomed, as was intended. “Oh, I don’t think you’d be interested in anything I’d want to do,” Icarus modestly said “but I’m sure you can think of something fun.” My hunch for the reason of saying that is that Icarus wanted to know what fillies and colts do for fun, seeing he was raised as a hard worker in Saddatevka. Apple Bloom started, “Well, we could, uh…” she then steered the question to Scootaloo, to which she replied with a shrug. Sweetie Belle found her mind going blank as well. This was one of the rare times where the three fillies opened themselves to other young ponies, and at this point, they haven’t quite gotten the hang of it. During the Crusader’s pondering, Icarus has been doing some hard thinking himself. He let a minute pass until he turned to Sweetie, and said, “I know what to do.” The three fillies looked at him curiously, as if expecting him to be the last one to suggest something fun to do. Icarus trotted forward, gesturing to the Crusaders that they follow him. After noticing Icarus from the back, Scootaloo leaned towards Sweetie Belle and forcefully whispered, “He doesn’t even have a Cutie Mark?!” Sweetie hushed her, and sorely whispered, “Neither do you.” Icarus led the Crusaders towards a small, brick house with a wooden door. “Hey, ain’t that the home of Old Stallion Tapioca?” Apple Bloom nervously asked. Scootaloo added, “He’s been dead since before our grandparents moved to Ponyville!” Old Stallion Tapioca has been a subject of many, many legends. Most ponies say that he never left this house from the day the oldest of ponies still alive came to Ponyville. When he died of natural causes, it was the first time most ponies have ever heard of him. If you were growing up at around that time, and if you asked any kid about the old house, they would say that the ghost of Old Stallion Tapioca still wanders in his house all alone, just as he did in life. The house isn't there anymore, but to this day, it remains the longest standing building in Equestrian history. Icarus approached the house, looking towards Sweetie, gave a confiding smile and a wink. He pressed his hoof against the door, and sent it flying open. > Singing Foal 5 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 5 As soon as Icarus flung open the door, the Crusaders gasped in fear of what was inside. Icarus walked in the door, and gestured to the three fillies that they follow him. They looked at Icarus as if he was about to do something crazy or even dangerous, but nevertheless, they apprehensively followed Icarus through the door. They were greeted by a mostly empty space, very little furniture, and nothing hanging on the walls. Icarus walked over to the only spot in the house with a cluster of items, including a few desks grouped together side-by-side, large stacks of paper, a quill dipped in a small bottle of ink, and black, tattered, leather cases in various shapes under the desks. Off to the side of the desk setup was a dark brown record player with a large, bronze cone, and in pretty well shape despite its age. Icarus’s wooden presence became enthusiastic as he turned to the Crusaders, but he tried to sound serene when he said, “So, any of you into music, by any chance?” Sweetie Belle’s eyes glistened and her whole face lit up as she gasped in excitement. “You mean all of this is…” she started, only to have the question answered by Icarus nodding. She started jumping up and down, the other ponies in the small house watching in bewilderment. “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!! I KNEW IT!!!” she shouted in a squeaky, merry tone. She then darted over to Icarus, and stared at what she saw as the answer to every single question she ever asked. Icarus was, at first, startled by Sweetie’s radical action, but after a second or two of staring back at her, he couldn’t help but chuckle with joy of feeling flattered. “Thought you’d want to know for sure, though.” Sweetie looked over to her friends to find them both staring, confused of what exactly is going on. However, she was too quick to dash over to Icarus’s little music studio to take note of that. She looked through the stacks of paper to find pieces of music written down on them, she assured that she had never heard of any of the songs written before asking, “Did you write these songs?” Icarus modestly responded, “More or less attempted to.” Sweetie then looked under the desks to find the black cases, which, judging by the shapes of them, could only be assumed to contain musical instruments. She pointed her hoof towards them and springily asked, “And you play instruments?!” Icarus humbly answered, “Well, mostly the trumpet.” He then reached for the small leather box, containing said trumpet. With him unlatching the locks, Sweetie noticed her friends walking closer towards them. Being made of old brass, the trumpet didn’t stand out much from the casing surrounding it, but it wasn’t dirty or even too bad in shape for it be played either. Icarus walked over to the record player, and gave the top of it a single swipe with his hoof to give it a decent dusting. At that point, Sweetie Belle has never seen a record player before, and has always wanted to. He then opened the cabinet near the bottom, revealing a selection of records, then he tugged out a tinted record sleeve with barely visible text and a faded image of a portly stallion playing a trumpet. “Do ya know ‘Baltimare Blues?’” he asked Sweetie Belle, presenting the record, but he slowly began to lower it, coming to a quick realization, and started to say “You probably don’t.” “I love that one! I’m a huge Fats Wheeler fan!” Sweetie exclaimed. “Alright then!” Icarus joyfully agreed. He set the record onto the turntable, and set down the needle, amplifying the cosmic sound of the needle swabbing against the vinyl. He hurried towards the case holding the trumpet, and quickly assembled the design, with a few seconds to spare before the first note emitted from the cone. The piece began with two high chords on a piano, followed by a light wave of trumpets lowering in a minor tie, which Icarus joined in with his, blending just as well in with the recording. A voice coming from the recording called out, “Morning Cob!” which Icarus uttered in unison, facing the record player as if it were another performer, followed by another voice calling, “Good mornin’ Fats!” Sweetie giggled with charm. A series of percussion taps followed, which progressively got faster until it reached the tempo of a song you’d dance to at a party. It then proceeded with a vigorous rhythm, circulated by the many different sounds of the brass instruments played. Icarus gracefully played along to the number, shaking to the beat, Sweetie Belle danced along with him. When the first lyric approached, Icarus took a breath and commenced in the energetic vocals. He sounded diverse from his slow, soothing tones of last night, being more lively and jumpier. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo finally got their share of the majesty of the pipes of the Singing Foal, and it sure caught them by surprise. After Icarus finished the first verse, the second verse was sung by the second singer in the recording. Sweetie stepped in, feeling a warm, wild intensity quickly building up in her chest, waiting to finally be set free. She burst out in a jolt of timbre, like the sound of a personified oboe or a swan. It was quite an excitement for Apple Bloom and Scootaloo to be revealed the talent their long-time friend has hidden all these years. Icarus toothily smiled, wildly impressed by Sweetie’s vocals, as the second verse reached the transition to the instrumental break. Icarus played along with the trumpet solo and even improvised some of his own techniques by springing the tune higher. The break ended with a high, raspy blast from both the trumpet in the recording and from Icarus. Icarus and Sweetie both bellowed out the last verse of the song in a stunning harmony, and they both ended with a flawless fade. They were greeted with cheers and applause from Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. “That was amazin’!” Apple Bloom cried. “Yeah! You two should perform on stage or something!” Sweetie giggled and tentatively said, “Aww, thanks you guys.” She then widened her eyes as if in realization, turned to Icarus and said, “But wait. There’s one thing I don’t understand.” Icarus looked towards Sweetie, preparing to answer any question. “Don’t you think your mom would be proud to see you play music like this?” Icarus appeared skeptical to tell Sweetie why he would hide his talents from everyone and not be proud of them, despite the fact that he has all of the equipment in this little house and clearly has a good time doing it. He then decided that as the only one he knows can appreciate what he has to offer, she deserves to know. He quietly said “Don’t tell anypony, but this stuff isn’t mine.” The Crusaders jumped in shock, but before they could jump to any conclusions, Icarus continued, “Apparently, this place has been abandoned for years." “Funny you should say that,” Scootaloo began, “everypony says that this place is haunted or something.” Icarus quickly said, “Well, if there are ghosts in here, I appreciate that they share their music with me.” He then turned his head up into his right and said, “Isn’t that right, Mr. Ghostlything?” The crusaders guffawed at that sudden blurt of wit. Sweetie was overjoyed that he was able to show his comical side for her friends this time. Icarus continued, “Anyway, when we lived in Saddatevka, my papa and I sang for festivals, holidays, and stuff like that, and I really grew attached to him over the years. But when my family and I moved to Ponyville, we both had to take jobs. Unfortunately, he ended up with a twelve-hour job and I ended up with a night job, so when I'm home, he's working and when I'm working he's at home." He lowered his head upon repeating that desolating facts, but quickly perked back up to continue his story, "But one night, on my way home from work, I noticed that this little house never had the lights on, and…” he hesitated before the rest of his explanation, “I kind of checked to see if anyone lived here, I mean it wasn’t too late, so I wasn’t afraid of waking anypony up, and my folks would be asleep by the time I came home anyway. There was nothing in here except everything around us, no furniture, no beds, no nothin’, so I figured nopony lived here. However, all of this seemed right up my alley. I know this isn’t right, but I’ve been sneaking in here every night after work, this way, no one can hear me from outside.” Sweetie gave a distressed look to the ground, and said, “I know how you feel there, I love singing when I’m alone, but when I’m out in public, I get so scared, I wouldn’t even sing a note. I remember when I had a chance to sing at a talent show, but I just ended up making the costumes.” Icarus replied, “That must bite.” They both gave a shameful sigh. Apple Bloom, stepped in, giving a smile that was obviously trying to make the two feel better, and said “You just sang for us.” Scootaloo added, “And it was incredible!” Icarus and Sweetie gave a look at themselves, reminding themselves that they are the ones responsible for somepony make that statement. Apple Bloom continued, “Wouldn’t ya want to have other ponies hear that too, instead of keepin' it all to yerself in this old, abandoned house?” Icarus and Sweetie were silent for a moment, looking around the house, Icarus started to see it as the prison he set himself and his talent in, and Sweetie saw it as the disposal she was about to throw away her passion into. Icarus broke the silence by saying “She’s right.” Sweetie added, “Yes, but what can we do?” Scootaloo timidly started, “I don’t want to act like I have the answer to everything, but…” she suggested “maybe you can think of how it made us feel?” As much as Scootaloo doubted that advice, Icarus and Sweetie pondered, as if analyzing what she suggested. After Icarus restored the trumpet and record, the two smiled at each other, with Sweetie saying, “I guess we could try.” Icarus added, “What have we got to lose, anyway?” He put a spring into that question, trying not to sound cynical. “Well, it’s getting late, I have to get ready for work.” Sweetie frowned and her ears drooped, saying nothing more than, “Okay.” With all four ponies exiting the house, Icarus turned towards the direction of his house, but Scootaloo called out to him, “Wait!” she continued with a friendly look, “Before you go, I still owe you something.” She then extended her hoof, allowing Icarus to shake it, something she should have done upon meeting him. Icarus gave a heartfelt smile, and said to all three Crusaders, “It was really nice meeting you all. We’ll see each other again, right?” Apple Bloom joyfully twanged, “You bet yer apples we will!” Sweetie Belle walked up to Icarus, still frowning, and looked into his eyes with Icarus looking into hers. “Thank you.” she cooed. Icarus made an exaggerated expression of jolliness and put a gleeful spring into his response “No problem.” Sweetie’s frown instantly disappeared as she giggled at Icarus’ merry, comical delivery. “When we see each other again, would it be okay if we did some more music?” she asked tensely. “You can count on it!” Icarus said as he trotted home, leaving the Crusaders with a little spark of color they would’ve needed on an otherwise tedious day. > Singing Foal 6 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 6 Your aptness, the very center of your pride, is just as prudent as a living being, and you must treat it as such. Let it journey into the endless wonders to make the world happy or let it suffer the cold, lonely confinement of your own boundaries… Your choice. That’s the tenet Rarity learned from her parents before she decided to unravel her talent for clothing art, it’s since become embodied with her nature. She’s been wanting to repeat that quote to Sweetie Belle when she ever caught a hint of anything she thought she’d go beyond in. It was on the day after we last left our heroine. When she came home from her lively experience with her new friend, Rarity was sleeping on the couch, on account of she got up early that morning to work on a special dress and needed a long, long rest. She didn’t want to disturb her sister’s “beauty sleep”, so she wound up informing her sister about her new obsession the next morning, when they were both awake (for once in a while). It was one of the few, yet treasured times Sweetie and her sister shared a sentimental moment together, one of those rare times when they were able to help each other. I say this now because I encourage all of you to take this sagacious advice. Throughout my life, I’ve encountered many ponies and even other creatures who have “stated the fact” that they have given up hope all because nearly nopony they knew would ever take what they have to say or anything they want to do with their lives seriously, and therefore, they feel that nothing they have to offer is anything, and leave everything that makes them what they are as living beings alone to writhe. I’ve always hated the fact that I never had the wisdom or even the appropriate words to help them. Now I say to you, the reader, as I scrawl my very words, I exhilarate that whatever you have to offer anyone, whether it’s a groundbreaking phenomenon or even a simple magic trick, share it with the world, because you will find what makes this thing you have special. You are going to make the world happy. You all matter a great deal. And Rarity, if you ever read this, thank you. Now let’s keep on truckin’ with this story. Sweetie Belle and Rarity were just finishing their breakfast, consisting of gourmet pancakes coated in warm butter and maple syrup with smoked bacon, when suddenly, Pinkie Pie barged through the entrance doors, dashing to the breakfast table as if she were skiing on ice. “No time to explain! Kidnapping you!” she shouted as she nabbed Sweetie Belle and darted back through the door. “What the heck, PinkIIIEEE?!” Sweetie tried to make Pinkie aware of her dissatisfaction. Pinkie simply ignored her and dropped her to the ground, throwing off Sweetie’s speech. They were quite a distance away from the boutique, maybe a mile or two, in what may have been ten seconds. “You two stay here!” Pinkie ordered ominously, facing opposite of Sweetie, she was surprised to find a nervous Icarus and a frustrated Chestnut Drone of all ponies trying to get away from Celestia knows what Pinkie was planning and stopping dead in their tracks with shocked expressions in response Pinkie’s intimidation. Pinkie then zoomed right in front of the two, pathetically trying to appear like a drill sergeant, she shouted “You, Chestnut Drone, were about to perform at the Hackamore Festival in Manehattan, and it was going to be your biggest gig in years.” She continued as if interrogating him. “Is that true?!” Chestnut unpleasantly responded, “Yes.” It was odd to hear such a short response out of a normally lively and talkative stallion. Pinkie continued “And is it also true that just last night, it turned out they stole a lot of the set pieces from another festival that happened in Las Pegasus.” That was actually quite a big scandal that rapidly went viral at the time. “Now the whole thing’s cancelled. Your big break is gone for good, and everything you thought you was going to return to you is destroyed, the cheers, the applause, the music, everything! Right?!” Pinkie made sure he swallowed every grim detail. The more Pinkie talked, the more irritated Chestnut became. In a bizarre fit of anger, he snapped back at Pinkie, “RIGHT!!! I already have my own memory to remind me of everything I don’t have, I don’t need some smartass filly to break into my apartment, kidnap me, and read everything back to me!” Pinkie quietly responded to the answer to her question, ignoring everything else he said, “’Right?’ “WRONG!!!!” Pinkie roared immediately after her soft repeat, overwhelming the weight of Chestnut’s rant in two words. “You’re talking to Pinkamena Diane Pie” she proudly announced herself, “the Warrior of Laughter. I can easily set another tour for you here in Ponyville. Much bigger than you ever dreamed.” she boasted, getting into Chestnut’s face. “Because you, my friends, still have plenty more to live for.” Chestnut pushed her away and scoffed, “Yeah sure, now can I call the cops?” Pinkie responded, “I’d say ‘Harmony Warrior’ is a bit of a step above ‘cop’ don’t you think?” “You’re serious right now?” Chestnut bitterly responded. “No, I’m Pinkie Pie.” She then gestured toward Icarus on his left, “And I know you’ve also been wanting to have this gem perform with you.” Icarus looked terrified, either at the hint of being forced out of his comfort zone, which he knew was about to happen sooner or later, or just at Pinkie’s inauspicious approach to get him out of it. He was also real frustrated, he really liked Sweetie Belle and wanted nothing more than to keep being her friend, and he hated that this was the fourth time they’ve gotten in an awkward situation together in just two encounters. Pinkie shifted over in front of Icarus and lowered her head to her level, he backed up a bit, clinching his teeth. “And you, Icarus of Saddatevka, have been given a gift from Celestia to win the hearts of millions, yet you choose not to use it. Why exactly is that?” Upon hearing that, Sweetie instantly reflected on the advice her sister just gave her. The fear on Icarus’s face slowly subsided, he stared into the nothingness, leaving Pinkie’s question to linger in his mind. He never answered the question, but apparently Pinkie didn’t need an answer, and his reaction was all she needed, because she swiftly turned towards Sweetie with a more eager and caring look than she gave the other two. “Same goes to you. You don’t think anypony knows you like to sing?” She asked, trying to give Sweetie a reality check. Sweetie was shocked at the reveal of her privacy being invaded, but she listened to what Pinkie had to say nonetheless. “Let me tell you, you’re lucky I heard you singing your song, you’re lucky you had someone to admire you, and it really bothers me that you won’t sing it again.” she exclaimed with her voice choking up, “Seriously, that’s like my favorite song now!” Even though Sweetie’s emotions towards the situation changed drastically, her expression made little to no change. There was practically a minute of silence. Chestnut looked to both Icarus and Sweetie and finally began to contemplate Pinkie’s speeches, as corny as they sounded to him at first. He wanted to find a way to enlighten the two young gems along with Pinkie, whom, from how he viewed her relationship with her friend, Sweetie, he started thinking she deserved a better treatment than what he’s just presented her with. By quietly clearing his throat, he tried to gradually break the silence. He then gave a curious yet friendly look towards Sweetie Belle. “Hmm… So you do singin’ too, huh?” Sweetie, without realizing it, ignored that fact that she’s dreaded being asked a question like that and looked up at her hero. She opened her eyes wide and quietly squeaked, “Mm-hmm…” but then continued, looking more embarrassed, “well, only a little actually.” “Oh really?” Chestnut replied, “What kind of singin’?” Icarus thought of advertising Sweetie’s talent she revealed in the old hut, but stopped after he took his breath to blurt out everything. He later told Sweetie he stopped for two reasons: one is that he didn’t want to ruin the flow of Sweetie’s redemption and just let the grown-up take care of it, and the other is that if he told anyone about her revealing her talent to someone she just met, instead of someone like Pinkie Pie, who’s clearly more caring for her and treats her like a true friend more than he could have ever treated anyone, it would destroy a really beautiful bond. So he just let the process move along. “Well, I like a lot of jazz and show tunes.” Sweetie replied less shyly. “No kiddin’!” Chestnut chuckled and joyfully continued “Who do you like? Dandy? Fats? Or how ‘bout Cino?” He then proceeded to hum the bassline to one of his biggest hits, “Kick Ya Downstairs.” In which Sweetie immediately joined in, singing the words. With Icarus’s spirits lifted back up as well, he proceeded to sing the harmony. I’ve heard this song before, and it’s got a real hot beat, so I can imagine how amazed Pinkie and Chestnut were to hear these two miracles croon this thing. When telling me this, Sweetie said that singing aloud outside in the clean air was much more rewarding than singing in her bedroom or a crummy old hut, because it made her feel healthier. At that moment, the four ponies standing in that spot had the biggest smiles to be grown on their faces in a long time, even Pinkie’s casual jolliness couldn’t compare. When they all settled down, Pinkie dismissed the two young ones. “Alright you two, run along and have fun. Chestnut and I have a huge gig to plan out.” She continued with her voice becoming more hint-like towards the end, “We’ll just need to sort out the budget, structure the set, hire a few performers…” Sweetie and Icarus gasped and quickly pleaded in unison, “Can we be in the show, pleeeeease?” Pinkie and Chestnut chuckled. “I was hoping you’d ask! Two cute little angels: check!” Pinkie cheered. For the rest of the day and many, many days after, Icarus joined Sweetie Belle and the rest of the Crusaders in several activities, they got something sweet at Sugar Cube Corner, played on Applejack’s farm, and even enjoyed relaxing under the sky. However, with the show quickly coming together, Icarus and Sweetie became busier and busier with practicing their routines and consulting with Pinkie and Chestnut, the managers.