Pinkamena Diane Pie: Element of Harmony, hero, writer, poet, coffee shop employee. Unfortunately, sometimes the first two can cause problems with the last part. Sure, "saving Equestria from certain disaster" is a great excuse for being late, but it does nothing to sooth cranky ponies who want their coffee and donuts. This sometimes leaves Pinkamena -- and her boss -- in a position of choice. Is a threat immediate and dangerous enough that Pinkamena has to deal with it, can somepony else handle it, or can it wait until she finishes her shift?
When a familiar threat appears that nopony other than she recognizes, it is up to her to figure out how to deal with a crisis she knows is coming while also keeping up with business.
There's a saying that goes "it is always darkest before the dawn." From a poetic and philosophical standpoint, it was a wonderful saying that made quite a bit of sense. When life was at its darkest, its scariest, and when hope was at its lowest, the faintest light, the slightest chance of a change for the better, can seem like a beacon and set of a series of events leading to a brand new day.
As a poet (and hero, although she did not really think of herself as such), Pinkamena Diane Pie was rather fond of the statement. After all, she had seen herself how valuable hope could be and how one pony (or six) could make a difference. Conversely, having been up before dawn -- both from staying up all night and from getting up incredibly early -- Pinkamena knew for a fact that it was a complete and total lie. From her experience, it was always darkest whenever the accursed alarm clock woke her up. Although in this case, that did happen to be before dawn.
With a groan, Pinkamena turned off her alarm clock and began her morning routine: contemplate if the world would end if she went back to sleep (possible, but not very likely); contemplate if her job would end if she went back to sleep (also possible, and far more likely); contemplate if it would be worth getting fired to sleep in a little longer (no, she liked her job and her boss); finally accept the inevitable truth of the matter and get up, even if the blankets were still warm and inviting; take a quick, cold shower to help wake her up; brush teeth; brush mane; fiddle with that one really weird lock that always seemed to want to be curly despite the rest of her mane being perfectly straight: get dressed; feed Gummy (she still could not find anypony who could explain why the pet store even stocked canned alligator food to begin with); take the long way for work -- which was out the back, around the block and in through the front instead of simply using the indoor staircase that let her directly into the coffee shop.
Walking through town to work during the pre-dawn hours was always a fascinating for the somber pink earth pony. It was always so cool, calm, and quiet. Moments where everything seemed calm and safe always felt so fleeting. At least recently. Granted, new threats did not seem to emerge everyday to threaten to destroy the town... or the world... or all of time and space... or at least perform massive property damage... maybe cause an inter-kingdom incident...
Anyway, that was all the more reason to enjoy moments like now, where everything seemed safe, sound, calm and quiet. More so since it would soon be disturbed by other ponies getting ready for their day.
Returning to Bean There, Done That, Pinkamena pushed the door open, listening to the sound of the bell as she entered. Her boss was already behind the counter, working to get the baked goods ready for the first customers.
"Joe," she said, getting a grunt in response. Mugga Joe never really seemed to be very talkative first thing in the morning. It had never actually been discussed, but Pinkamena got the impression that Joe was not really what would be considered a morning pony. Perhaps that was why he had decided to open a coffee shop: needing such to help himself get started in the morning, Joe understood the desire for something to help wake up and get moving in the mornings. Coffee seemed like a better idea than a griffon attack or rampaging ursa. It also seemed safer to property and cheaper.
Stepping behind the counter, Pinkamena got to work on the morning set-up with practiced ease: grind the beans; place grinds in filter; place filter in machine; turn on water; turn on machine; move to the next; repeat as necessary. It was so routine, she barely even have to think about it. Before she had even finished going through them all, the first machine had already finished and was ready for the customers to begin.
Well, almost.
Pinkamena grabbed two mugs and filled them from the first machine. One cup was passed to her boss, who took a sip, held it in his mouth a moment, then gave a nod and gulped down the rest of it less than a second. Having it meet Joe's satisfaction, Pinkamena took a drink of her own cup.
It was interesting to her how Joe was able to drink fresh hot coffee so quickly without any signs of discomfort. Several of the other employees asked him about it when they first saw him do it. So far, explanations have included: using a cooling spell on his mouth and throat so it would not scald him (which would make sense, except his horn is not glowing with magic); being part dragon, and thus immune to the heat of coffee (less possible, and not very probable, but Pinkamena could not rule it out entirely. Plus, it would have to be extremely far back in his ancestry since -- before Spike was born -- no dragon had been seen in Equestria in Celestia knows how long, literally); and -- what seemed to be his favorite -- taking a magical fireballs directly to the open mouth when he was a soldier, making it so he could no longer feel heat in his mouth or throat (which was the most entertaining story, but the least likely since there would also be burn marks and a loss of the ability to taste). Pinkamena had listened to the stories, and made notes about each of them, but never openly contradicted him.
"Time to open for the day," Joe announced as he walked to the machine and refill his cup (this one he would drink at a much slower pace between orders). His horn glowed with magic as he took a hold of the sign, turning it around to open.
Almost as soon as the sign was turned around, the bell rang, announcing the arrival of their first customer. Had Pinkamena been smiling, it would have vanished at the sight of the arrival.
He was by no means the worst customer, but he was still one of the more unpleasant ones. Never actually rude, but sometimes it seemed like just barely. Never seemed to tip, even though he could well afford it. He did always pay his tab on time, but he always seemed to make it some sort of grand magnanimous gesture for which they should be grateful.
Were she a more malicious or vindictive pony, Pinkamena would be more overtly antagonistic toward him. Nothing extensive or obviously cruel: simply pretend to forget his name or that she had no idea who he was. No one else would really think much of it, but he was such as he enjoyed the power and authority that came with having his name known and how prominent he was in Ponyville. The simple act of not acknowledging such would infuriate him, but also leave him incapable of overt retaliation. Or she could simply call him by his first name. Not only was he not entirely fond of it, but the associated concept of equality would likely ire him as well.
Alas, such was not the way of Pinkamena Diane Pie. Taking her position at the counter, she waited for him to approach.
"Welcome to Bean There, Done That," she said in her most professional tone. "What can I get for you?"
Pinkamena sat by one of the windows at the coffee shop, enjoying her break between heavy customer flows. On one side of her sat a plate with an alfalfa, spinach, and garlic cream cheese bagel sandwich. On the other was a small notepad and pencil with was various ideas and lines for poems, epics, plays, and even a possible song. She looked over the lines of her most recent poem.
And lo, fierce battle was then made, through the use of words instead of blade. For while blood may not have connected each other, she would protect as fiercely as any mother. In her, their faith they did place, so for them, any danger she would face.
Still not quite right, she thought, giving a shake of her head. Setting the pencil down, she turned away from the pad to clear her mind of the issue and enjoy her meal. She took another bite of her sandwich, her gaze focusing on the street outside. Sometimes just observing others going about their business helped. Between Ponyville being a small town and the popularity of Bean There, Done That, she knew most of them by sight, even if not by name.
As she continued to eat and observe a group more familiar to Pinkamena -- seeing as she called one of them friend (a title she deemed on others rarely) and another was pretty much one of a kind -- came into view.
Rarity walked along, her son Spike on her back. Following not far behind was Rarity's sister, carrying a picnic basket in a similar fashion. The young unicorn's ears were pinned back as she followed, glaring ahead. The other two seemed oblivious to the angry look in their direction. Spike was grinning widely, holding something like a blue ball and talking excitedly. To Pinkamena, it looked like the young dragon was actually talking to it. Hopefully, Sweetie Belle would be in a better mood and the three of them would enjoy their picnic together.
...Except, they were walking further towards town instead of the outskirts. Was that why Sweetie Belle was upset? Did something happen during the picnic and she was now in trouble? That did not seem likely. Sweetie Belle was a pretty well behaved filly, even if she did cause a bit of trouble while with her friends. If she had done something wrong, she would look guilty or sad, not angry. Besides, neither Rarity nor Spike seemed sad or upset.
The "ball" suddenly flew up from the young dragon's grip, buzzing around in the air above his head.
Pinkamena's eyes went wide, one of them twitching. The sandwich dropped from her hoof, landing on the plate with a wet "plop" as it fell apart.
No, Pinkamena thought as she got up. No. It's impossible. It can't be. Can it? I must be mistaken. She walked toward the door, continuing to watch the... she did not even want to admit the name of the thing to herself. She had to be mistaken. Had to be. It could not possibly be a...
The thing opened its mouth, and out shot what looked like a yellow one, which started to fly with the other.
Trying to keep a calm and casual pace, Pinkamena moved to catch up with the group.
"Rarity," she called out, getting her friend's attention. Rarity turned to face her, smiling gently.
"Hello Pinkamena. How are you this morning?"
"Just having a quick break before the lunch rush," Pinkamena answered. Her gaze shifted from Rarity to the pair of flying creatures. "Speaking of, going on a picnic?"
"We were," Sweetie Belle grumbled, "but Spike's stupid bug ate the whole thing."
"Sweetie Belle," Rarity scolded, giving her sister an angry look.
"He's not stupid," Spike called back, reaching out to grab the blue insect and hug it to his chest. "He's my friend."
Sweetie Belle let out a snort, but kept quiet. Rarity turned back to Pinkamena and gave a small smile.
"Please forgive my sister," she said. "It seems she skipped breakfast in anticipation of this picnic, and is rather irritable due to hunger.
"Anyway, while we were setting up, Spike found this..." she motioned toward the creature, and stopped when she noticed there were two of them.
"Huh," she hummed softly, brow furrowed as she tapped a hoof to her chin. "Odd. I thought there was only one." She gave a shake of her head and turned back to Pinkamena.
"As I was saying: Spike found this unusual insect which I had never seen before, but was rather cute and extremely friendly. Next thing I know, the thing had eaten all of the food we had brought with us."
"I was really looking forward to it too," Sweetie grumbled.
"Now, Sweetie," Rarity said, "you don't hear Spike complaining, now do you?"
"He got to eat," Sweetie Belle retorted, "and he made a new friend. Why would he complain?"
"We'll get something to eat after Rainbow Dash's," Rarity stated, getting another irritated snort. She returned her attention to her friend. "We are going to visit her quickly and see if she is aware of what it... they are."
"That won't be necessary," Pinkamena said. "I can tell you what they are."
Rarity tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"They are called a Parasprite," Pinkamena answered, "and are very dangerous. You should take them back to where you found the first one and release them back into the wild, far from any ponies."
"No," Spike cried out. "You can't get rid of Spike Junior. He's my friend." He pointed at the yellow parasprite. "You can have the other one if you want..."
Rarity turned and smiled gently at Spike. She reached out with a hoof, running it gently over the young dragon's head.
"Don't worry," she told him. "Nopony is going to take them away from you."
"Rarity," Pinkamena started, but stopped when a hoof was held up.
"I'm sorry," Rarity said as her horn started to glow, "but you must be mistaken." She took a hold of one the yellow parasprite and held it out in front of her. "I just cannot believe that something that looks as adorable and acts as friendly as this could possibly be dangerous. You must have it confused with something else."
Pinkamena took a long, slow breath in and out through her nose, looking at Rarity and the parasprite, its big green eyes blinking.
"I mean really," Rarity continued before Pinkamena could, "what is the worst that could possibly happen?"
And with that, Pinkamena thought cosmic irony has decided that our fate has been sealed.
"Since Sweetie Belle is so hungry," she said instead, "why not let her have lunch at the coffee shop? You do have a tab set up already."
"Yes," Sweetie Belle cried out, hopping up and tossing the picnic basket off her back. "Please Rarity. Please please please?"
"I guess it would be fine," Rarity decided, releasing the parasprite. "Just promise you won't cause any trouble for Mister Joe or Pinkamena."
"I promise," Sweetie replied before rushing toward the coffee shop. Rarity, Pinkamena, and Spike all watched her go.
"I appreciate the offer," Rarity said with a smile. "It is rather sad to see her upset, and -- honestly -- irritating when she's in a cranky mood."
"I should get back as well," Pinkamena said. "She's probably ready to order, and the lunch rush will be in a few minutes. And Rarity? At least think about what I said."
Rarity looked at her friend for a long moment, then gave a nod.
"Very well." She started down the road. "I will see you in a while." Spike gave a wave from Rarity's back as they went.
Pinkamena returned the wave before returning toward the shop. Quickly, she made her way through to the counter and moved around to the back of it.
"Pinkamena?" Mugga Joe asked as he saw her approaching. "Is everything okay?"
Moving past him, she into the back toward The Ponyville Threat-level board. Taking down the pink indicator, she replaced it with the white one, then added the orange one beneath it.
"A potential orange threat?" Joe asked, looking at the chart.
"Whether or not it is an actual threat will depend on the next few hours," Pinkamena responded. "We'll know for certain tomorrow." She turned toward the stairs.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to get something quickly before my break is over."
Mugga Joe watched her start up before turning to look at the threat board one more time. With a shake of his head, he walked back toward the main area, where a young filly was eagerly awaiting to place her order.
Pinkamena made a round through the seating area, checking on the customers to make sure they had everything they needed.
According to one of the other waitresses, the opening shift had been pretty typical. That was no surprise really. Pinkamena expected that trouble would happen later in the morning, closer to afternoon. What was surprising was that things seemed to be progressing slower than she had expected. She had still seen a few Parasprites out and about, but not as many as she had thought. Either something was keeping the parasprites from reproducing as quickly as Pinkamena had figured, or other ponies had found ways to manage them that she had been unaware of. Perhaps they would be fortunate enough that her own counter-measures would prove unnecessary -- even if already set in motion.
Three earth ponies mares galloped along the street as fast as they could. Even from the distance and with the doors closed, shouts of "run," "help," and "horror" could be heard. Although not considered an official indicator by any means, those three particular mares were often the first to sign there might be possible trouble (or were just the victims of a prank to get them going, but that seemed unlikely at the moment).
The customers in Bean There, Done That watched the group -- collectively known as The Flower Trio -- run by. When the three were out sight, the silence was broken as the customers returned to their own matters. The lack of worry was not because they believed there was no threat. It was just that in light of recent events, it took more than used to for some of them to break their regular routines. Whatever the problem was that had sent the three into their usual panicked run, it was probably not immediate enough to require abandoning what they were already enjoying.
A few minutes later, three familiar looking ponies were making their way toward the shop. Pinkamena had been expecting one of them to show up soon, but not with the other two. She figured they would have shown up eventually -- and was even hoping to talk to one of them about the matter -- but had not known when it would be. Still, she was grateful to see them. Plus, it would make things easier since she would only have to explain everything once.
The three ponies stopped at the door, staring at the No Parasprites Allowed sign that Pinkamena had posted yesterday.
Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle gripped the door and pulled it open, stepping inside. She was immediately followed by Rarity, with Sergeant Nocturne Striker. As soon as they caught sight of Pinkamena, the three of them started toward her.
"Rarity said that you know about these things," Twilight called out as she got closer. "Please tell me you know something to help us."
"Like-" Nocturne started, her voice extremely raspy. She stopped as she was forced into a coughing fit.
"Are you okay?" Pinkamena asked, looking at the batpony.
"We discovered that the soundwaves used for her echolocation can temporarily disorient the creatures," Twilight explained. "They stop whatever they are doing at the moment, even flying. It makes it easier to catch them." She grimaced, ears pulling back. "Unfortunately, the constant use has kind of strained her throat for the moment." She turned to Nocturne. "Sorry."
Nocturne gave a wave of her hoof as her coughing ended.
"It's alright," she rasped. "Best idea we had."
"Take a seat and I'll get something for her throat," Pinkamena said. "Would you like anything else?"
"Well," Rarity said, considering, "I think I could use a cup of tea."
"A mocha sounds good right now," Twilight admitted.
"I'll get on those," Pinkamena said. "If one of you could catch a parasprite for me, it will make it easier to answer some of your questions."
Nocturne and Rarity walked toward a table, taking a seat, while Twilight went back outside to catch a parasprite. Pinkamena went back behind the counter and started working on the drinks: a large mocha latte with extra whipped cream for Twilight Sparkle; a green tea with milk and sugar on the side, and raspberry scone, for Rarity; and one of Zecora's herbal healing brews with honey and lemon for Nocturne. After all the drinks were ready and on the tray, Pinkamena reached under the counter. Pulling out a glass display stand filled with various baked goods, she set it on the tray as well before carrying the whole thing.
While the drinks were being made, Twilight had returned and joined the others. Her horn gave off a faint glow of magic as she held a parasprite in her aura, keeping it close to her and away from the other customers (most of which were watching the thing and pulling their food away from its direction). Pinkamena set the display stand in the table before passing out the other beverages.
"You must be quite hungry if you are planning to eat all those," Rarity said, giving a small smirk.
"They aren't for me," Pinkamena answered as she moved to sit down. "These are some of the leftovers from yesterday."
"I thought Joe normally gave those away at the end of the night," Twilight said, looking at the case as she grabbed her beverage.
"He does," Nocturne confirmed, her throat already feeling better. She grinned to herself as she remembered when Scootaloo had brought a bunch home one time, practically buzzing with excitement that she got free sweets.
"I held onto a few of them yesterday," Pinkamena explained. "There's one thing that's easier to show than tell." A painful admittance for her to make. After all, it was her job to evoke emotion through words, to give a feeling of understanding to things that others would have difficulty doing so.
The thought was pushed aside as she reached out to take a hold of the parasprite. The faint aura of magic vanished, Twilight releasing her grip on the creature. Quick as she could, Pinkamena lifted the lid, shoved the parasprite inside, then shut the opening to keep the thing inside.
The parasprite floated in there a moment, blinking its big green eyes. Its gaze then turned toward the pile of baked goods trapped inside with it. After licking its lips, the creature flew around the food pile. The four ponies only saw a little blue blur moving around. In seconds, the entire container was empty, the parasprite sitting in the middle and looking quite content.
"This is not new information," Rarity said. "We are already aware that they-" She stopped as a hoof was held up, turning her attention back to the display case.
The parasprite continued to sit in the now empty container, its eyes half-closed and a smile on its face. The creature's eyes went wide as its body swelled up. With an audible burp, a ball of pink emerged from its mouth and started flying in the air next to it.
The other three mares all stared, eyes wide at the sight of a new parasprite now in the container with the first one.
"When I was growing up," Pinkamena explained as the others were still silent from surprise, "there were other farms not far from us. Most of them were crop producers: fruits, vegetables, sugar cane, wheat, et cetera." Lowering her head, she rested her chin on the table and stared at the two parasprites.
"One day, the son of one of our neighbors was out playing when he found one of these" -- she pointed at the pair -- "and brought it home."
"Oh, my," Rarity whispered.
"A few days later," Pinkamena continued, "there were uncountable numbers of the parasprites. They had eaten all the crops at that farm and had begun to spread out to the others. As you can see, the more they ate, the more there were. The more there were, the quicker they ate. So you can probably deduce how much trouble the farms were in."
She let out a sigh.
"Even with help from disaster relief and emergency assistance funding, some of them were just not able to get up and running again. A few were abandoned, others sold. My father even bought one, wanting to rent it back to the owners until they could pay it off again. Now he's trying to get Marble or Limestone to take over while the other inherits the main homestead. But I digress."
She straightened up, looking at the others.
"I had a great aunt named Piper Pie. Kind of like me, she was different from the rest of the family. Not only because she was brightly colored, but because she was creative. She was actually a musician. Except she had this odd affinity. Somehow, she could use her music and talent to get most creatures to follow her: rats, bats, bugs, and so on. Aunt Piper had managed to work it into a pretty successful pest control business.
"So when my father found out what was happening, he took me with him and went to visit Aunt Piper. After he told her all about it, she told us what they were and agreed to help. She came back with us, pulling a wagon cart filled with all sorts of instruments. When we got back to the farm, Aunt Piper went over to one of the neighbors that had parasprites. Soon, she was playing a song, and all the parasprites were following after her, like they were hypnotized. Just followed her off the farm and into the woods."
"Wait," Twilight said, holding up a hoof. "You're telling me, that your aunt was able to lead these things away, with just a song?"
"Yes."
After that, Twilight entered her contemplative mode. Her eyes glassed over as her mind turned inwards, analyzing the new information, processing it, and figuring out any and all possible applications for it in the current situation.
"Forgive me," Rarity stated, "but it seems rather difficult to believe. Even in our current situation, were such a tale being told by any other pony, I would think they were joking."
"I believe it," Nocturne replied. "After seeing how some animals react to sonar -- and some ponies to music --" she stared at Rarity for a moment "-- I don't find it hard to believe at all."
Rarity turned away from the batpony and let out a snort, her cheeks turning a faint pink in color.
"Any chance you remember what song to play or instruments to use?" Twilight asked, exiting contemplative mode and looking at Pinkamena.
"Great Aunt Piper gave a copy of the music and list of instruments to my father and me, just in case they came back."
"Perfect." Twilight stood up and chugged the rest of her mocha. "Now all we need to do is collect the necessary instrument, find musicians who can play them, give them copies of the music, and have them lead the parasprites into The Everfree Forest. Once there, natural predators and competition for resources should reduce the population and restore balance. After that, it will just be making sure that nopony tries to bring them into a populated area again."
"Hi, mom."
"Hi, Rarity."
Nocturne, Rarity, Twilight and Pinkamena all turned toward the source call. Standing there beside the table were three fillies, smiling proudly.
"Hello, Scootaloo," Nocturne said, reaching out to ruffle her daughter's mane. "Did you need me for something?"
"No," Scootaloo replied, trying to slip out from under her mother's hoof. "We were just coming back to report to Miss Pie."
"'Report to Miss Pie?'" Twilight repeated. She moved to look at both the trio of fillies and her pink poetic friend, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Sweetie Belle answered. "She said that she needed our help to save Ponyville from the Parasprites. We've been traveling all over Ponyville all morning." Her eys suddenly went wide.
"We got all the instruments you wanted," Apple Bloom said. "They're in the wagon outside."
"And all the musicians on your list have been told that you want to see them," Scootaloo added.
"And they all have copies of the sheet music like you asked," Sweetie Belle finished.
"This is going to be awesome!" a white unicorn said, bouncing in place at the last word. "Once again, we get to save Ponyville using our awesome music skills!" She pushed up her sunglasses. "Maybe they'll write a song about us... or a rock opera. I could eve--"
"Miss Scratch!" a gray maned mare cut in. "Under the current circumstances, I would appreciate a bit of decorum and that you restrain your enthusiasm as well as cease your speculation."
Vinyl Scratch lifted her sunglasses as she turned to stare at the other mare. The brown earth mare stared right back, looking at Vinyl over edges of her own glasses.
"Mayor," Vinyl said, "you can be pretty harsh some times. You should be named Harsh. Like... Mayor Harsh... something or other."
This got a sigh of annoyance from the mayor, rolling her eyes as she gave a shake of her head.
"Forgive me if I'm 'harshing' your 'mellow,' Miss Scratch, but this is not exactly an optimal situation. Ponyville is at risk of suffering a famine as all food is eaten by some sort of rapidly reproducing insect, and I find myself having to rely on --" she let out a groan "-- a song to bring an end to the situation. I think it is understandable if I am skeptical of the matter and not in the mood for joviality."
There was a small murmur of agreement from several of the other ponies assembled.
"It does seem unlikely."
"I wasn't going to say anything, but..."
"The whole thing seems silly."
With a shake of her head, Vinyl Scratch turned and walked over to where Pinkamena stood.
"Would you foals calm down and relax?" She placed a hoof of the pink pony poet's back. "Pinkamena came up with this. If she says that it will work, then I believe that it'll work. She hasn't turned me wrong before."
Some of the other ponies assembled murmured their own agreement to that.
"She has helped save Ponyville before."
"I trust her."
"There have been studies about sound affecting other insects."
Pinkamena stood where she was, looking down at the ground. She could feel her cheeks grow a little warmer at the feeling of the hoof against her back through the fabric of her sweater. One of her own hooves reached up, taking a hold of her turtleneck and giving it a gentle tug. The day suddenly seemed a little warmer.
The mayor closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She was really starting to miss the days when the biggest issues she had to deal with were balancing the town budget and trying to keep the seasonal changes on schedule. Ancient immortals, mystical demonic monsters, and (now on top of all that) swarms of destructively voracious insects were most assuredly not matters that had been in her job description. Perhaps when elections came again, she would not run for another term. Perhaps instead, she will retire and move somewhere more peaceful -- like one of those border towns out in the frontier. Maybe she could be the mayor or sheriff there. Dealing with bandits on a daily basis sounded like it would be a lot easier at the moment.
"I'm back," a voice called out, getting Pinkamena's attention. Looking up, she caught sight of Rarity approaching. The unicorn's horn glowed faintly with magic as she carried what looked like a birdcage filled with parasprites with her.
"Woah," Vinyl said, moving to look at the cage. "What's with the captured ones?"
"I asked Rarity to see if should could bring the first one here," Pinkamena answered.
"And Spikey was not happy about it," Rarity added. "I believe he understood, but he was upset." She paused, tapping a hoof against her chin. "Perhaps it would be easier if he had a proper pet to play with. Maybe a dog... or a cat that would allow him to pick it up and pet it..."
"We can also check to be sure the music works on them," Pinkamena added.
"Hold on," the mayor said, stepping forward. "Why are you testing this? Why not simply start playing and lead them off?"
"Lieutenant Sparkle," Rarity stated, as if it explained everything.
"Oh?" the mayor asked, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Where is Lieutenant Sparkle now?"
"I believe she is still working on our route," Pinkamena answered.
"Your route?" the mayor repeated.
"Well, yes," Rarity replied. She held the cage up more. "All of this did start with just one of them. If we don't manage to catch them all..." Rarity left the implication in the air, allowing the mayor to infer and speculate what will happen.
"Fine," the mayor grunted. She turned and started to walk away. "I am going to be in my office."
With a drink, she mentally added. Leaving the others to their business, the mayor went off to relax and try to come to terms with all that was going on.
"Everypony listen up," Vinyl shouted, getting the attention of the other musical ponies. "We're about to start playing, and I don't want any interruptions. So if you have to use the bathroom, you better do it now."
"Vinyl, really," Rarity said. "These are professional ponies. I doubt they need you to..."
Several of the assembled ponies ran off, heading toward nearby bathrooms.
"...remind them to use the restroom," Rarity finished.
"What can I say?" Vinyl said with a grin. "Sometimes we get so excited about things, we forgot about others." She let out a chuckle. "I remember this one stallion that got so focused on his work that not only did he skip meals, but he would also wear a diaper in case he had t-"
"Okay," Twilight Sparkle called out. "I think I have it."
"Oh, thank Celestia," Rarity whispered, grateful for the interruption. She and the others turned to the approaching unicorn.
Twilight presented the map for all the ponies to see.
"I've marked the most efficient route through Ponyville for the band to use. It covers every road in and around town with minimal redundancy, which I managed to work into high risk areas such as the market square and near the farms. I've also taken into account the regular traffic patterns, so we should be able to avoid any large crowds that would potentially block our way."
"Great," Vinyl said, clapping her front hooves together. "So now that Twilight is ready to lead us, we can begin." Turning she took a deep breath and started shouting.
"Alright everypony!" She bellowed. "Get in position and get ready. This is not a rehearsal. We are about to go live and loud!"
The map fell to the ground as the magic holding it vanished. Twilight started at the retreating Vinyl, ears flopped back, eyes wide, and mouth hanging open.
"Lead?" she cried out. "They expect me to lead them through town? Like-like some kind of grand marshall?" Her chest swelled and contracted as she started to hyperventilate, her breaths coming in rapid gasps and escaping in huffs. "I can't lead them."
"You do already lead the rangers," Rarity pointed out. She immediately regretted it as Twilight turned to face her, eyes wild.
"That's different. That is leading a group of trained professionals into situations I am familiar with through my own training and have a strategy for."
The similarities were not lost on Rarity, but she chose to keep quiet for the moment. Her eyes shifted away from Twilight, looking desperately elsewhere for help.
"Twilight," Pinkamena said, "remember your breathing exercises."
"Right. Right. Okay."
Closing her eyes, Twilight slowly took in a deep breath and let it out. She repeated the process, then did it again. Her controlled breathing continued for half a minute.
"Alright," she said. "I'm okay."
"Now try thinking about it from a strategic standpoint," Pinkamena suggested. "Who would be best to lead the group?"
"Right," Twilight agreed. "Best choice. Let's see... it would have to be someone they would listen to. It would be counterproductive if the band didn't want to do something they were told. Not that any of them would put Ponyville at risk out of spite. It would need to be someone that knows the town well. Not only do they need to know what roads to take as planned, but where they could detour if something causes an issue."
Rarity smirked and said, "I think we know the perfect pony for that." She then pointed a hoof at Twilight.
Twilight's mouth opened, held that way a moment, then snapped shut. With a sigh, she gave a nod and turned toward the musicians.
"Okay," Twilight conceded. "Point made. I'll lead them. Rarity, get ready to open the cage. Vinyl! Count us in!"
Several of the more classically trained musicians expressed a slight annoyance at Vinyl's rock and roll style count down, while others more inclined toward more modern music grinned widely. Regardless of their opinion, all of them began to play.
Pinkamena Pie, Rarity, and Twilight Sparkle turned and watched the caged parasprites.
At first, the captured creatures continued to fly around seemingly at random within their limited space. As the music continued to play and filled the air, the parasprites slowed down before stopping, simply floating where they were. After an additional three seconds (by Twilight's count) they all started to move toward the music.
Twilight's horn lit up as she grabbed a hold of the cage and the map. A small smile formed on her mouth as she walked toward the group of musicians.
"Alright team," Twilight called out, "follow me."
The group followed after her, continuing to play as they went. Before they had even made it past the next building, they were already being followed by parasprites that were bouncing along behind them.
"Some times I worry that girl is going to give herself an aneurysm," Rarity said as she watched her friend lead the band and infestation away.
Cup Cake -- known to most as Mrs. Cake -- laid in bed, propped up against a pile of pillows. She held a book in her hooves, reading from it aloud.
"'I will do anything to prove my love for you,' the young stallion proclaimed. I will face down Diamond Dogs to find the biggest diamond any pony has ever seen. I will travel through the deserts of Saddle Arabia and bring back the best and rarest spices. I will go to the Griffon Kingdom and find the finest thundersteel.'
"What would I possibly want with thundersteel?' Oak Purity asked, giving a shake of her head."
Mrs. Cake stopped as she felt a kick. Smiling, she set the book aside and placed a hoof onto her stomach, waiting to see if she could feel it again.
After the events that happened during Winter Wrap-up, there had been some complications with the pregnancy. The doctor said that the foals (foals! She was having two of them) were fine, but she would need to try to keep relaxed and avoid as much stress as possible.
Easier said than done.
It was a little better now that Sugarcube Corner had been repaired enough for them to move back. Granted, it would still take some getting used to since it was not exactly the same, but it was still home. Plus, as much as she loved her sister and brother-in-law, she was grateful to no longer be using their guest room. Once the smell of fresh paint had faded and the fresh stock of supplies arrive, they could begin baking again. The familiarity of working in the kitchen -- even if she had to limit herself and rest often -- and the aroma of baked sweets would really make the place feel like home again.
A loud thump echoed from downstairs, followed by the sound of her husband shouting.
"Get away from there! That is not for you. You... you... thing!"
"Carrot?" she called out. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything is fine, sweet cream," her husband called back. "Just stay where you are. I'll be up with --" there was a loud metallic clang of something being slammed against something else "-- our lunch in just a minute."
For her part, Cup Cake was skeptical, but chose to let her husband deal with it until he said otherwise.
As she was about to return to her reading, a faint sound reached Mrs. Cake's ears. The sound made her pause, listening a moment longer. Sure enough, there was music, and it was getting louder.
Setting the book aside, she carefully climbed out of bed and onto her hooves. She continued to listen, walking around the room to see if she could figure out the direction it was coming from. Eventually, she made her way toward the window. Pushing it open, she stuck her head out and looked along the street.
Soon, a group of ponies were walking past. Mrs. Cake recognized the pony in front as Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle. The unicorn marched -- quite literally -- down the street, her steps matching the beat. Immediately behind her was a group of ponies playing instruments. After that came a group that was being pulled along on some sort of platform, almost like a float. Mrs. Cake could guess why, based on the size of some of the instruments and how some of the ponies were positioned to play.
"Honey bun?" her husband called out from the doorway. "Is something wrong?"
"No, sugar drop," Mrs. Cake replied. "It just seems that there's a parade going right past us."
"A parade?" Curious, Mr. Cake set down the covered tray he carried and walked over to the window with his wife. The two watched as the ponies walked past their shop, playing a song as they went.
Then came the insects. Not far behind the ponies was a massive group of what looked like a bunch of balls with wings attached to them, of all sorts of different colors. They bounced up and down in the air with the music, following after the ponies. As the couple watched, more of the creatures joined the rest.
After watching the group of musical ponies move down the road -- and who knows how many of those creatures -- the couple turned and looked at each other. After sharing a mutual shrug, the pair turned from the window and went to enjoy their lunch.
As soon as Mr. Cake lifted the lid, four of the little round insects flew out. The bolted up, the just sort of stopped. Turning, they started to bounce along with the music as they flew out the window, joining the others that were still passing.
The couple looked down at the tray, devoid of even crumbs of food.
"Why don't we go have lunch at the cafe?" Mrs. Cake suggested.
"Yeah," Mr. Cake agreed, looking rather disappointed.
*****
The train pulled into the Ponyville station, letting out a hiss as it came to a stop. Three figures disembarked, two of which were ponies.
Fluttershy smiled as she stepped off the train and looked at Ponyville. Admittedly, she did have a tendency to smile (or at least try to) most of the time, but it felt a little more relaxed and real. It was nice to be back in Ponyville. The citizenry seemed friendlier and politer than most other places. Fluttershy also felt a little more attached to the place after all that had happened. It really felt like a place to settle down and call home.
Which is exactly what she and her husband were planning to do.
Stepping off the platform, Fluttershy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her wings stretched out as she felt the warmth of the spring sun against her bright yellow coat.
"Well Ponyville is still here," Iron Will said from beside her. "Looks like it wasn't completely destroyed while we were gone."
"That's good to know," Fluttershy replied, turning to grin up at the minotaur. "It would be very awkward to be buying a new home in a town that no longer exist."
"I told you everything was fine," Iron Will stated.
"I don't know if I would go that far." Fluttershy turned to him, smirking. "At least, not until we talk to our friends and find out what we missed."
After all their years together, Iron Will knew his wife pretty well. She may have been trying to make light and joke about it, but he knew that Fluttershy was actually worried about her friends.
"Just because a couple of unusual events have happened recently doesn't mean something is going to every week," he said gently, placing a hand between her wings to rub gently. "Why, I bet that absolutely nothing unusual has happened while we were gone."
"The usual?" Fluttershy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes."
"You're on."
The two gave a nod and went to collect their luggage. As they headed toward the edge of the platform and street, the sound of music began to reach them. Iron Will and Fluttershy both shifted, looking to find the source of the sound.
"Is that a parade?" Iron Will asked, looking at the approaching forms coming up the road toward them.
"Looks like one," Fluttershy answered. "I guess we came just in time to watch." She set her bag aside and sat down. After giving a shrug, Iron Will joined her, letting his legs dangle off the platform. As he got comfortable, his wife moved to lean against him, grinning gently. The two shared a quick kiss before watching the approaching parade.
Soon, a familiar purple pony parade marched right in front of them.
"Hi, Twilight," Fluttershy called out, waving a hoof.
"Hello, Fluttershy," Twilight stated, keeping her head and eyes forward. "Iron Will. I can't really stop and talk at the moment. We're in the middle of dealing with an infestation."
"Infestation?" Iron Will repeated, eyes going wide. "What kind of infestation can be stopped by a parade. That just seems odd."
"Some would even say 'unusual,'" Fluttershy said from his side, and Iron Will could hear the smirk in her voice. Iron Will let out a snort, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to look away from her, watching the parade instead.
"I still stand by my earlier statement," he huffed, getting a giggle in reply.
*****
Sweet Apple Acres was currently under a Code V, which was basically based on Granny Smith shouting about "dadburn no good apple stealing varmints." When the alarm was sounded for a Code V ("Varmints! We've got varmints! Protect the orchard!"), all ponies that lived and worked on the farm were expected to drop what they were doing (not literally as had been pointed out after an incident that resulted in a barn fire) and prepare to protect the apple trees from the threat. And while Granny Smith may not have known exactly what the thing was called, "I know a no good varmint when I see it."
"Get away from those apple trees!" Applejack shouted. Or tried to. It was rather difficult to shout clearly while holding a net handle between her teeth.
Rearing up on her hind legs, Applejack swung her net as she dropped back down. A whoop of excitement escaped the orange mare as she managed to catch three of the creatures. It was hard to stop the grin, but she could not help but prance a little as she brought the captured little pests to the box they were currently being stored in.
"Good work, Applejack," Granny Smith said with smile. "Glad to see you haven't lost that skill."
Applejack felt a slight twitch at her grandmother's words. It was intended as real praise and a compliment. Granny Smith was proud of everything Applejack had done, and she knew that. All the same, in light of what happened with her sister, and everything about the farm she realized she missed (like the old tree house), that statement made her feel guilty. Admittedly, it was more her own fault than her family's. After coming back, she was realizing how much she had missed them.
"For crying out loud, Caramel!" Granny Smith bellowed, stomping a hoof. "You're supposed to be a Ranger trained to deal with all sorts of critters. You should be doing a whole hay of a lot better with a few apple stealing pipsqueaks."
"I'm trying," Caramel grunted back around his own net. "This wasn't exactly something we trained for."
Which was really a surprise now that he thought about it. Under Lieutenant Sparkle, they had been training for all sorts of scenarios, no matter how unlikely they seemed (seriously, what were the chances of a volcano erupting near Ponyville?), and matters had become even more extreme and unusual after recent events (although it was impressive that he now had a plan if he should be in danger of a lightning strike), so it would make sense that there was some eventuality for an infestation.
For a moment, Caramel wondered if he would hear when Twilight's head exploded at the realization there was something she had not actually planned for.
With a shake of his head, Caramel pushed the idle thoughts aside and tried to focus back onto what he was supposed to be dealing with at the moment. There were still creatures trying to get at the harvest to deal with. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to mimic the actions he saw Applejack used to catch them. Caramel reared up on his hind legs and swung the net as he came back down on all fours.
There was a vibration along the handle as something caught in the net.
"I did it!" Caramel shouted, dropping the net. "I did it. I caught them."
"Enope."
The deep resonant bass that voiced that single word caused Caramel to jump slightly, opening his eyes. Standing in front of him was a very large red coated stallion, with the net covering his head and neck down to the yoke. The ensnared stallion stood staring passively, but Caramel knew him well enough to catch the faint indication of irritation.
"Big Mac," Caramel yelped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen. I really thought I--"
"Just get this off me," Big Macintosh said in his low steady voice as he cut off Caramel's rambling start.
"Right. Right. Sorry." Taking a hold of the net handle once more, Caramel lifted it to free Big Macintosh. Macintosh let out a snort and picked his own net back up. Without a word, he moved to a slightly different part of the orchard and tried to catch more of the creatures.
Mentally, Caramel kicked himself. How could he do something so stupid as that? He was a ranger, for crying out loud. He was getting married soon. He should have grown out of doing stuff like this by now. Granted it had been a while -- which should be a sign of progress -- but it sure did not feel like it at the moment.
Stop it, he told himself, taking a deep breath. Remember what Fiddle told you. "Acknowledge, accept, move on. Everypony makes mistakes. It's best to learn from them and try not to repeat them, but don't let it keep you from trying." He would have to tell Fiddlesticks about it later. She would probably get a laugh out of the fact he caught her cousin in a net. She did have a tendency to laugh when Caramel told her about what happened, but it was never in such a way as it felt like he was being mocked or teased.
His mind began to wonder what it was she was doing right now. Apple Bloom and her friends seemed to think it was pretty important that Fiddlesticks show up at the cafe as soon as she could with her fiddle. What could possibly be going on that could be seen as a music related emergency?
For a moment, Caramel thought it must have been something major, because he swore he could hear music.
Wait... he did hear music. Not just one single instrument playing either. It sounded like an entire ensemble was heading right for Sweet Apple Acres.
Setting the net aside, Caramel headed toward the road to see what in Equestria was going on. He was quickly joined by Big Macintosh and Applejack, and not so quickly jointed by Granny Smith. As the music continued, others came to the fences as well: including Winona, several of the cows, and -- surprisingly -- some of the creatures that they had not caught yet.
As they watched, the group began to along the road in front of the farm. Musicians of all types from all over Ponyville were there, playing with all their might and passion. With two exceptions. One was Lieutenant Sparkle, who led the parade with the same look of grim determination she used whenever she tackled an objective. The other was Vinyl Scratch, who seemed to be fiddling with wires and leading a massive set of speakers with wheels.
One particular performing pony drew all of Caramel's attention as soon as she came into sight. A creamy yellow mare with dark blue mane stood on one of the platforms. Her eyes were closed tight as she concentrated on playing her music. Her shirt shifted and swayed with the rhythm as she slid her bow along the strings of her fiddle with practiced ease.
It was a little surprising to hear her playing it. Caramel had never really put much thought into his fiance's musical talents. He had heard her play and knew she was good. It was just that he was so used to hearing her play in her country and western style, it never actually occurred to Caramel to imagine Fiddlesticks playing any other type. Now that he heard it, Caramel imagined that she could have become as well known at classical as her cousin.
Something... bounced seemed the best choice of words for it. Yes. Something bounced past his head, bobbing up and down in mid-air as it moved forward. It seemed to be moving in time to the music. Then came another. Then another. Soon a line of those strange little bugs were bouncing right past them, leaving the orchard and farm as they headed to follow the music.
"What...in..." Applejack started, staring at the scene in disbelief. "How... what..." She gave a shake of her head. "Does anypony know what is going on?"
Caramel's ears perked up as he saw the lines of creatures following the musicians, something in his mind seeming to fall in place.
"I think I know enough." Turning away from the fence, he started running across the farm.
"Where are you going?" Granny Smith called out.
"To open the box," Caramel shouted back as he kept running.
For a moment, the three members of the Apple family all stood there, waiting to see which of them would die of shock first.
*****
Twilight had never been so glad to see The Everfree Forest. If she saw the forest, that meant they were almost to the forest, which in turn meant that they were almost done with this entire crazy plan.
Granted, it was effective, but she still could not deny that it seemed incredibly outrageous. Even if there was some sound scientific plausibility to it (which Twilight made a mental note to talk to Dewdrop about any possible books about for later research purposes), it was still hard for her to comprehend that they were essentially fighting an invasion of parthenogenetic insects -- or insect-like creatures that were more likely a minor type of fae -- by invoking an involuntary auditory stimuli response.
More importantly, she would be done with leading this parade. Despite what others would believe, Twilight was quite certain that this was not the same as having the rangers parade march in formation. Plus, she would be grateful for getting away from the music. It was a nice enough song, and she had enjoyed it at first. After listening to it for Celestia knows how many hours while walking all around and through Ponyville, it had given her a throbbing headache. Especially this one spot just above her eye, it felt like it was going to explode.
As for the musicians, they deserved some sort of award. Not only had they been playing non-stop since the entire thing started, but some of them had to maintain awkward positioning, hold a heavy instrument a specific way (and Twilight knew that holding up something that was even light could be straining after an extended amount of time), or possibly both. Whomever started the stereotype that musicians tended not to be athletic was clearly mistaken. She was pretty sure that even her brother -- captain of The Royal Guard -- would feel the strain of standing on his hind legs with forelegs extended to hold two or more pounds for more than an hour.
Now they were in the home stretch. Not only could she see The Everfree coming closer, but she could see the ranger station as well. As she got closer, she caught sight of movement around the station, and felt a smile tug at the edges of her mouth. Word had reached the station ahead of them -- as she expected -- and everything was being set up.
"Alright everypony," Twilight shouted out. "Just a few more minutes, and we'll be at the edge of the forest. Then we just need to keep the song going..."
She turned to look behind her, trying to figure out how long it would take to lure all of the parasprites into the forest. Unfortunately, she could not see all of them. Without knowing the full population they have captured and their speed of travel (if constant), Twilight could not accurately calculate how long it would take to have them all enter The Everfree before the music could end.
"...until all the parasprites have been cleared," she finished instead. "Once that's done, we can all rest and enjoy some refreshments."
"Wooh!" cried one of the few ponies that could talk without disturbing the music, throwing her front hooves over her head. Twilight shook her head, saying nothing.
After an additional seven minutes, Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle reached the station. With a hard right, she stepped off the path she had been following and moved aside. The first musician immediately behind her turned in the opposite direction, stepping to the left side. The next followed Twilight, and the one after the opposite. One by one it continued, the musicians moving to one side of the path or the other until they had all moved off.
Then came the moment of truth. The group continued to play, watching and waiting to see whether it would work or not.
The parasprites kept going straight forward. They did not turn left or right, nor did they stop. Instead they just kept bouncing forward, moving at the set, steady rhythm of the music as they headed into the forest.
Twilight wanted to let out a deep sigh and sag in relief. Unfortunately, that was not yet an option. First, she could not relax until all of the parasprites had evacuated the town. Second, there were subordinates about, and Twilight felt it would be inappropriate for them to see their leader show weakness (even if they had seen her at her most neurotic and panic stricken, which did not cross her mind at the moment). For now, she just had to maintain her discipline until the final few had passed. Then she could relax, recover, and move on to her favorite part: the paperwork. Although now that she thought about it, how was she going to classify this?
All around the Luna's Rangers Guard Station, musicians sat or laid sprawled out on the ground. Rangers moved among them, checking on the exhausted ponies. Some carried trays with various snacks and beverages, while others carried various medical supplies such as first aid kits, bandages, and ice packs. One was even applying ointment to the undersides of a pony's hooves.
Closer to the station, two tables were set up. At one sat Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle. Her horn glowed as she lifted up ice packs one by one, held them for about three seconds, then set them back down. A quill was held between her teeth and she shuffled several pieces of paper in front of her.
At the other stood Pinkamena. She passed out food and drinks to the musicians who were strong enough to get there on their own, and to the Rangers to take to the ones that were not.
Rarity walked toward the table that Twilight currently sat at. Her eyes continued to look around at the worn out ponies and those that were helping them. She really wished she did not have to be here under the current circumstances. She would much prefer if she were here to volunteer in assisting. After all, a majority -- if not the entirety -- of the blame for the issue could be placed on her and Spike. Fortunately, most of the ponies in Ponyville were pretty understanding, and none save for Pinkamena were aware of how dangerous the parasprites actually were.
"Ice packs are ready," Twilight shouted. Several Rangers came up and collected the ice packs, taking them over to other ponies.
"Hello Twilight," Rarity said as she approached, "Pinkamena."
"Rarity," the other two responded.
"How is everything going?"
"One second," Twilight said before turning to the side and shouting.
"Sunburn!"
"Yes?" a burnt orange pegasus called back.
"Is Beauty Brass dead?"
"Hold on." Sunburn moved over the mare in question, poking her. "No, Ma'am. She's still alive. Just asleep."
"Thank you." Twilight then turned back to the papers in front of her. "No fatalities," she said as she made a note on the paper.
"Fatalities?" Rarity cried out, eyes wide. "Did you think such a thing was possible?"
"Yes," Twilight replied, "but not very probable. All of the musicians are in their prime age and health, but we still marched for hours without any of them even taking a break."
Rarity shifted, one of her ears flicking as she licked her lips. Her gaze drifted away from her friend and toward the exhausted ponies around them.
"How bad is it?"
"Nothing a few days of rest or a trip to the spa can't take care of," Twilight answered, rubbing her forehead. "Most of them are just exhausted, with the next biggest problem being stiffness and soreness from holding a position for so long. Several have chafing, three might have bruises, one somehow got blisters on the soft underside of their hooves, and one...had an accident."
Rarity tilted her head, curious.
"What happened? Did they fall? Walk into something?"
"Not that kind of accident," Twilight said.
"Then what..." Rarity started, but stopped as the implication sank in. "...Oh..."
"Rarity," Pinkamena spoke up, "is something the matter?"
"Matter?" Rarity squeaked as she turned to face Pinkamena. "What makes you think something's the matter? Why that's just silly. Silly I say." She threw her head back out and let out a long, loud, and rather unconvincing, laugh.
When she stopped, she found that Twilight and Pinkamena were staring at her. It was clear that they were not buying it. Rarity let out a sigh, her shoulders and head sagging.
"Okay," she said. "So... it turns out that Spike -- who I would like to you remind you still a child who is young, innocent, and naive -- was... not quite as understanding as I thought."
"Please," Twilight groaned, "tell me he did not keep one of the parasprites."
"...three..." Rarity mumbled, turning to look out over the edge of the field.
Twilight lifted her head and looked at Rarity. The Lieutenant's eyes narrowed to study her friend as she perked her ears forward.
"What was that?"
"Three," Rarity blurted. "He kept three. He gave me the original but still had three." She shifted. "In his defense, they weren't for him, and it was really for a very sweet reason."
"And what reason would that have been?"
"He wanted to give them as gifts to Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo. He thought his aunt and her friends would like them."
Neither Pinkamena nor Twilight seemed very moved by the sentiment.
"So," Twilight said very slowly, one of her eyes twitching, "Spike kept three of the parasprites, when one was enough to start this whole situation." She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I take it there are no longer just three?"
"Well..." Rarity shifted again. "There might be two or three... dozen more..." She held up a hoof. "But the good news is that we have them all trapped in a barn where there is no food. Now we just need to get them far away before the get loose. Especially since the closest farm is Carrot Top's and I really don't want her furious with me."
Twilight Sparkle slammed her head against the table and let a groan. Being a friend and neighbor of Rarity's had made Carrot Top's farm one of the places most likely to have an outbreak and attack by parasprites. That was why Twilight had made sure that it was one of the farms that the route would pass twice, same as with Sweet Apple Acres. So that places in the most danger would also have the best chance of being protected.
An old quote came to mind: "No plan survives first contact with the enemy." She then wondered why no one ever warned about the ever-growing list of other things that could potentially derail an otherwise well created plan: to which Twilight could now add "baby dragons."
"Alright," Twilight said as she lifted her head. "I'll see if any of the musicians feel up for one more performance. Hopefully we can get enough to-"
"That won't be necessary," Pinkamena cut in.
"It won't?" both Twilight and Rarity asked, turning to face their friend.
"I was hoping to avoid it," Pinkamena said, "but I can do it on my own." She turned to step around the table. "I'm just going to need some of the instruments."
"Are you sure?" Twilight asked, causing Pinkamena to pause.
"No," Pinkamena answered. "I don't have Great Aunt Piper's musical or animal talents. Unfortunately, nearly everypony is exhausted. Since she was my aunt and I've seen her perform, I probably have the best chance. I have to at least try." She turned to look over her shoulder. "You know you would do the same thing."
Twilight gave a slight nod, but said nothing.
"Since it's just Rarity's farm," Pinkamena continued, "it should be a lot faster. If we're lucky, I'll be back shortly with the last of the parasprites. At worst, at least everypony will have more time to rest." With that she left the two unicorns while heading over toward the musicians, talking to them about borrowing their instruments.
"Well, I'll leave you to your work then," Rarity said as she turned from Twilight. Before she could take two steps, the white mare found herself engulfed in a rose-colored aura.
"Hold on," Twilight snapped. "Where do you think you're going?"
Rarity turned to look back at Twilight, eyes wide.
"With Pinkamena back to my farm."
"She isn't leaving yet," Twilight retorted. "So while she gets what she needs, you can fill in for her."
"...I suppose that's fair."
Twilight nodded and released her magical grip on Rarity. Rarity gave herself a shake, and moved behind the table with refreshments. Her horn began to glow as she started to pass out the sandwiches, sweets and beverages.
"Parasprites. A perpetual plague of pests. Multiple mouths always seeking more meals. Always eating, always hungry, and never can that void be filled. For when one should be full, another shall come and both shall seek food once again. And I believe that it is true, nothing can be fulfilling unless you can keep a part of it inside of you.
"Parasprite. Parasite. Embodiments of pestilence and famine that can fit in your hoof. Our very own town you can examine and see the proof. In less than a day, so much food was taken away, if nothing had been done how far would it have gone? Would we be lucky enough for them to stop ... after they eat the last crop, or would they simply move on? Eat things that may not be seen as food? The flowers and grass under our hoof, the very buildings from foundation to roof: would any of this be safe? Or when starvation got us and we finally fell, would they eat us as well?"
There was a gentle clapping of hooves as the pony stepped off the stage.
"Thank you for that performance," Pinkamena called out as she stepped up to the microphone. "That was both dark and thought provoking." She lifted the clipboard she held, looking over it.
"Before we continue: on behalf of the Bean There, Done That, I would like to thank everypony for coming out for our parasprite themed performance night. We still have plenty of openings available. So if you want to perform, you can sign up at the counter. We have also have donation jars as well as specially marked snacks and beverages. All proceeds from those will be used to assist ponies that have suffered financially in light of recent events."
She paused, looking back toward the counter and getting a quick head shake in response. After giving a brief nod, she flipped the page on her clipboard.
"That seems to be it for the announcements at the moment. Our next performer tonight will be..."
She looked at the name listed, then looked at it again. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned closer, making sure that she was reading it right.
"...Rainbow Dash?" she read aloud, not keeping the surprise from her voice.
"Hey," Rainbow called out, "I may not do it all the time, but I know plenty about rhythm and rhyme."
"I just imagined you more as the rock and roll guitar type. Anyway, Rainbow Dash."
There was a polite clapping of hooves as Pinkamena moved off the stage and Rainbow Dash stepped on. Pinkamena moved off to the side, not too far since she was unaware how long Dash's piece (or pieces) would be. It really was a surprise that she was doing it at all. Rainbow Dash did have a basic sense of rhythm and was picking up rhyming with ease since she became Zecora's apprentice, but Pinkamena had never seen anything that would indicate an interest in spoken poetry.
It actually sounded like she had a talent for it. A bit basic with rhyming couplets, but a start. If she was willing to learn a little more and practice, Pinkamena thought that Rainbow Dash could be a real talented poet in her own right.
"You have visitors," a voice said from behind Pinkamena, making her turn around.
A tall, lanky, rose-pink mare stood nearby, smiling gently. Her head tilted, blue eyes glancing back toward the counter where she had been standing. Beside it were two familiar looking forms: Twilight Sparkle and Vinyl Scratch.
"Judging from the way Lieutenant Sparkle is acting," the mare said as she turned her attention back to Pinkamena, "I'm guessing it is some sort of official business." She held up a hoof. "Watch the register while you talk to them, there's few customers there at the moment. I'll cover the announcements for now."
Pinkamena nodded and passed the clipboard to Mrs. Joe. She then moved to walk past her, but was stopped by the mare's tail.
"Are you certain you don't want to go up?" Mrs. Joe asked. "We do still have plenty of openings."
"I'm certain," Pinkamena answered.
"Suit yourself."
Pinkamena headed over to the waiting pair of unicorns. Vinyl wore her well-known sunglasses (regardless of the fact that they were in doors and it was night time), and had a massive grin on her face as she hopped up and down on her front hooves slightly. Twilight stood stiff and at attention, every muscle tense.
"I assume you aren't here to perform or donate," Pinkamena said as she reached the pair.
"They want to record your song and take it national!" Vinyl Scratch practically shouted, grinning as wide as she could. The proclamation got a glare of anger from Twilight, which Vinyl either did not notice or did not care about.
"Record my song," Pinkamena said slowly, looking at the pair.
"It's a possibility," Twilight answered, still glaring at Vinyl. She then turned her attention back to Pinkamena. "That is, provided that the ability would still work on parasprites like that."
"I thought you already had a copy of the song and instrument list in case they returned," Pinkamena said. "Are you worried that's not enough?"
"It's not about Ponyville," Twilight answered. "It turns out that there are other towns that have also been infested with parasprites recently."
"Lieutenant uptight here --" Vinyl punched Twilight in the shoulder, causing her to stumble a step "-- thought that if we recorded it, we could send it to every town in Equestria. That way the ones in trouble could deal with it, and the ones that don't will have it ready just in case."
"When I suggested it, Vinyl" -- Twilight then punched Vinyl in shoulder, causing the disc jockey to nearly fall over before regaining her footing -- "was more than willing to let us use her recording equipment.
"We can still send the sheet music and instrument listing, but with some of the larger towns, it will probably take longer to assemble a group of musicians than to complete and send the records. Alternatively we could re-assemble our own group and have them play at each town, which would start out being the fastest choice. Unfortunately, they would only be able to visit one town at a time. So while one would be saved, others would continue to be destroyed. That would mean we would have to try and figure out how to give priority to whom in what order. It would have so many variables to calculate: geographical distance, size, population density, food produ-"
Twilight was cut off when a cookies and cream brownie was stuffed into her mouth. She narrowed her eyes to glare at Vinyl Scratch (again), but continued to eat the sweet treat she had been given.
"I don't think we need one of your neurotic scheming rants at the moment," Vinyl said.
"I don't scheme," Twilight huffed before taking another bite.
"Anyway," Vinyl turned back to Pinkamena, "you get the main idea. We get the band back together, record your song, and send it to every town."
"Provided," Twilight added, "we know that it still works. We should be able to find a few close to the edge of the forest still."
"So what do you think?" Vinyl asked.
"I don't see why it wouldn't work," Pinkamena answered.
"Great!" Vinyl threw her foreleg around Pinkamena's neck, pulling her closer. "Tomorrow, we can get all the musicians together and bang this thing out before dinner. You can even hang out with me in the control room while we do it."
Pinkamena shifted, seeming to be a bit brighter colored.
"That sounds nice."
"For now," Vinyl said as she pulled away, "give me a couple of those cannolis, and a cup of black coffee. Plus, Lieutenant uptight's brownie and whatever else you two want, on me." She paused, tapping her chin a moment. "Ah, what the hay. Sign me up for a spot while you're at it."
Pinkamena tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"Of course," Vinyl said. "I mean it's just like rap, isn't it? How hard can it be?"
Pinkamena said nothing, but she could not help but notice the mischievous smirk on Twilight's lips.
