> Equestria Girls: It's Showtime--Wallace and Gromit in Diamonds Are Not Best Friends
>  by PlymouthFury58
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> I. Wallace and Gromit Are A Go
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun rose through the clouded Friday morning, turning last night’s downpour into vapors of evaporating steam, and sending the clouds to buttle off ten miles down the road into the neighboring county.

The weather forecast had predicted an onslaught of neverending heat for the next six days, ending the streak of summer coolness off and on passing rain clouds.  That would mean that the scheduled and planned sports activities and events had to be postponed in the eleventh hour.

Meanwhile, in the home of 10 Everfree Lane, the earliest riser of the household was sitting down on the dining table reading through the “Morning Telegraph”, specifically the section to do with all of the cancellations across town.  The headline read “Morning Heat Cancels Swimming Event”.

He took a bite from his marmalade toast, waiting for his master to rise from his cheesy slumber.

Just then, the buzzer marked as “Breakfast” alerted Gromit from his concentrated reading.

Wallace, meanwhile upstairs in bed, was pressing the “Breakfast” button on his homemade service station.  “It’s Wednesday today, Gromit,” he said, “that means it’s your turn to make breakfast.”

Gromit leaned back in his seat and pulled the activation lever.  Upstairs, Wallace’s bed rose up at an angle while a trapdoor opened up at the foot, causing him to slide down through the ceiling of the dining room and into his chair, this time into a prepared cushion.  Then, his various machines went to work, dressing him up in his morning slippers, brown trousers, white shirt and red tie underneath a green sweater vest.

Today, Gromit passed Wallace a plate of buttered and jammed English muffins.  “I’m still perfecting the All-Purpose Breakfast machine, lad,” he said through bites.  “Should be up and running in a couple of days soon.”

Gromit rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his morning tea.

“Still, this is nothing to complain about, pooch.”  He took a glance at the morning headline.  “Oh, dear.  I’m sorry to hear about the oncoming heatwave.  I’m sure Rainbow Dash was looking forward to that event for a while now.”

Gromit nodded with understanding.

“I’m sure she’ll be alright.  After all, there’s plenty of cheese to choose from, and with her skills in all sorts of sports she’s bound to bounce back, in a manner of speaking of course.”  He ate the last of his English muffin, wiggling his fingers with delight.  “Mmm, that is one smashing muffin right there, Gromit.  I see your skills in baking bread haven’t gone to the dogs, eh?”

Gromit sighed sadly in remorse.

Wallace backpedaled.  “Oh, uh, oh dear.  I’m sorry, lad.  I didn’t mean to open up old wounds… for myself as well as you.”  He anxiously ate his second muffin without another word, lost in horrible memories.  He took a sip from his teacup.  “Still, we shouldn’t be feeling cream-crackered this early in the morning, Gromit.  We’ve got the whole day ahead of us.”

Gromit checked the clock on the wall.  8:25 a.m.  School should be starting up anytime soon, and just in time for the West Coast sunshine to barely begin the onslaught of sweating.  Being stuck between the Rocky Mountains and Pacific Seaboard tended to give off the worst of both worlds.

“I’m going to go and check and see if there is any post,” Wallace said, getting up.  He walked over to the mailslot in the front door and picked up the post, going over to the parlor armchair to read them.  “Seems like a slow day for mail today.  That heatwave must be working fast this morning.”

Just then, the phone rang.  It was sitting on the stand next to his chair and attached to a homemade speaker.

“Hello, Wallace and Gromit’s Street Shiners Road Paving Service.  How may we be of assistance?” he answered.

“Hello, Wallace, this is Vice-Principal Luna of Canterlot High speaking,” a familiar voice answered back.

“Oh, hallo, Luna.  Nice of you to call us up.  What do you need?”

“Well, the street outside Canterlot High could use a touch up.  The last of the buses just left so the street should be empty for you.”

“On our way, Luna.”  He hung up the phone and called his dog.  “Shake a leg, Gromit!  We’ve got a client!”

Because they were still considered new around Canterlot City, Wallace felt it was impolite to be converting their new house prematurely, so instead of riding on some overly complicated system where he would be automatically placed into his work clothes, he instead followed Gromit into the garage through the door.  He kicked off his slippers and slipped on his work boots, replacing his sweater vest for a neon green overcoat, and placed a white with their business logo printed onto the side.  Gromit matched Wallace’s outfit, only his helmet was dark yellow with their business logo.

Wallace climbed into the driver’s side of the van, and buckled his belt in time for Gromit to climb in.  “We’ll have to be careful, lad,” he cautioned.  “We’re needed at Canterlot High this morning, and the last of the students should be arriving now.”

In truth, Gromit was more worried about how the rising heat would affect the blood pressure of the residents who still had a bone to pick with them.





Rainbow Dash was not happy.

Just that morning, she had received word that the swimming event that she had been looking forward to for months had to be postponed to three weeks away, right around the time that would interfere with her basketball event.  Of course, reading between the lines the events wouldn’t clash as much as it angered her, but she was in a foul mood that morning and the rising heat didn’t help much matters.

She parked her motorbike in the student parking area, threw off her helmet, and marched up the sidewalk to the front doors of the school, feeling a few beads of sweat already.

When she crossed around the corner, she found that the street outside the building had been closed off with road signs and everything, and she noticed a familiar looking van plastered with the words “Wallace and Gromit’s Street Shiners: We Smooth Roads Better Than The Moon.”

She groaned under her breath, hoping to catch it once the blast of the A/C smacked her in the face and around her body.





Rarity was feeling alright in the morning.

Sure the rising heat was something to be concerned of, but she put that worry on the byways as she walked to school, fanning her face with an electric fanner.  She felt that the paper would’ve caught fire if the heat permitted.

When she reached the school’s limits, she noticed that the street had been closed off to traffic, with signs and stands depicting a halting red hand.  The sidewalk she walked on had meant she needed to cross the street to reach the front doors, and the crosswalk was also closed off behind the barriers.

Suddenly, a figure jumped out in front of her dressed in a road worker’s uniform and holding a sigh sharing the depiction of the halting red hand, only for her to realize that the worker was a familiar looking dog.

“Oh, Gromit,” she exclaimed.  “Forgive me.  I didn’t see you there.”

Gromit looked around himself and behind Rarity before spinning the sign around, now depicting a green hand pointing across the street, and Gromit added a sweep of his hand to it.

“Such a gentleman…er, dog, Gromit,” Rarity complimented.

Just behind Rarity, Gromit saw Fluttershy walking up the sidewalk.  Or, more accurately, she was trudging up the sidewalk.  She had her head down facing the cement and looked crest-fallen and everything.

She walked up to Gromit, yelping as he halted her.

“Eep!  Oh, Gromit.  It’s just you.”

He cocked his worried head at her.

“Yeah, yeah, of course I’m alright.”  She wiped a hand over her sniffing tears.  “There’s no need to worry about…about me.”

Gromit arched his brow in worry but let her cross anyway.  He watched after her, observing how arched her posture was, then sadly shook his head.

Rarity of course saw through.  She wasn’t as keen with honesty as Applejack was, but she could…mostly read emotions like a crossword puzzle.

“Fluttershy, are you alright?” she asked.

“Of course I’m alright.  Why wouldn’t I be alright?” Fluttershy’s response felt a tad quick and forced, like she didn’t want to actually speak her mind.

“Oh, hey Rarity, Fluttershy,” Rainbow greeted, before entering into a hissing whisper.  “Come on.  We need to get inside before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?” Rarity asked, perplexed.

Just then, Applejack appeared.

“Howdy, girls.  Y’all by any chance haven’t seen Pinkie ‘round here, have ya?”

“No I’m afraid not,” Rarity replied.

“I think she stayed overnight in the culinary class…again,” Rainbow grumbled.  “Now can we please hurry up and get inside?”

“Whai the sudden rush, Rainbow?” Applejack asked.

“I just don’t want to get caught out in the heat, that’s all.”

Just then, a low rumbling noise caught their attention from the group session back to the street.  Rolling past an opening in the construction barriers was a giant of a machine.  It rolled along tank treads, or caterpillar tracks, stretched out to make way for the road rollers hidden in the undercarriage.  The defining feature was the gargantuan tub in the middle, complete with a smokestack, with a smaller compartment attached to the rear.  It was painted dark green, like the color found on those John Deere merchandise, with the words “Wallace and Gromit’s Street Shiners: We Smooth Roads Better Than The Moon” plastered over the side.

At the front, hanging over the treads, was a cab, and inside the cab was none other than the cheese-loving crackpot inventor himself: Wallace.

“Alright then, Gromit!” he called.  “You’d best cover up the barriers, and then we can get started.”

Gromit obliged, getting up from his stool and moving the road barriers behind the road machine back into place, making sure they were straight as an arrow.  He gave the thumbs up when he was finished.

Wallace returned the gesture before pulling a crank in the cab.  The machine whirred and shook, before an opening opened up at the front, and hot melted tarmac began pouring out onto the street.  Wallace gently opened the throttle to move the machine over the tarmac, the rollers flattening it into place, ending with a pair of mechanical hands holding a brush and paint bucket painting the side of the road with a nice and straight white line.

Wallace then set the machine to full autopilot, then pulled out an “Ay-Up” magazine before kicking back in his seat, letting the machine trudge along its work at the pace of drying cement.

“Seems laik Wallace and Gromit’re back in business,” Applejack commented.

Rainbow facepalmed.  “Only a matter of time until something explodes.”

“Yer still salty abou’ tha whole soccer match, ain’t ya?”

“Give me a break, AJ.  They cheated!”

“Well, he’s certainly got genius where it counts,” Rarity remarked.  “He’s even fixed up that Autochef of his, and now it’s working like a charm for my family.”

“Ah’ll admit, tha’ CrackerVac a’ his certainly helps a ton around tha house,” Applejack added.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good to know,” Rainbow grumbled.  “Next thing you know, they’ll be using some sort of…robot dolphin to beat me in a lapped swimming race or something.”

“Oh, a robot dolphin.  I’d like to see that,” Fluttershy perked up.

Rainbow facepalmed again.

“Don’ think too hard on it, sugercube,” Applejack patted her shoulder.  “Yer jus’ bein’ harsh on the boys.  They’re fun ta be around.”

“I concur, Applejack,” Rarity agreed.  “That Wallace is quite the gentleman.”

“Methinks Rarity has a crush,” Rainbow sniggered.

“Don’t be so uncouth, Rainbow Dash.  I’m a fashionista and Wallace is an inventor.  Besides, I’m still in high school and he’s middle aged.”

“So’s Twilight.”

Rarity nearly shrieked.

Applejack stepped between them.  “Now, now, girls.  Now’s not tha tahme fer an argument.”

“She started it,” Rainbow snapped.

“I did not,” Rarity snapped back.

“Please!  Anywhere but here.

Rainbow huffed, turning around and marching into the school without another word.

Rarity crossed her arms, scowling.

“Don’ take wha she said ta heart, Rares.  She’s jus’ upset abou’ tha’ swimmin’ event bein’ postponed an’ all,” Applejack consoled.

Just then, Twilight Sparkle came rushing up the sidewalk, sweating and papers flying out of her arms.  “Sorry I’m late!  My alarm clock broke down and I overslept.”

“Here, let me help you with your papers,” Rarity offered.

“Thanks, Rarity,” Twilight replied.  Then she noticed Wallace working his machine, and she suddenly shot to her feet, knocking Rarity head over heels.  “Morning, Wallace!” she waved.

Wallace, hearing a faint calling of his name, looked over to see Twilight and her friends.  She was hopping like a mad bunny and waving her arm over her head.  He pulled the emergency stop lever and the machine froze in place.  “Good morning, Twilight!” he waved back.

“What did you build this time?  It looks so cool!” she squealed with ecstasy.

“You like it?  It’s my All-Purpose Road Machine.”

“How does it work?”

“First, the tarmac flows out the front right here, then is flattened by the rollers between the caterpillar tracks, before hardening ready for the painters out the back.  It’s positively smashing if I do say so myself,” he grinned with pride, straightening his tie.

Twilight hopped around again, nearly shaking her backpack loose.  “Hey!  Can you let me outta here now?!”

She froze in realization.  “Oh!  Sorry, Spike!”  She set down her pack, opening it to reveal her dog, her magically talking dog, Spike, rubbing her neck and laughing with embarrassment as he scowled up at her.  “Sorry, I forgot you were in there.”

“Say no more,” he sighed, groaning.  “I know how you get around Wallace.”  He turned and walked down the sidewalk.  “See ya after school!”

“Where are you going?” Twilight asked.

“I promised Angel and Shaun a card game a while ago.  I’m heading to the animal shelter.”

With her papers in hand, Twilight waved goodbye to Wallace before rushing into the school, cursing herself that she could be late to another English history exam.  Applejack tipped her stetson, following after her.

Rarity and Fluttershy were left outside the building, and the former noticed that the latter had once again gone somber.

“Fluttershy, darling,” Rarity consoled.  “Whatever the matter is, we can help you.”

“No,” Fluttershy mumbled, sniffing.  “No one can.”

Rarity put an arm around her, offering comfort.  “Please tell me, then I will know if we can help you.”

She offered her friend a handkerchief, and patiently but anxiously waited for a response.

Fluttershy looked up from the mucus covered cloth, fighting back a sob.  “The Shelter’s…it…it’s …”

Rarity calmly caressed her side.  “It’s alright.  You can tell me.”

Fluttershy nearly snapped in response.  “The Shelter’s run out of funding.”

Rarity gasped.  “But it couldn’t have.  How could it have happened?”

“It’s a volunteer organization, Rarity, at least for me.  There’s only three of us: the manager, the janitor, and me.  I actually work two jobs,” she choked, “but it’s worth it to be around and see the happy faces on-on… all of the ani-animals, and now…now they won’t have a home to go to…!”

She couldn’t hold it back anymore, and the floodgates opened up.  Rarity pulled her into a tight hug as she sobbed into her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Fluttershy,” she choked.  “I’m so, so sorry that this had to happen to you.  You really are too kind for this cruel world.  But we’ll pull through this if it’s the last thing I do.”  She released Fluttershy to look square in her eyes.  “I give you my word, not as a lady but as a friend, that I will stop at nothing to save the animal shelter, and all of the animals who haven’t a home to go to.  Do you understand me?”

Fluttershy hesitated, then meekly nodded.  “T-thank you.  But, can you please not tell the others, a-at l-least not y-yet.”

Rarity hugged her again.  “Anything for you, dear Fluttershy.”  The two friends then entered the school doors, feeling more miserable despite the heat.

Unaware of the both of them, the two road workers had overheard the entire conversation.

“Great heavens above, Gromit,” Wallace sadly sighed.  “That’s just not cricket, that is.  All those poor animals who haven’t a home.”

Gromit, drooping his newspaper from his comfortable seat surrounded by multiple working fans, sadly nodded in agreement.

“Just what are we to do, lad?  We simply must help out dear Fluttershy.  We owe it to her for looking after Shaun for us.”  Wallace set his magazine aside, activating the crank.  “Well, we’d best get back to work.  This road’s not going to shine itself.”

Gromit slumped back into his seat, feeling miserable all over again.





Elsewhere, in a different part of town, a city bus parked at a bus depot to let off a passenger.  Today, there was just one passenger: a black and white-bellied penguin with orange feet and beak, carrying a small suitcase.  He hopped off the last step of the bus, landing smoothly onto the cement sidewalk with no trouble.

The bus left, leaving the penguin alone with his thoughts.  His face was expressionless and calculating, devoid of any emotion.  He observed his new surroundings with curiosity.  He walked down the sidewalk, taking in every detail he could find.

So far, there wasn’t anything valuable worth his time.  All he could see were plenty of rich folks, but all they wore were rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and every other kind of jewel that was inferior not only in durability, but also in beauty.

What he needed were diamonds.  Rich, smooth, and shining diamonds that glistened in the sunshine.

First and foremost, he needed a base of operations, or at least some place that is accommodating to escape the infernal heat.

He plucked a map from a nearby stand, without alerting the busy owner, and opened it up.  He needed someplace that the last person would suspect he would be hiding in, the kind of place that would be inviting or, if he was lucky, down on its luck and needed money from a lodger.

He paused, then shook off the memories.

Then, he spotted the words “Animal Shelter”, located a few blocks down.

The perfect place.
> II: The Balloon Festival
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Around midday, Wallace whirred his All-Purpose Road Machine to a halt.  He hopped out of the cab and went to join Gromit, who had prepared a table of tea and biscuits.  The road job was just about finished, but the pair were still feeling downtrodden.

“It’s just not cricket, Gromit,” Wallace frowned, stirring his teacup.  “The Animal Shelter seems to be a nice hotspot for all of the city’s animal lovers.  How could it have possibly run out of funding?”

Gromit meekly shrugged his shoulders, taking a bite from his biscuit.

“I suppose taking care of a house-pet isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, lad.”  Wallace took a sip from his cup, not feeling the splendid taste of his favorite tea flavor.  “There must be something we can do to help, Gromit.”

At that moment, a slight gust of wind blew a crumpled up paper ball into Gromit’s foot.  Curious, he picked up the ball and carefully unraveled it to reveal an advertising flier for a hot-air balloon show.

“What is it that you got there, lad?” Wallace asked.

Gromit presented the flier to Wallace.  He read it aloud.  “‘Hot-Air Balloon Festival Comes to Canterlot City this Saturday.  Any and All Participants Welcome.  Fundraisers Accepted.  Price of Admission Amounts to $55 per balloon entry.’

“Gromit…this is just,” Wallace’s face brightened up like a hot-air balloon, “fantastic!”

Gromit looked up from his slouched position.

“Don’tcha see, lad?  This balloon festival is the perfect opportunity to raise fundings for the Shelter!  Tons of people will be there to watch the balloons, which means that there will be plenty of potential donations!  It’s positively spiffing news!”

Gromit held his speculations, in contrast to Wallace’s unconditional optimism.

“Oh, don’t worry, Gromit.  I’m sure we could build our very own hot-air balloon in time for the festival, and you needn’t worry about the price of admission.  We’ve got plenty of spare cash lying around somewhere.”

Just then, Vice-Principal Luna appeared to them, holding out an envelope.  “Well done, Wallace.  I see you’ve done a splendid job with the roadwork.”

“Oh, it was no trouble at all really.”

“Indeed.  Anyway, your check amounts to $70 plus a little extra $5 for compensation.  Have a good day!”

“Righto!”  He held the envelope in his hand, beaming proudly.  “We’re in business, lad.  Just wait till we give Fluttershy the good news.”





The penguin smoothly waddled down the sidewalk, calmly observing and watching for any passersby that blocked his path, not letting anything or anyone cross or stop him in his tracks.

He was here to make tracks, and by heck he was on a mission to do so.

Soon enough, he made his way to the front door of the Canterlot City Animal Shelter, and really the outside architecture provided a falsehood for whatever scrounging mess all those mangy animals kicked up in their spare time.

He opened the door, letting himself in regardless of any other present employees.  The place was as he expected: a hotbed of various household animals either sitting in kennels, or playing around in the various enclosures.  Weirdly enough, there was a table in the middle of a room displaying a bunny, a purple and green dog, and a sheep wearing a woolen jumper playing a game of cards.

They weren’t like zoo animals.  In other words; contained a sense of loyalty to humans.  Just disgusting.  That was what he felt about assistance: why should he ask or accept help if he was already skilled at what he did?  Assistants and minions always slowed things down, he spoke from experience.

Just then, he heard the front door being opened.  He ducked out of sight, but just in the correct position to observe whoever it was that entered into the building.  He was stunned outright by the result.

She was a human girl, high school age, with mellow yellow skin, flowing pink hair, dressed homely in a cyan skirt with a magenta tie outlining her waist, and that should’ve been it…

But those eyes.

Those.  Eyes.

From her position, in a beautiful teal-color, they glittered in the sunlight as if they were gemstones. She seemed stressed out, but that made them only shine brighter through the tears.

Beautiful. Luscious.

Diamonds.

This girl, a shy and timid looking teenager, had diamonds in her eyes.

Truly, a girl of her beauty deserved such luscious treasures.  Of being a treasure.

And that treasure, the one who was standing right before his very eyes, beckoned him to jump out and snatch it right up.

Suddenly, the doors opened again, sending him into a jump back into hiding.  He peered out to watch the diamond-eyed girl, observing with mental notes, seeing her turn around and smile at the visitor.

The visitor was another girl, about the same age, this time with snow-white skin, pampered and curled violet hair, wearing a simple yet elegant cream blouse and light-violet skirt, and…

Holy diamonds.

Her eyes shone like diamonds just like the other girl, but not as brightly, but that wasn’t what he concerned himself with.  There was a beautiful jeweled necklace around the second girl’s small neck.  It was small to medium size, surrounded by a silver outline, and the centerpiece was a diamond.  An honest to God diamond, being worn by a high school girl.  He looked again.  All of the jewelry she was wearing were splattered with diamonds, and yet she spoke with a voice that sounded upper-class and not at the same time.

Whether that was the case or not.  What was the case was that the two girls standing before him, from where he looked up from his position, were like living and breathing beautiful and luscious diamonds.

The diamond gods were smiling down on the little penguin, if they were willing to present him with such wonderful treasures.  He made it a rule to never sell anything if it contained diamonds, of course these treasures would be much harder to contain, but it would be worth it in the end…

If only to see those eyes shine, and to have those…

Diamonds.

Diamonds were truly a penguin’s best friend.

The front doors opened again, this time to reveal Wallace and Gromit, with the former wearing his perpetual trademark neighborly smile.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted.

“Good afternoon, Wallace, Gromit,” Rarity replied.

Wallace soon became distracted by the shine on her collarbone.  “Ohhh, just look at this.”

“You like it?”

“Why it’s positively smashing, Rarity.  Never before have I ever seen such a splendid and wonderful looking gem.”

“It’s a diamond infused into a silver necklace.  It was a gift from my grandfather, who was a renowned diamond collector.  During his twilight years, he put up all of his collection for auction, but he kept this one, and he gave it to me.”

“He must have really loved you.”

“Yes,” she said, reminiscing while caressing the gem.  “He certainly did.”

“Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.  Anyway,” Wallace shook his head clear, “Gromit and I have just come over to give Fluttershy the good news.”

“O-oh really?” Fluttershy stammered.  “W-what good news?”

“You’re going to like this one, lass.  We’ve just entered a fundraiser for the Balloon Festival tomorrow to raise money for the Animal Shelter.”

Fluttershy froze for a moment at the revelation, then gave the inventor a shy but loving smile, then she leapt into a soft hug around him.  “That’s wonderful, Wallace.  Thank you both so much.”

“It was no trouble, lass.  Just trying to help out a good friend.”

“Hold on, how did you know about the Shelter?” Rarity asked.

“I must confess that we did, um, overhear your conversation this morning.  It was actually Gromit’s idea.”

Fluttershy then knelt down and gave Gromit another kind and loving hug.  “Thank you too, Gromit.”

“Say, uh, how’s Shaun doing?”

“Oh, uh,” she stammered, getting up.  “H-He’s doing alright, I think.”

Wallace then looked to see the aforementioned sheep sitting at a table playing cards with Spike and Angel Bunny, right as Shaun took a card from the deck to munch.

“Well, he seems alright to my eyes.  It’s nice to see that he’s made some friends on his own,” Wallace commented, earning a facepalm from Angel.

“Well, it was nice to stop by, but right now Gromit and I have to get busy.  The Festival’s tomorrow and we’ve got a fundraiser to put up and a hot-air balloon to build.”

“Are you sure you can accomplish all that by tomorrow?” Rarity asked.

“If we could build a rocket to the moon in one week in time for the Bank Holiday, then building a homemade hot-air balloon should be a piece of cake.  In fact, I feel chuffed about all of this!  Nothing could possibly go wrong.”

Wallace and Gromit left the Shelter feeling a better spring in their steps.  Rarity smiled.  “Well, Fluttershy, I would say that things are starting to look up around here.”

“I would say they are,” Fluttershy replied, meekly beaming.

“Tell you what, darling, how about we get ourselves some refreshments?  My treat.”

“Oh, no, Rarity, I couldn’t allow you to do that.”

“Oh, pish posh, darling.  Anything for you.”

Fluttershy thought for a moment, then meekly nodded.  “Okay then.  If you say so.”

“You’re such a dear, you know that?”

Angel Bunny mimicked the remark with a shake of his head, watching the two friends leave the shelter feeling in higher spirits.  He couldn’t help but feel glad for the cheesy man and his dog.

He looked up from his cards just in time to see a funny-looking penguin hiding behind a corner near the front doors, where he would have had a full view of anyone who entered.  The penguin looked to the table, Angel ducked behind the cards to avoid the gaze.

“C’mon, Angel. It’s your turn,” Spike huffed.

Angel glared while playing his turn, then looked again to see that the penguin had disappeared.

Even while distracted by the card game, he felt a lingering presence that told him nothing but bad vibes came from that penguin.  It was a penguin, what harm could it do?

So why did he worry for Fluttershy’s safety when concerning the bird, even if it was a penguin?





The clear skies were not as clear the following Saturday.  It was close to midday and down by the Cloudsdale Airfields the grassy fields were dotted with various colorations and unique designs of hot-air balloons, all currently anchored firmly into the ground.  The windsock was picking up a slight breeze emitting from the Western Seaboard, no doubt from that storm that was rocking California and Oregon.

Gromit sat behind the stand he and Wallace put up for the fundraiser, a simple construction of various wooden planks at odd angles and nails bent in directions that shouldn’t even be plausible.  The sign “Save the Canterlot Animal Shelter” was in danger of losing grip, or just plainly dangling into a swinging position from a lone nail.

Suddenly, while reading a magazine for doggy treats, Pinkie Pie appeared.  “Hiya, Gromit!”

Gromit nearly fell out of his seat, then he caught onto the stand for balance.

“I saw your fundraiser when I arrived and I was like, ‘I simply must give my money away to that fundraiser.  I just couldn’t handle myself to see Fluttershy so broken-hearted about it closing down and leaving all of the animals homeless on the street, begging for food, only to be run over by a passing truck when they’re unaware.”

Pinkie paused her tirade, huffing to catch her breath, while Gromit hid himself behind his magazine.

“Anyway,” she pulled out a set of dollars before dropping them into the crude “donations” box, “there’s my donation of sixty-seven dollars and thirty-four cents.  Enjoy the show!  I know I will.”  She suddenly gasped.  “Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, there’s the balloon salesman!”

Gromit watched as she dashed off in a sugar-powered blur, blinking without much thought about the pink-haired walking candy store that was Pinkie Pie.  In truth, she was kind of scary.

Presently, Wallace came up to the stand holding a flathead screwdriver.  “Preparations are nearly complete.  It just needs a few minor adjustments and then we are go for launch.  How’re the donations coming on?  The festival’s starting soon, and I’m pretty sure everyone who’s come through has come through already.”

Gromit set down his magazine, grabbing the donations box before shaking it, letting loose multiple clinking sounds of various sized coins and bouncing stacks of bills from the more privileged donors.

“Wha heee!  I just knew this fundraiser would work a treat, lad.  Fluttershy is going to be so proud of us for helping her out of such a spot of bother, and of course coming from an animal lover myself, it just wouldn’t be prudent to leave those poor animals without a chance of finding a real home with a caring family.”

“Attention all participants,” came the announcement over the loudspeaker.  “The launching hour begins in five minutes.  I’d suggest you all make your way to your balloons right now.”

“Righto!  Come on, Gromit, we’ve got a liftoff to catch!”

Wallace rushed off faster than Gromit could prepare himself, when Pinkie suddenly appeared out of nowhere yet again, this time holding a bunch of balloons in her hand.  “Don’t worry, Gromit, I Pinkie Promise to look after your fundraiser until you return.  Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a cupcake in my eye!”

Gromit anxiously nodded, then made his way across the field to where Wallace was tinkering with the added motor to their homemade hot-air balloon.

“All set, Gromit,” he smiled.  He then got up and entered the basket, fiddling with a set of levers connected to the miniature motor attached to the backend of the basket.  The propane tank of gas lit up the insides.  “Haha!  This’ll go down a treat, eh, lad?  All these balloons and our’s is the only one with a fully functioning propeller.”

“The balloons are set to launch in thirty seconds,” the announcement came.

“Come on, Gromit.  Shake a leg, it’s nearly time to start.”

As the other balloons began lifting into the air, Gromit quickly undid the tether that kept their balloon anchored, but just as he did Wallace fired up the propulsion sending the balloon hurling into the sky leaving Gromit to dangle for dear life from the tether flopping in the wind.

“Isn’t the view splendid from up here, Gromit?” Wallace commented, oblivious to his dog’s situation.  “I can actually see our house from way up here!  And look, there’s the cheese shop!  He heee, talk about a bird’s eye view, eh, lad?”

Back down on Terra Firma, the stands were packed with families, balloon enthusiasts, and families with balloon enthusiasts.  Rainbow Dash took a drink from her gatorade bottle (#notsponsored) eyeing a particular balloon with the face of a perpetually smiling cheese-loving inventor and his dog, with the dog dangling by a thread.  She shrugged, then wiped her sweating forehead with her sleeve.

“Ah gotta hand it to them boys,” Applejack remarked.  “They sure know howta build a balloon.”

“I’m still unsure about the abundance of cactus-green,” Rarity remarked.

“I like how Wallace thought to input a motorized engine.  It’s very ingenious,” Twilight beamed.

“Of course you would say that,” Rainbow grumbled.

“I think it looks nice,” Fluttershy smiled.

Wallace looked down from his balloon.  “Hey, look down there, Gromit!  I can see Twilight and the others watching us from the stands!”  He waved from above.

Twilight waved back.

Rarity smiled, shaking her head at her friend’s antics, before taking a moment to admire the diamond encrusted necklace on her person.  She took great notice at how it sparkled in the midday light.

She wasn’t the only one admiring the necklace.  From behind the bleachers, where no one could see his beady eyes, the penguin looked at the diamond with lust, and the girl with diamond-eyes next to the girl who wore the diamonds.  He then looked up at the balloon carrying the bumbling inventor and the nosy dog, noticing how he fiddled with the controls that worked the small motor engine at the back.

He looked over to the stand that had a wooden box for donations to the Animal Shelter, then back to the balloon.

A plan was beginning to form.

He disappeared as suddenly as he appeared, missing being noticed by the other attendees.
> III. Looming Threat
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, Gromit, that seemed to have gone better than we expected, eh?” Wallace grinned.

Gromit was nursing his head with an ice pack after crash landing from his fall from the balloon into the popcorn cart.  On the plus side, he got a bucket of freshly-popped popcorn free of charge on account of the stand lying in rubble.

Right now, the duo were making their way over to the Animal Shelter to deliver the shabby wooden box full of their hard earned donations.  They didn’t notice that a certain beady-eyed penguin had just exited the Shelter through the front doors, when he suddenly froze at the sight of them.

He ducked behind a bush in view of the Shelter’s main entrance, taking note of the “Help Wanted” sign plastered on the front doors.

Wallace dusted down his vest while Gromit hid away the ice pack into a nearby bush, missing the sound of a painful grunt, right as Fluttershy came to answer their knocking.

“O-oh, hi, Wallace, Gromit,” she greeted.

“Hallo, Fluttershy,” Wallace replied.  “Many a pleasant afternoon as well.  Gromit and I have just stopped by to drop off our donation box.”

He handed her the box of donations.

“All for a good cause, m’dear,” he beamed.

Fluttershy was close to shaking.  “I-I don’t know what to say.  How much is in here?”

“Close to about one-hundred and seventy-nine dollars and fifty-six cents.  That should be more than enough to afford hiring more employees, and possibly a few pounds of treats for the animals.”

Gromit virtually tuned out the conversation between the two humans, instead focusing on his tub of popcorn.  Suddenly, a quiet rustling from the bushes caught his attention.  Nothing moved, not even a leaf.  He looked away for a moment, when he heard the rustling again, and this time he noticed the “Help Wanted” sign had been torn from where it was stuck.

He furrowed his brow in suspicion.

“Oh, I do believe now would be the perfect time to pick up Shaun,” Wallace said.

“I’ll get him.  Just wait a minute,” Fluttershy replied.  She went away to set down the box on a nearby desk, before turning to the card table.  “C’mon, Shaun, it’s time to go home.”

Shaun dropped his cards before hopping off his seat and walking to the front door, baaing farewell to his card-playing buddies.  “You too, Spike.  Twilight’s expecting you home anytime soon.”

“Aw rats, already?” Spike grumbled, relenting.  “Alright, see ya tomorrow, Angel.  Gotta dash.”  He hurried out of the building, but not before yelling back from the abyss.  “And I definitely won that round!”

Angel Bunny rolled his eyes in irritation, grinning in satisfaction.  Between a sheep that loved eating everything, and a dog that wouldn’t shut his yap, he felt confident in his tactics at playing poker.

“Right then.  We’ll be on our way then.  It’s nearly teatime.  Ta-ta!”

“Oh, i-if you don’t mind, I’d be glad to host tea for you,” Fluttershy offered.

“No thank you, we’ll be quite alright,” Wallace politely declined.  “The Shelter’s not going to run itself, luv.  Have a good one!”

“Goodbye, Wallace!  Goodbye, Gromit!  Goodbye, Shaun!” Fluttershy waved, closing the doors.

Shaun baaed again, following right behind Wallace.  Gromit started walking, then hesitated when he heard another set of rustling from behind the bush.  This time, he decided not to shrug it off due to such things as a squirrel or rabbit.  He crept forward, careful not to disturb whatever was lurking from behind the twigs and leaves making sure that his popcorn was a distance away from disaster should it strike.  He reached out a cautious hand, inches turned into centimeters from the first leaf…

…when a stray chipmunk jumped out from the brambles, startling Gromit enough to lose a few stray kernels.  The chipmunk nabbed the kernels and took off in a flash, leaving behind a bemused canine with a popcorn bucket.

“Come on, Gromit!  It’s your turn to choose the flavor of cheese!”

The call of his master snapped him from his daze.  He stole one last glance at the bush, then took off down the sidewalk on all fours with the handle in his mouth.

The penguin glanced out from his hiding place, wiping a flipper over his forehead.  Many times that dog had given him more trouble than he was worth; he had to be extra careful not to arouse his suspicions this early again.

Holding the sign in his flipper he knocked on the front doors.  He was lucky to have found a place that was in financial jeopardy, otherwise he would have to have risked lodging.

The diamond-eyed girl opened the door, looked around in confusion, then looked down on the penguin.  “Oh, you poor poor thing!  You shouldn’t be out here in the heat, especially if you’re a penguin!”

He allowed her to scoop him up like a common housecat, before entering the breeziness of the cool inside of the air conditioned Shelter.  Not much was different, other than all of the whining and complaining of the other scruffy animals.  Luckily she placed him in an enclosure that was more isolated from the other, in terms of community and temperature; being a small kiddie pool surrounded by electric fans and an exposed A/C vent.

“I’m sorry if your accommodations aren’t exactly…a-accomodating enough,” she apologized.  Her eyes were looking very apologetic, making the diamond-esque sparkle even more apparent and longing.  “I-I’m sure there is some food I can find for you.  Uh,” she fiddled with a strand of her hair, “d-do you have any preferences to fish?”

He cocked his head, then shook it.  He could’ve sworn she tried to hide her relief.

“O-okay then, I’ll go find some fish for you.  I’m sure there are some left, but please don’t eat the live fish in the tanks, okay?”

She left back into the kitchen area, leaving the penguin with his thoughts.  He pondered on how much more of a good look he was given of the girl, and his conclusions were that not a single piece of her body outshined those wonderful diamond eyes.  But he remembered that she was only the first bird of two to kill with a single stone; there were still plenty of loose ends to cover up before the big play.

He hopped out of the pool, wiping his feathers dry, then made his way across the area where the other caged animals were whining for their food like beggars until he reached his destination.  He used the desk drawer handles as ladder rungs to climb up to the top, before taking out the rolled up “Help Wanted” sign, then dropped it into the shredder.

As he did so, he noticed a white rabbit, smaller than him, was about to peer into a room across the hallway.  Yet another nosy little mangy mongrel.

Angel had his suspicions about the penguin when he first glanced at him, and most were confirmed when he picked up an unrecognized but vaguely familiar feeling with the door that was marked “Employees Only”.  Usually he recognized it as being exclusive to the boss, until he remembered that the boss had his own shift during the school days instead of weekends.  It was opened by a crack when it was normally fully closed.

He was about to enter when he was lifted up by the grips of his long ears and carried along over the ground, until he was hurled into the air only to smack face-first onto the billboard that held the calendar and a couple of achievements dedicated to the employees.  Angel plopped onto the hard surface of the front desk, rubbing his forehead in pain, then looked up to see the expressionless face of the dreaded penguin.  All the penguin was doing to intimidate him was simply staring and blinking, without making the slightest nudge of his body, and it was kind of working on him.

Everything about the penguin was giving off horrible suspense-filled precursors, all of them seeming to focus on his shy but kind owner.  Angel stood his ground, pointing a scowling arm at the technical intruder in a warning to leave Fluttershy alone if he knew what was good for him.

The penguin didn’t respond immediately, or at all that was readable about his character, and instead rushed forward and grabbed Angel by the ears again, this time hurling him across the building into a head-on collision with the food dispenser.  The crash was instantaneous, smashing the device without effort and scattering the animal food all over the floor, creating a makeshift minefield of hazardous materials.

The penguin quickly hopped off the desk, rushed right past the dazed Angel Bunny, before hopping back into his designated pool right as Fluttershy came out of the kitchen area.

She gasped at the mess.  “Angel!”

He looked up at her with dazed confusion.

The next thing he knew she had hustled him out the back door of the land and into the designated exercising and outdoor play area for the mammal quadruped animals, and whenever Angel had misbehaved.

“I never thought you would stoop so low, mister.  I am very disappointed in you,” Fluttershy scorned.

Angel flapped his arms with a pleading look.

“I don’t want any excuses from you.  You are going to stay out here and are no longer allowed inside until you feel sorry for yourself for ruining the only food source some of the other animals have.”

Angel shamefully walked out of the backdoor, barring his eyes away from the disappointed stare his owner was giving him.  He rubbed his arm in shame as his ears flopped down, sagging against the ground, not caring if they became mucky from the grime.  He kicked a pebble down the flattened grass, ignoring the painful cries of an earthworm.  He never liked it when his owner scowled at him, even if he felt he deserved it; it was worse when it wasn’t justified.

After taking a good number of paces out into the vastness of the back area, the backdoor closed behind him.  Angel looked back, watching his owner sag her head in misery, turning away and disappearing into the rest of the building.

Behind her, the penguin stood, also watching Fluttershy walk away in the building.  Angel instinctively leaped out of sight, feeling scared for his life about that emotionless bird.  His concerns turned to suspicion, creeping across the lawn to the bushes underneath a windowsill.  He lifted himself up, taking care to avoid colliding with a potted plant.

Getting an idea, he plucked out the plant and buried himself in it to get a better view.  He saw the penguin typing on the desktop keyboard that belonged to the Shelter, having placed it on top of the donations box.  From his perspective, Angel couldn’t see what the penguin was looking up, but he paused for a couple of moments to take a few notes in his notebook.  He then moved the mouse up the mousepad before clicking on something; from the gaze in his eyes, Angel figured it greatly pleased the penguin.

Just then, the penguin peered over in Angel’s direction, just in time for Angel to duck and cover enough to shift the pot off the edge of the sill and crash down into the rose bushes.

“Alright, everyone,” Fluttershy’s angelic voice spoke.  “I’m heading out now, but I’ll be back soon.  Now you all behave yourselves, okay?”

The penguin sat on the spacebar of the keyboard, holding his fins together and nodding with a faux halo over his head.  Fluttershy smiled again, this time waving with her fingers before departing the building.  The penguin then hopped off the keyboard, removing the donation box from underneath the keyboard in time for a knock on the front doors.

“Here’s your order,” the delivery man said.  “Just need you to sign here to verify your purchase.”

The man looked down to see the penguin open the box, showing off all of the shining and enticing bills and coins.

“Very generous, sir.”  He took the box and quickly drove off in his van.

The penguin cupped his flippers together in victory.  Finally, he was given a long needed break in his planning.  He carried the box inside the shelter, then noticed all of the animals longing at all of the still spilt food.  Getting an idea, he dropped off the box in his private room, before carefully sweeping up all of the food, filling up every single tray.

Before handing them off to the animals, he added a little dose of a formula he had prepared for a moment such as this. He took care to only add a single drop per food bowl, then carefully handed off the bowls and food sources, dreading the possibility of a potential liability.

A great dane ate from his bowl, then a tabby brown cat, then some fish, another dog, a set of weasel siblings, until one by one every single animal in the entire stinking Shelter had fallen asleep.

He checked the time on the wall.  There wasn’t much time left, it had to all be ready by tonight.

He hopped back onto the desk, seeing that the girl had foolishly left her phone behind in a charging port.  It didn’t even have a lock-screen keycode, despite it being customary for most every modern device.  He stifled a laugh, then remembered that everyone else was asleep, and then he laughed. Clutching it in his left flipper, he exited through the backdoor and around the building onto the sidewalk.

Angel Bunny had noticed that he was carrying Fluttershy’s phone in his mits, and that he had left the door closed, and locked. Angel had a key, having hid it within the bush he was lurking out of, only there was a slight hitch.

He couldn’t reach the handle at his highest bounce. He thumped his foot in annoyance, understanding what his situation required; as much as he hated to admit it. 

He needed help big time.





Gromit sat in his armchair in the front room, not really paying attention to the program he had turned on to distract himself.  He was sitting in concentration with the poster leaflet in his hand.  A memento he’d forgotten to throw out some time ago.

Wallace then entered the front door, tired and sighing.  “I feel knackered, Gromit.  That job on the road five blocks down took more effort than I thought, so I left the machine down there on standby so that I would be ready to go in the morning tomorrow.”



In truth, Wallace wasn’t able to even get started on the job, on account of the painting arms horribly malfunctioning, 

"Come, on, stupid...!"

taking up all his time that the work timer on the machine had run out, leaving it stuck there until the next day.



Back at their home, Wallace chose to forget about his reminiscing in a nice little cuisine he prepared for himself, sitting down in the other armchair with a teatray consisting of a plate of fresh Stilton and crackers with a nice cup of tea.  Presently, he noticed Gromit’s concentrated muzzle.

“What are you looking at there, lad?” he asked.

Gromit looked up, presenting a wanted poster of an orange-beaked, black and white-bellied, and beady-eyed bird.  It looked like a penguin, it could’ve been one if it weren’t for the red-glove on the head making it look like a strange-looking chicken.  At the top were the words “Have You Seen This Chicken?” and at the bottom read “£1000 Reward”.

Wallace recognized it immediately, almost scowling.  “Is that the poster for that diamond burglar Feathers McGraw?”

Gromit nodded.

“And you still have it?  Whatever for?”

Gromit hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders, still unsure himself.

“Well, I don’t see why you have to worry yourself about that pilfering bird.  He’s safely locked up where he should be, tucked away from eyeing up any sort of diamond.  And, if he did somehow end up in Canterlot, he would be thoroughly disappointed about the lack of any diamonds to filch.”

Gromit pondered at his master’s words, letting the poster fall from his hand and onto the floor.  It was true that the last he heard of the dreaded penguin he had been locked behind metal bars and hard stone bricks.

Yet considering all that, he still couldn’t help but feel a pit in his stomach.  That same feeling of dread when he spied on Feathers measuring up the side window of the Wallaby Street Museum.

Behind all of the shine and glamor of Canterlot City, something felt wrong.
> IV. The Plot Thickens
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike didn’t mind playing outdoor activities like a regular run-of-the-mill dog, even if it was catching the frisbee close to sundown.  It gave not only him a reason to get out of the house and stretch his doggy legs and exercise, but also enough reason to force his shut-in owner to at least step out of her dingy laboratory and stop and smell the roses.  If not the roses, then at least to jog in her running shoes to keep her leg bones from catching an early case of arthritis.

And if she didn’t shriek at every passing bumble or honey bee that was on its way home to the hive, it could’ve been more enjoyable had she properly aimed the frisbee to where he didn’t have to jump into the wildflowers to retrieve it, thereby risking to catch an allergy to pollen. Was it even possible to catch allergies that way?

Spike once again stuck his head in the flower bush after yet another poor excuse of a frisbee throw, only to find a familiar looking white bunny rabbit stroking his head in pain while the frisbee disk was laying right next to him.

“Angel?  What are you doing here? I was supposed to see you tomorrow.”

Spike’s questioning was interrupted by a small white paw firmly placing itself over his muzzle, stifling an out loud annoyed sigh.  Angel then indicated with his other paw in a shushing motion, then nodded his head in Twilight’s direction.

“What do you need me for, dude?”

Angel fiercely indicated again, this time pointing to the both of them, saying that the two of them needed to talk in private.  This is important, and you need to keep this between ourselves only.

“Spike?” Twilight called out.  “Where are you?”

Angel shooed Spike out.  Spike stuck out his head, still facing the bush with the insistent rabbit.  “Uh, sorry, Twilight!  I’m uh, needed elsewhere!  I’ll be back later!”

“Oh, um, o-okay then!”

He didn’t wait for a response, or couldn’t wait as Angel dragged him back into the bush without another moment’s hesitation.  Instead, he threw out the frisbee in Spike’s place, conking Twilight right in the glasses. "Ow, my glasses!"

Spike was confused, considering that he was attending a secret meeting in a flower bush; in the park of all places. “Okay, so, what do you need my help for?”

Angel sighed, beginning to explain to the magical talking dog to the best of his abilities, through squeaks and body gestures.  He saw that Spike was trying to listen, but had a hard time following along.  He was feeling desperate, growing upsettingly impatient.

“Woah, woah, slow down, man.  What’s the matter?”

Angel buried his face into his paws, holding back whatever was supposed to be crying tears.  His owner was in danger of a sinister aquatic bird, and here he was wasting his time trying to clearly communicate to an animal that could clearly communicate with humans in place of animals.

Spike felt flustered at the bunny nearly crying.  “O-okay, so uh, I think I got what you’re trying to say.  Something about a penguin and Fluttershy, I think?  Is that right?”

Angel looked up from his vulnerable state, nodding fiercely with elation.  It was a less-than basic understanding of the events, but it was good enough.

“And you need help with something to do with this…whatever it is, right?”

Angel nodded again, breathing with heavy relief.

“Okay, man.  I’ll help you out.  Gives me an excuse to get away from Twilight’s poor skills at a frisbee.”

Angel impatiently tapped his foot, causing Spike to chuckle.  “Ahehe, sorry about that.  Where do we start?”

Angel looked around, then indicated Spike to follow him through the brambles.  He peered out onto the sidewalk, watching for anyone to come by.  It seemed empty so far, considering it was close to being the very end of the day, but the aura of the sunset wasn’t giving off a feeling of comfort, rather an anticipated sense of sinister plotting.

Spike poked his head out beside Angel’s, and seemed to harbor the same feelings of dread, like something crooked was about to occur.  Neither of them seemed to like the feelings that were dragging their stomachs.

Suddenly, Angel shoved the both of them back into hiding, eyes wide and holding both of their mouths clamped shut, hoping that their stagnated breathing didn’t give them away.  When he felt brave enough, he poked his eyes through the twigs to see the penguin smoothly walking along the sidewalk past them without a second glance.  He noticed that there was something in the left flipper, with very similar designs and color palettes.

It was Fluttershy’s cell phone, in the hands of the sinister penguin.

Spike watched the penguin, noticing Angel’s leery eyes.  “That’s him, right?” he whispered.

Angel carefully shifted out of the brambles, Spike following him, ducking behind positions while keeping on foot with the steely bird.  Whatever he was planning, he must’ve been extremely clever enough to risk being exposed and so far out of range of the Animal Shelter, and with Fluttershy’s phone in his mits.  He carried himself so calm and collectively, it reeked of evil…or just plain suspicion.

The penguin looked behind him when he stopped, making sure that he wasn’t being followed, checking around all possible perspectives.  Anyone could be watching from anywhere, but all he got was a cluster of empty roads and sidewalks.  Never minding his suspicions, he crept forward with the greatest of secrecy, spotting his target.

High up, hidden within the thick clusters of leaves of a tree, Angel and Spike watched as the penguin clambered up the side of the trestle, then hopped onto the window ledge, peering into the lit up room.

“Hey, wait a minute, this is Rarity’s house,” Spike whispered in realization.

Angel closed his mouth, noticing the penguin flinch a tad.  He glanced around, but heard nothing further, and Angel relaxed his grip, glaring at the sheepish dog.

The penguin looked into the room of the house, watching with great care and concentration at the room’s only occupant, waiting for the appropriate moment to make his move.

Rarity was busy grooming her hair in the mirror, humming as she did so.  She didn’t have much else planned for the weekend, as her family’s store was closed on Sundays, so she opted to distract herself with grooming, hoping to catch a brainwave of some sorts.

She was just about to move to filing her nails, when she received an alert.  Curious as to who could be daft enough to send her messages this late in the evening, never minding that it was the weekend.  Even stranger, it was a message from Fluttershy of all people.



Read at 8:56 p.m.
Fluttershy: Hi, Rarity.  Could you meet me at the Animal Shelter at around 11:00?  I’ve got something I want to show you.  And please bring all jewelry that contains diamonds.  I’ll explain everything when we meet up.



Rarity was perplexed out of her mind.  Why would Fluttershy of all people want to stay up late?  And wasn’t she already off of work at this hour?  Even more importantly, what interest did she have in her jewelry, let alone the diamond ones?

Well, she did say that she would explain everything when they would meet, and Fluttershy was one of her closest friends, and probably one of the most trusting people she knew.




Today at 8:59 p.m.
Rarity: Sure thing!  I’ll be right over as you say.




The whole thing felt strange, borderline suspicious.  If Fluttershy wasn’t being sincere, Rarity would have to prepare for the absolute worst, dreading that her friend was in danger.

A noise from outside her window shot her vision towards the glass pane.  She carefully peered out every viable direction in curiosity, feeling on edge from Fluttershy’s message.  When she found nothing, she closed the blinds, out of caution of a potential stalker or onlooker.

Standing out of view of the window off to the side, the penguin clutched the glowing phone pressed against his stomach in an effort to block out the ringtone and the blinding glow.  Turning it off, he wiped his forehead with relief.  This career never got any less stressful.

He hopped off the sill, climbing down the trestle with one flipper gripping onto one of the vines allowing himself to casually slide to a calm and careful landing on the soft grass.  Now that an important piece of the game was now in place, he set his focus on one last major obstacle that needed a hint of improvising.  So far, he believes to have thought up a solution, it was only a matter of putting it to work.

Suddenly, a crack from overhead froze him up.  He looked up to see a leaf casually flutter to the ground in front of him, leering at the thing until it settled.  A scutter caught his senses in time to see a squirrel scamper down the tree and out of sight into the undergrowth.

He quickened his pace down the sidewalk, not caring a cent that he walked right onto the leaf, squishing the poor caterpillar that was munching away on his dinner flat into gel.

Up in the tree, Spike looked down in shock at the state of the caterpillar, trying not to shiver.  Angel glared in the direction of the penguin, brushing his chin in suspicion.  He watched as he sent a message to who he assumed to be Rarity, but for what reason?  What connection did the drama-queen fashion-girl have to the growing conspiracy surrounding the penguin?

“So, now what?” Spike asked.

Angel led Spike all the way back to the Animal Shelter, crawling and sneaking through the undergrowth around the building to the back door.  He motioned for Spike to stand on his hind legs right beneath the door handle, before climbing up the dog and onto his head.  He readied himself, then leapt up to grab the handle, then took out the key he had hidden for various occasions such as this.

He unlocked the door, only to find he couldn’t push it open using his frail bunny strength.  He sighed in defeat, then waved down to Spike, indicating by unsuccessfully shoving against the doorframe.  Spike nodded, then pressed his body, pushing with all his might until the door finally gave way into opening enough for them to enter.

“Whew, that wasn’t so hard,” Spike said.

Angel dropped from the handle, stepping inside.  Immediately, the both of them recognized that something was off.  Everything and everyone was completely silent, save for the quiet sighs of snoozing house-pets, even from the fish.

“That’s weird,” Spike remarked.  “Are they usually asleep at this hour?”

Angel shook his worried head.  Suspicious, Spike walked up to one of the food bowls, surprised that the dogs were sleeping with a bowl that was barely half empty.  That just was not possible for these animals, no matter their feelings.  He sniffed at the food, then a quick taste of a small pellet, spitting it out in disgust.

“Ugh, gross!  What is in this stuff?”

Angel caught his companion’s grumblings, which only grew his suspicions.  Coupled with the fact that the entire floor had been cleared away of discarded food, which he was thankful to his owner for, something else didn’t add up.

“Hey, I found something!”  Spike had followed the scent of the food to the nearest trash can, where he pulled out an empty bottle labeled “Sleep Away: Get Your Animals To Sleep Without Any Consideration Whatsoever”.  “I think they’ve been drugged. Weird how there's no label.”

Angel nodded in agreement.  It seemed that this penguin was becoming even more and more dangerous with each passing revelation after another, and it all appeared to lead to something big; whatever it was, it meant danger to his owner.

“Something on your mind?” Spike asked.

Getting an idea, Angel walked up to the door from before, hopping up to open it wide.  Inside was mostly left unchanged, apart from the cluttered mess of the desk.  The two pets climbed up onto the top, finding a large notebook in the middle, next to an oversized cloth sack, a bundle of rope, a long rolled-up length of soft cloth, and a picture that was supposed to depict Fluttershy and all her friends, only for a cutout picture of the penguin taped right next to her to cover up everyone besides Rarity.

Spike opened the notebook, suspicious, and gaped.  “Get a load of this, Angel.”

Five pages in, a detailed sketch of Fluttershy was depicted next to a height measurement of five feet and four inches.  Right next to it was Fluttershy again, only in a crouching position and surrounded by a pencil sketch of a circle.  On the next page was a bulging circle next to a rough sketch of the penguin depicted in a basket of a hot-air balloon.  The strangest part wasn’t the penguin in a balloon, only the fact that he was drawn wearing a small glove.

Angel gaped at the detailed sketch of his owner, then scowled at the thought of her being violated by the penguin.

“This just seems to answer less questions than before,” Spike quipped.  “Just what is the penguin up to?”

Just as they were about to further peak into the deepest buried sketches, a loud rhythmic beeping noise from outside sent them scurrying.  Spike lost his balance on the stool, dragging down the cloth sack and rope in an attempt to correct his balance.  Angel grabbed the items, setting them back in place before hopping onto Spike’s back as he ran them both out of the room with panting sweat and speeding paws.

Just as they made it outside, Spike forced himself against the door sliding it shut, immediately followed by Angel leaping up to lock it firmly, then swiftly throwing it into a nearby shrub.  The two of them then bolted along the side of the building, stopping in their tracks at the sight parked right on the side of the road right across.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Spike hissed.  “That’s Wallace’s road machine.”

Parked with the port-side caterpillar track at an angle over the side of the road, the road machine was slowly moving in reverse to the beating that was custom for all larger than life machinery, or the ones that were built larger than the standard van and had very dangerous blind spots.  There was an amber warning light that was flashing above the cab following the rhythm of the beeping.

Then the light went dead, and the machine came to halt.  The engine slowly died down, followed by the sound of the cab door opening, from the unseen starboard side.  The sounds of calm and collective webbed feet patting against the ground echoed throughout the empty street, and from around the backside of the machine came a walking slab of metal that was shaped into a crude-looking slope.  The metal slope turned to be placed on top of the tread, hanging by a gap underneath the giant tub, where a trapdoor was located, to reveal the penguin wearing a red glove on his head.

“He looks really stupid wearing that thing,” Spike whispered.

Luckily, the penguin was too busy admiring the look of his trademark gloved hat to register the soft hissing of an unseen voice.  He especially enjoyed the look of his dashing figure as he slicked back his gloved hat, making sure that it was positioned on his head in a straight manner.

Once he was finished with himself, he turned his attention to the trapdoor.  Standing aside where he felt would be a safe position, he pulled the pin out of the lock, causing the door to drop down onto the metal slope and sending out seven tons worth of hot melted tarmac, sloping down and dropping into a pouring motion on the empty nighttime street.

Not bothering to wait to watch the street be filled up, he walked along the tread to hop right off the end, then calmly walked across the clean portion of the street and onto the sidewalk.  Peering across his surroundings for the final time, he carefully entered the Animal Shelter, making sure that he aroused no one by slowly and concisely closing the door with a quiet click of the handle.

Once inside, he then made his way over to the room past the sleeping animals, completely missing a duo of pets creeping past the front door, then breaking into a run once they were out of view of the Shelter.

“We need to get help!” Spike panted.  “Wait, where are you leading us?”

Angel Bunny had a lead on the talking dog, and allowed his scents to bring over to the place he intended.

“Why am I smelling cheese?”





“Monterey Jack, mmm,” Wallace happily grinned, holding a cracker with a fresh slice.  “We've definitely hit the market on cheese this time, Gromit.”

The moment he was about to take his first bite was the moment when something big and ferocious crashed into the front door, causing Wallace to wobble in place, dropping his plate and cheese in a crushing crash.

He quickly opened the door allowing the dazed and confused Spike and Angel Bunny to topple over through the entryway.

“Oh, uh, um…evening, lads,” Wallace stammered.

“Hey, Wallace,” Spike groaned, clutching his head.

By this point, Gromit had arrived downstairs from his room where he was knitting.

“Uh, what brings you two all the way out here at this hour, then?” Wallace asked.

At that moment, Angel began hopping like mad and throwing his arms about in exasperation, keeping a terrified look on his face, hoping beyond hope that this man would be able to understand his plight.

“Uh, what are you trying to say lad?” Wallace said, trying to follow along.

Angel was becoming more desperate, trying with anything he could to communicate the danger.  Just then, he spotted the poster in the front room.  He rushed inside, getting a good look on the face of the depicted criminal. His eyes widened with grim realization, then presented it to all who were present in the house.

Spike lit up like a lighter.  “That’s him!”

“Who’s him?  Whatever do you mean?” Wallace asked.

“That’s the penguin we’re trying to tell you about!  He’s going to do something to Rarity and Fluttershy, and for some reason he’s stolen your machine and emptied out all of the tarmac, and Angel thought to come here!”

Wallace and Gromit both shared looks of complete shock and terror, then looked back to the poster in the bunny’s paws.  Their emoting faces did not go unnoticed.  It was as if in five seconds they became entirely different people; frankly no one in Canterlot had barely ever witnessed first hand at Wallace frowning a genuine frown.  He was frowning the worst kind of frown: the kind that brought up old memories that were harbingers of dark clouds and doom.

“Oh, dear,” Wallace grimaced.

“What is it?” Spike asked.  “Do you know this penguin?”

“All to well, lad.  In fact, we’ve uh, crossed paths with him multiple times in the past.  Haven’t we, lad?”

Gromit grimly nodded.

Wallace grimly leered. “His name is Feathers McGraw, and he’s a dangerous, cunning, and sneaky diamond burglar.”

Angel’s and Spike’s eyes went wide with sheer terror.  “If he’s a diamond burglar, then w-what d-does he have to d-d-do with Fluttershy?”

“I don’t know, lad,” Wallace worried.  “But whatever it is, it won’t be good.”

“What do we do?”

Wallace pondered with a worried look encapsulating his face, then after a moment became a determined scowl.  “I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do.”  He turned around and hiked into the garage, where he opened up and hopped into the van.  “Come on, lads!  We’ve got no time to lose!”

“Where are we going?” Spike asked, clambering in behind Angel.

“Gromit and I have taken down Feathers McGraw before, and we can certainly do it again!”

Wallace firmly pressed his foot down on the accelerator, speeding the van off into the evening air.
> V. The Heist
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity usually enjoyed the night air.  She found it serene and calming, the perfect combination to relax from the day and tire down until the following morning.  Sometimes, she would enjoy the company of one of her friends, spending the night hanging out as friends do.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

The air was filled with suspense and dread, cobbled together by lingering suspicions.  She just knew that something was not alright.  The words of the latest text from Fluttershy still lingered in her mind, and the choice words were just not in character with her…well, character.  And since when did she take a direct interest in her diamond jewelry?

She had brought them along for better safe than sorry. And yet she couldn’t help herself but place a protective palm over her diamond-jeweled silver necklace.

The words of Fluttershy’s most recent text ran through her train of thought at high speeds, anchoring her stomach into much deeper and sickening pits.  One thing was for sure: her friend was having troubles, or in trouble, one of the two.  Her head was spinning with so much worrying confusion she couldn’t think straight.

Hearing her every step echo throughout the night, and praying that it wasn’t an omen, Rarity walked up to the front doors of the Animal Shelter, noting how darkened the inside appeared to be.  At least the moon from up above and behind provided adequate enough light, not that it helped matters whatsoever.

She cautiously knocked on the glass panes, nervously fiddling in her hair and any creases on her clothing.  Soon enough, a silhouette began approaching the doors, growing ever so larger with each ominous silent step, causing Rarity’s chest to tighten with anxiety.

She shrieked when the doors opened, revealing her animal-loving friend, who also shrieked.

“Oh my goodness, Fluttershy, I am so sorry,” she breathed.

“I-I’m s-sorry.  I-I didn’t m-mean to scare y-you o-or anything,” Fluttershy replied.

“No, no, the fault is on me.  Uh, may I come in?”

“Huh?  O-oh, sure, sure.  Y-Yes you may.”

Once Rarity was led in, she took notice at how eerily dark and quiet the place felt, and not in the ironic sense of the situation.  Everything outright screamed ominous danger and every slight gesture and shadow seemed to creak and bend into shapes that shouldn’t be physically possible; then again, most horror movies always managed to forgo physics at every turn.

“So…um, Fluttershy, darling,” Rarity said, swallowing then breathing.  “I know you wanted to show me something, but…why are you staying late?”

Fluttershy hesitated in her response, tilting her head, stammering for words.  “W-Well, uh, i-it was just me today, and…and I was about to leave w-when you arrived.”

Rarity was even more confused.  “So you haven’t got anything to show me?”

“N-No, I don’t.  I’m sorry.”

“That is strange.  I received a message from you a few hours ago telling me to come here, with every piece of diamond-encrusted jewelry I own, because you had something to show me.”  She paused for a moment.  Everything wasn’t adding up.  “Is it perhaps because you just wanted me to show off my diamond collection to you in a private location?”

Fluttershy flushed immensely.  “N-N-No, I-I-I d-d-don’t want t-that!  I-I mean, I-I s-sure you have lovely diamonds, and t-that—”

Rarity held up a hand.  “Say no more, darling.  I get what you are saying.”

“O-Oh.”

“And besides, if you really wanted me to show off my diamonds to you, we could have done so at my house.”

“Oh, y-yeah.  Right.”

“Which begs the question: who or what wants us to be together here of all places at this time of the day.”

Fluttershy began to nervously squirm.  “I-I hope who, o-or whatever it is, d-doesn’t…doesn’t…y-you know…”

Rarity was going to respond, until she froze, catching her words right on her tongue before the slipped back into her brain, not daring to resurface. The atmosphere seemed to seep with dread at every crack and crevice, threatening to crush her spirits with every trick in the book about creepy and altogether unsettling settings.  Being a lady, it took a lot for her to admit when something wasn’t right with herself, and sometimes it took too little, but only after there had been too much preceding it.

She suddenly slipped, catching herself by the locks of some overhead animal pens.  She took a moment to catch herself, then stole her eyes in the direction of her shoes.  Caught in the tips of them was a large cloth potato sack, complete with a set of rope resting comfortably untangled.

“Fluttershy, when did you get a sack and set of rope for the Shelter?” Rarity asked.

“What?” Fluttershy replied, perplexed.  “What sack and what rope?”

“These ones right here.”

Fluttershy knelt down to look, growing more confused.  “I don’t remember buying those.”

“They appear to be relatively new.  Freshly purchased, you might say.”

“I had to go out for most of the afternoon.  I was buying more petfood after the first batch was ruined.”

“How so?”

“Angel crashed into the dispenser for the food, scattering them all across the floor and leaving the other animals hungry.”

“They don’t appear hungry to me.  They appear to be sleeping.”

“That’s what I don’t get either.  Their bowls are about full and yet unfinished.”

Since when do pets leave their food bowls unfinished, and around the time Fluttershy went out it would have been their second meal time.  Rarity pondered about it all, scanning for any possible missing links to the case.  The events appeared to be unrelated, but they also seemed to be in relation to another in a way that was alluding to her.

Fluttershy went out to buy more food after Angel Bunny destroyed the dispenser scattering the food across the floor, and yet the floor was cleaned, the bowls filled, and in that time a sack and rope were procured and brought to the Shelter…

…the floor was cleaned and the bowls were filled.

“Fluttershy,” Rarity said.

“Y-Yeah? Something on your mind?”

“In a sense.  Have you noticed the coincidence that the food bowls were filled following the destruction of the despenser, and didn’t you say that the food had been scattered across the floor?”

Fluttershy seemed to catch on.  “I did, didn’t I?”

“So someone must have cleaned up the food and filled up the bowls regardless.”

“But that’s not good for the animals!” Fluttershy suddenly spoke out.  “They can’t eat food that was lying around on the ground for even a few minutes!”

“Darling, I have seen Opal eat some of her leftover food from the ground.”

“…oh.  Right, sorry.”

“So this someone scooped up the food and gave it to the animals, and they fell asleep after only a few bites?”

“Are you saying that…?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say, the animals have been drugged.”

“But who would do such a thing?!”

An ominous click from the dark abyss silenced whatever comfort their voices brought to their moods.  The two girls anxiously peered ahead to see a figure emerging from the darkness, on top of the front desk.  He was black all over with a white belly, orange feet and beak, two beady eyes on an expressionless face, a red glove over his head…

…and in his right flipper was a loaded pistol, aimed right in their direction.

The girls gasped with fright, shooting their arms straight into the sky, or at least the furthest point of their arm lengths.  Their breathing froze in their throats, as if close to the choking point.

Rarity remained stagnated at the mercy of the shockingly miniscule criminal; he was about the height of a computer monitor, or knee-height for her.  She looked to Fluttershy, who shared the same emotional response, until she peered her eyes at the actual features of the armed intruder.

She suddenly glared.  “You!!”

“Fluttershy, you know this criminal?” Rarity asked, feeling more disturbed by the second.

Fluttershy didn’t reply, instead dropping her pose and advancing like a scowling elementary teacher. Rarity recognized her stance, and paled into white powder.  “I took you in!  I gave you a home! And how do you repay me?!  By drugging all of the animals and holding us hostage!”  

“Darling, stop this now,” Rarity hissed through her frozen teeth.  “He’s got a gun.  An actual, real life, honest to god…gun!”

“I hope you feel proud of yourself, mister!  What would mother think of you—!”

The armed criminal fired a single bullet, sending it whizzing right through both hairdos of the girls, before passing into a cage containing a single orange tabby cat.  It struck the top-half of the back, leaving a hole large enough for a family of flies to make residence.  The tabby cat mewed and rolled over in his sleep, dreaming about all the most luscious Italian cuisines in existence.

Rarity pulled Fluttershy back from her shocked perspective, while the criminal arched his pistol back and pulled the hammer, aiming it this time directly to their foreheads.

Poor Fluttershy was quivering and shaking in Rarity’s grip.  She buried herself deeply into her only support, very much showing how terrified she was.

Rarity saw that the pistol was aiming right down the barrel. “Wait! Please, we’ll do anything, just don’t hurt us,” she pleaded.

Her friend’s infamous staredown that she was known for, only to her close friends and family, was ineffective against this small stout armed intruder who…kind of looked like a penguin now that she thought about it.

The criminal pointed his gun right to her chest.  She tilted her head in confusion until he did it again.  This time she felt her hand across her upper torso, watching how the gun barrel followed every flinching motion. As much as the thought horrified Rarity’s psyche, it occurred to her that whoever this criminal was had the means to kill them both and then loot their bodies for valuables.

Another thought struck her: the text message two hours ago.  No wonder it didn’t sound like Fluttershy.  The criminal must have sent it through her phone as a means to coax Rarity into coming to the Animal Shelter of her own volition.  If it had been a straight up ransom note, there would have been the risk of alerting the police.

Evil, but clever.

And…oh, of course.

“You want my diamonds, don’t you?” Rarity sounded as brave as she could, but when someone like her is being confronted by an armed burglar, there’s only so much you can do to keep assurance about your life.

The penguin slowly nodded, pointing his gun to the empty but open sack on the ground beside them.

Rarity nodded, confirming the understanding.  She also understood that he either didn’t or couldn’t talk.  Breathing in and exhaling, she stared down the criminal, collecting whatever coolness was left in her will, and still having Fluttershy hold onto her for support, now risking having her face exposed to the pistol’s firepower.

“What do we do?” she whispered, shaking.

“We give him what he wants,” Rarity replied, cracking through the coolness.  She took both hands, hesitating around the chain of her necklace, and the criminal nodded the gun.  She removed her prized jewel.

“Rarity, no!”

“We must be strong, darling. My life and yours are worth more than all of the diamonds in South Africa.”

She dropped it through the opening in the sack, catching how the gun was still fixated on her person.  She obliged without question, removing her diamond ring, earrings, even her most favorite bracket, each dropping with an almost painful sounding clink, like she had betrayed the trust and care she gave them, as if they were actual pets.

And then everything stopped; more accurately everything paused.  Rarity felt like she did everything that was required of her, so she returned to cowering before the threat of the pointed barrel.  She also felt the need to place an arm around Fluttershy, out of instinct or an emotional reaction…probably both.

When the gun barrel didn’t drop, she became more worried.

“What?” she simply asked, bordering on demanding.  “I have given you all the diamonds I have.  What more do you want from me?”

The criminal shook his head.

Rarity fumed, swiping her hand up and around her body.  “Are you saying I have not given you all that you want?  Look at me!  That was all the diamonds that I own, now let us go, please!  We have done nothing to you!”

He took three smooth and precise steps across the desk, aiming his pistol in the exact direction he meant.  His aiming was top notch; he never missed where he meant to hit.  He cocked his head in Rarity’s direction, flicking the barrel right in the direction of Fluttershy’s terrified eyes.  Immediately, she embraced her without thought.

“No!  I won’t let you kill her!”

To her surprise, the criminal slapped a flipper over his face while shaking his head.  He shifted his body as if he was laughing at some inside joke.

“What? I-I don’t understand.”

He pointed his empty flipper at Fluttershy, who was intently listening, then downwards to the sack sprawled across the floor.  Fluttershy gasped as she went pale white, trying to hide her whimper in her hands.

Rarity caught her friend’s distressed state, and went glaring red.  “You…you brute!  You monster!  I will not allow you to take my friend away to violate her against her will—!”

A second deafening crack sounded out with a second bullet whizzing through the violet ironed curls, leaving an open wound that would bleed if it were possible.  Rarity screamed at the sudden interruption of the silence, eyes front and center at the smoking barrel, believing that it looked more angry than before.

It was as if it was saying: do what I want you to do, because you are not going to leave with your life if you don’t hand over what I want.  The expressionless blank and beady-eyed face of the criminal conveyed no sense of anything…at all.  It didn’t shift any facial features to betray any hidden thoughts of emotions, and by god was it scary.

Rarity was scared, not just for herself.  “Please, we’ve done nothing to you.  Take me instead, but let Fluttershy go.”

The criminal calmly and slowly shook his head.  He cocked his gun in her direction.

“And I don’t care if you have to kill me, as long as she goes free.”

He lightly pulled on the trigger, his flipper shaking with anticipation.

“No!”

And then he let go, feeling satisfied with the answer of the other voice.

Rarity went pale.  “F-F-Fluttershy?”

“I-I-I d-do it,” she sobbed, whimpering while pleading.  “I-I’ll l-l-let you t-t-t-take me, just don’t…don’t hurt Rarity, o-or any o-of the a-animals.  Please.”

The criminal nodded once.  He then turned to Rarity, instructing her through body gestures to the pile of rope and sack on the ground.

She shakily stood frozen, weighing the options.  She would be killed if she didn’t comply with the criminal’s demands, but it was either that or allow her friend to be mercilessly kidnapped and taken away to…who knows where to do who knows what to her.  Her soul was racking itself with conflicting sensory reports from the brain and heart.  Fluttershy’s life was in her hands, the kindest person she had ever known would be sentenced by her very decision, and there was only so much she could do when being held at gunpoint.

“What is it that you want with Fluttershy?” she choked.

The criminal simply shrugged.

“H-He s-s-said h-he wants the d-diamonds i-in my eyes,” Fluttershy replied, translating.

“W-What?”

The gun fired right at her shoes, throwing them both onto their backsides.  This time, the criminal hopped down from the desk and onto the floor, holding the smoking barrel right towards his victims.  He took precarious steps towards them, reveling in how much they squirmed at his presence.

“R-Rarity,” Fluttershy pleaded.  “Please, he will k-k-kill you i-if you don’t d-d-do as he s-says.”

“I don’t care if he kills me, I won’t let him have you,” Rarity argued through tears.

She felt Fluttershy’s hands firmly grip her own, which caused her to look into her pleading eyes.  She choked, unable to speak, unable to think.  Fluttershy was a humble girl, shy all around, and yet despite everything being put against her at almost every angle she still maintained her stark kindness for that world.  It was enough to break her soul, a soul that had spent a lifetime growing and learning from the glim and glamor of those above her, who she aspired to be…

…and it took a close friend, whose kindness was perpetual and knew no bounds, to shatter what she thought was a diamond, when it was just glass.

“I promise you, as a friend, that I will not allow myself to be violated against my will.  I’ll be alright, okay?  I’ll be alright.”

Rarity, with a heavy heart, full of tragedy, relented.

If the criminal could, he would be smirking and clapping his flippers together.  Instead he waved his gun to instruct Fluttershy to position herself inside the sack.  She sat in a position she was familiar with: sitting down with her knees hugging her chest.  Rarity then took the length of rope and wrapped it around her arms behind her back then around her legs, making sure not to purposefully hurt her with rope-burn, and that the criminal saw that the rope work was satisfactory enough.

Once he felt like his prize was tightly secured in her ropes, he passed a white cloth over to Rarity.  She paled at the recognized intention of the cloth, but one look at poor and defenseless Fluttershy convinced her to do so, wrapping it around her mouth and tightly securing it in a knot.  To top it all off, Rarity was forced to make direct eye-contact with her friend as she slowly wrapped the sack’s mouth over her head, enveloping Fluttershy in complete darkness.  It was the kind of darkness that was no less than scary, and looked to eat her alive.

Rarity fought the urge to cry her eyes out, dreading that the criminal would take the advantage of her defenseless state of affairs.  She kept her concentration on the moving sack before her while listening to the steady flaps of the feet approaching them.  The criminal caressed the outside with his free flipper, much to the outrage of Rarity, but one look from his stone-cold face changed her mood from irate to scared.  She didn’t care that her mascara was completely smeared from her bout of crying; any other situation perhaps, but not this one.  She had failed her friend because Fluttershy, bless her pure soul, was scared not for her life, but for the life of her friend.

Why did she have to be so damn selfless and unequivocally...kind? It broke poor Rarity's heart.

The criminal pocketed his gun before clambering up the sack to the area where the mouth was closed off, over the head of the prize inside. He tapped the barrel over Rarity’s hands, shooting them up like a whizzing propeller.

God she looked ugly without the makeup.  What a phony.  “Please, I’ve done all you asked of me.  Just…don’t hurt my friend. Please, I’m begging you.“

The criminal could only shake his head in disappointment. This kind of girl was like most other girls he robbed from: they put on a mask to hide their insecurities behind their wealth, and when the chips are down they become sniveling cowards. True beauty was effortless, not forced.

He waved the barrel at her, instructing her to stand up.  He then backed up behind the tie of the sack and pointed at it.

“Y…You want me to…to carry Fluttershy…for you?”

He nodded, taking note of how much paler her skin tone could get.  As an act of persuasion, he cocked the hammer, aiming for her chest.

“A-Alright,” she relented.

Rarity was by no means a heavy lifter.  That was more Applejack or Rainbow’s field of expertise.  As such she struggled to lift poor Fluttershy the kidnapping victim, and the smug criminal, who had the gall to clamber on top of her head and act as a driver, nearly losing her balance on multiple occasions. She exited the Shelter just fine, yelping when the criminal tugged on her hair directing her around the front entrance, then across the street to where Wallace’s road machine from a few days ago was sitting, quiet and stationary, a long way from wherever its owners were.

He stopped her right at the foot of the cab.  He then opened up the door and hopped into the driving seat, keeping his gun aimed at the head of Rarity.  He waved the barrel to his position, and she understood what that meant for her.  With great care for her friend’s condition, she placed the sack at the foot of the seat.

“I’m so sorry, Fluttershy,” she whimpered.  “So, so, sorry.”

The criminal rolled his eyes, eyeing Rarity as she tenderly stroked the sack with a face full of weakness and emotion.  Sickening.

He waved the barrel back to her, and thankfully she understood that she had to close the cab door for him.  The moment she did so, she stumbled back into the street, getting her boots stuck in the melted tarmac.  It felt like clay, as the tarmac looked like it was about to harden.  Just then, she noticed the caterpillar track hanging over the curb, pointed right in her direction.  She tugged on her legs, hoping beyond hope that she could make it out alive, but the tarmac held her in place.

Suddenly, the machine roared to life.

She saw as the lights shot on, and the tank treads accelerating in her direction, causing her to scream bloody murder.
> VI. The Chase
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Halfway across town, a rusted British model van was speeding through the night.  Inside the cab were a talking magical dog, an untalkative grumpy white rabbit, another untalkative pet animal, this time an intelligent canine, and a middle-aged cheese loving inventor who’s well-known large smile had been thoroughly replaced with a somewhat scary-looking determined frown.

The van had no siren, only an orange light above the driver-side of the van, along with the freshly re-painted logo of the business of its owners.

Wallace swerved the wheel to a sharp right, sending the van to screech on its tires so hard it smacked into a handicap parking sign, causing the passengers inside piled onto him.

“Where on earth did you learn to drive?!” Spike grumbled.

“I’ll have you know that I took the best driving course I could possibly afford!” Wallace retorted.

“That’s not exactly saying much,” Spike grumbled again, under his breath.

Gromit furrowed his brow in agreement while Angel clutched his head from the angle of the dashboard, with an imprint of his face in it.

“Come on, lads!  Stay focused!  We’ve got a dangerous criminal to catch!”

“And we’ve got to save Fluttershy and Rarity as well!”

“Right!  We’re coming up on the shelter, lads!  Hold on tight!”

Up ahead through the darkness and alight from the headlights, the gargantuan road machine was roaring to life from where it was parked on the side of the road across from the Shelter.

“Oi, what are you doing with my machine?!” Wallace growled.  “Go get your own All-Purpose Road Machine, ya thief!”

“Wait, is that Rarity?” Spike said.  “Holy guacamole!  She’s stuck in the path of the machine!”

Suddenly, all at once, Wallace drove the van right into the muck that was the spilled concoction of melted tarmac, causing it to become firmly stuck, right as Gromit and Spike leapt out from Wallace’s door, colliding with Rarity, unsticking her free from her boots, sending the three of them tumbling onto the solid tarmac right as the giant treads lumbered past them and into the distance.

“Oi, Feathers McGraw!” Wallace shouted right as he stepped out and into the melted tarmac.  “D’oh, ohhhh.  He’s gone and mucked up the concoction, that sneak!  Feathers McGraw, come back here this minute!  You are under citizen’s arrest!”

“Too late, Wallace.  He can’t hear you from here,” Spike huffed.

“Why, that blooming brighter!  I’ll get you yet, Feathers McGraw!” Wallace shook his fist at the departing machine, then realized he couldn’t move.  “D’ohh, ohhh!”  He shuffled his feet out of his shoes, “These are my best shoes!”, then stepped his stockings into the tar.  “Goodness, this will set back work for a good three months.”  He then heaved with all his might out of the tar, which ended up ripping both his stockings off…

…as well as his brown trousers, exposing his white and red polka-dot boxers.

Rarity flushed red as she shot to her feet, shell-shocked at the sight of the middle-aged inventor standing in the middle of the street with his boxer shorts exposed. After a few moments, she finally noticed the other companions.

“Spike? Angel? What are you doing here with Wallace and Gromit?”

“We came to rescue you and Fluttershy from the penguin,” Spike explained.

Rarity gasped. “Fluttershy! That penguin has stolen my diamonds and kidnapped Fluttershy!”

“He what?!” Spike cried, while Gromit and Angel shot their ears up in shock.

“Ohh, just when I thought he couldn’t go any lower,” Wallace seethed.

“Wait a minute, Wallace, you know this penguin don’t you?” Rarity noted.

“There’s no time! Feathers simply must be stopped!”

“I know, but what must we do? He’s got a gun!”

“Fluttershy’s in danger, Rarity!” Spike snapped, “and we’ve faced worse things, remember?”

“Spike’s right! I’ll stay behind and get this van unstuck while you lot chase after him. He didn’t get away from us before and that certainly won’t happen tonight! After him, Gromit!” Wallace ordered.

Gromit nodded with determination before hightailing down the street after the stolen Road Machine, closely followed by Angel clinging for his life on Spike, and Rarity, swallowing her fear, trying her best to keep up on hard cement while barefoot.

“Good luck!” Wallace called after them. He went to the back of the van, and began pushing with all his might. “Ohh, it’s heavier than it looks.”



Through the sea of darkness, the floodlights filled the void as the titan of machinery rumbled across the vast airfield of leathered balloons.  The lights caught a sliver of the various patterns on the balloons the machine passed, however the driver had his beady eyes set on one balloon in particular.

He rumbled the machine to a stop by his destination, angling so that the cab was positioned right above the basket. Once he switched off the engine, he hopped up to open the cab door, then pushed the large sack that landed with a muffled drop into the basket. He then hopped down, catching the pulley that activated the gas tank, then onto the control panel of the balloon, chugging it to life and fiddling with the levers.

He would be damned if all his hard work was to go up in flames at the last minute once again.



“Where did you think he went?” Rarity gasped.

“I think I saw him turn off onto Cloudsdale Boulevard a few moments ago,” Spike replied.

“But that leads right to the airfield! You don’t think he’ll try to escape in a hot-air balloon?”

Gromit only furrowed his brow in anger, quickening his pace against time.

The group rushed high on their feet past darkened streets, taking shortcuts through available alleyways whenever possible, and passing under lit lamp posts that illuminated the street signs.  The moon shone brightly against the blackened backdrop, yet even the moon itself recognized the danger of the situation unfolding down on the earth, for a high-force gale had approached from the North, bringing a slough of clouds over the stars.

“This wind is something fierce!” Spike remarked, right as Angel struggled to keep a grip on the heightened amount of force against him. “I knew I should’ve brought my goggles!”

At one point, Rarity was not paying as much attention, ending with her smacking face-first into a stop-sign, leaving behind an indent of her face in the metal.

“Rarity!” Spike shrieked, suddenly halting with a skid, sending Angel to ring around his neck.  “Are you okay?!”

Rarity staggered up to her feet, then stared up at the sign in a daze. “Who put that there?!” she demanded.

Gromit rolled his eyes.



Ignoring the muffled protests from inside the sack, he let loose the mooring line right as the balloon was beginning to lift itself free from the ground.

He hoped that the crosswind would catch and take him down to the Mexican border.  If he was lucky enough, he could catch a draft all the way to Antarctica.



With all due haste, they raced across the grassy fields of the airfield past the idle baskets of cold airless hot air balloons. It was quite easy to pick out the silhouette of the stolen All-Purpose Road Machine, as the thieving penguin had foolishly left the cab lights on.  However, that was also marked with the rising glow from the gas burner inflating the balloon as the basket slowly rose, marking itself as an outsider against the starry sky.

“He’s getting away!” Spike shouted.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity cried. “We need to save her, but how are we meant to follow?”

Gromit growled at the smug penguin waving farewell. It was one thing to dupe his master and best friend to steal a diamond from the museum, but it was another thing entirely to outright kidnap an innocent girl, and using Wallace’s inventions to make his escape just added insult to injury. There wasn’t a model train set around the house this time, he needed to get creative.

“Perhaps we could use one of the balloons?” Rarity suggested.

“It’d take too long to fire them up, and Feathers has the one with a motorized engine attached,” Spike rebuffed.

“Well then, where else are we going to find something that flies and is faster than a simple motor? Unless either of you can fly?”

“Oh, no! No way! I am not going on another of those flying monstrosities ever again! I don’t even know how to fly, do you?!”

“Of course not! I never concerned myself with it until now! Fluttershy’s life is in danger! This is THE!! WORST!! POSSIBLE!! THING!! TO HAVE EVER HAPPENED!!!!”

Angel tried his darndest to tune out the ensuing argument behind him, though the word choice exemplified the stakes of the matter. The dastardly penguin was getting away with each passing second, with his owner in his fiendish clutches to do unspeakable things to his malicious pleasure. The balloons would be too slow to start and neither of them could successfully fly a plane.

Just then, he noticed the balloon cart next to a batch of full helium tanks. Getting an idea, he hailed Gromit over to the cart, indicating that with enough balloons and the force of the helium tanks, the craft could be controlled and fast enough to catch up to the escaping penguin.

Gromit nodded in agreement and set to work immediately. As Angel emptied out the reserve supply of rubber balloons, Gromit worked to fill them up and tie them to the cart with such speed and versatility it was like he was a living cartoon character from the olden days. Once the balloons were tied to the cart, he took a strand of rope and tied the remaining helium tank to the underside of the cart. Right away, the amount of balloons lifted the little wooden vehicle and its passengers into the air, Gromit at the helm of the balloon strings and throttle and Angel catching the attention of the arguing duo with a loud whistle.

“What are you guys doing—?! Hey, wait for me!” Spike cried, bounding up onto the wooden wheel before being hoisted up by Gromit right as he tugged loose the canister…

“Goodness, are you actually serious that this thing will—FLYYYYYYYYYYY?!!!!!!!”

…right as Rarity leapt onto the back end of the cart, clinging for dear life and screaming like an out of tune seagull at the top of her lungs.

“HOLD ON, RARITY!!” Spike cried over the rushing wind.

“LIKE I HAVE A CHOICE IN THE MATTER!!” she cried back.

As Feathers steered the balloon through the sky, a shrill voice and hissing air caught his attention from behind. There he spotted a colorful barrage of balloons holding aloft that girl who wore the diamonds, that furry little rabbit, a purple dog, and…

That other dog.

Seeing the determined scowl on his arch-nemesis’ face, Feathers made a growling note that the poorly hamstrung craft was gaining speed at a rapid pace. He rushed over the controls, kicking the throttle into top gear, only to notice that even at maximum throttle the balloon cart was closing the gap quicker than he thought.

“Look at that! We’re closing in on him!” Spike hollered. “Woohoo!”

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed overhead as a set of balloons burst from where Feathers was perched on the basket…

…with the barrel smoking an entrail.

“Oh, shoot! He’s got a gun!”

Both Gromit and Angel’s ears sprang up in shock, no sooner as Feathers fired at them a second time, only for the bullet to be blocked from what appeared to be a trio of shining life-sized diamonds that appeared out of nowhere.

“That was close! Quick thinking, Rarity,” Spike panted.

“You’re welcome, Spike,” Rarity replied, likewise. She then noticed the looks of bafflement from the remaining animals. “Yes, I can indeed summon magical diamond shields. It’s from my geode due to Equestrian magic. I and all my other friends have a geode.”

“It’s true! I’ve seen them in action, and they’re awesome!”

Angel and Gromit shared a look of surprise, shrugged, and simultaneously gave the geode powered girl a thumbs up of gratitude, to which she smiled.

Feathers meanwhile growled, nearing a full on roar. Just what exactly had he witnessed? That fake beauty of a girl suddenly pulled up giant diamond shields that were impervious to bullets out of nowhere? It was a trick! Well, try as they might, nothing could stop him! He wouldn’t have it!

And why did it have to be a shield of diamonds to taunt him even further?

The bullets continued to relentlessly pound on the shields as Rarity took the strain.

“I can’t…hold it longer,” she groaned.

“He’s only got three shots…

CRACK!!

“…two shots left!” Spike said.

“How do you know?”

“I found Twilight reading up on the schematic differences between handguns, which is very worrying. Might be from Shining’s job as a police officer.”

“As worried as I am for Twilight, we have more pressing matters at hand!”

“Right, sorry! Anyway, the penguin’s got your standard revolver which holds a maximum of six rounds in total, and thank goodness it’s not an automac.”

Gromit nodded with a grim pit at the knowledge, and then he started thinking. Feathers fired one more round at the shield, noticing that the power was beginning to wane.

“Darlings, hurry please! I can’t take the strain anymore!” Rarity cried.

“Okay, he’s still got one more round, and if he misses it’ll take a while to reload, but that depends on how swift he is at reloading!” Spike paled. “OH MY GOD, WE’RE GONNA DIE!!”

At that moment, everything happened at once.

Right as Rarity’s shield finally dropped, Feathers fired his last remaining round right as Gromit made a violent lean to port, nearly tumbling the passengers of the balloon cart over the side but right as the bullet zipped past to miss hitting any such target.

Feathers cursed his bad luck, growling as the balloon cart finally came up right beside his stolen balloon.

“CHARGE!!!”

Without warning, Spike and Angel leapt into action as Feathers leapt to the starboard side of the basket rim, leaving the pair of animals dazed and surprised.

Just then, Rarity stumbled off the cart, narrowly catching the rim of the basket door as she dangerously dangled from a pair of weak hinges.

“GOODNESS GRACIOUS, SOMEBODY HELP!!”

She dared to look down, seeing the distant grass darkened by the height in the atmosphere as her vision interpreted it as becoming a much farther drop.  She closed her eyes, trying beyond hope to keep her nerves calm despite the situation, only to look up and see the devious chicken- disguised penguin looking down on her with those emotionless beady eyes.

“You vile monster!” she cursed. “How dare you do this to poor Fluttershy! Why did you have to involve her, weren’t my diamonds enough to satisfy your greed?!”

Feathers said nothing, he just kept staring at the girl in his mercy. What did she know about greed? So what, she had enough to satisfy her lavishness. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend after all. Why did she have to care so much for the diamond-eyed girl if she had enough diamonds to her name? It was her own fault that she hid behind false beauty. If there was one thing Feathers hated in this world, it was people who falsified themselves, but the upshot were all the beautiful diamonds for him to collect; they were the only beautiful things they would ever have.

Feathers calmly walked across the rim before ferociously pecking one of her hands loose, letting her dangle by a few fingers as she wailed and screamed in terror. To make matters more dire, she grabbed the door as the top hinge broke off. Now by a single screw, Rarity looked through her tears at the wiggling sack in the corner, no doubt scared and confused as to what was occurring. 

To Rarity, she could only see how she had failed her friend: how she was too much of a coward to stand up against the villainous penguin, letting her fear take over to allow Fluttershy, the kindest person who could have ever existed, to be taken away by a greedy criminal.

She could have…

She could have…

…but she didn’t.

And Fluttershy was the price to pay.

As the final screw became loose, she cried in pain.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Fluttershy. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you when I could, that I was too scared for my own life to protect your’s, and I was too late to save you. I can only…ask…beg for forgiveness…before it all ends…”

She let strands of tears bleed her mascara, accepting her fate.

“Goodbye…”

And yet again, everything happened at once.

One moment, Feathers was overlooking the soon to be dead Rarity, and the next he was pulled back into a brawling fisticuffs fight with an enraged Angel. The killer bunny wasted no time in hamming it out against the wicked bird, wrestling his opponent like he was a rubber balloon or some indestructible fidget, which was to say that the penguin was nowhere near as such, only treated as such, and not caring a dime it the villain was battered to death accidentally maliciously. Caught unawares, Feathers could only block the occasional attack from the fluffy advancement, until he was pinned down and at the mercy of a pair of strong fluffy paws slapping his face this way and that, knocking off his rubber hat.

“Get him, Angel! You’re knocking him dead!” Spike cheered.

Soon enough, both dog companions hauled Rarity into the safety of the basket as Angel kicked the penguin away to be held up by the neck into the raging and growling eyes of Gromit.

Rarity wasted no time in releasing her friend from her prison. The poor girl was wet from crying and her body was shaking all over.

Like lightning, she undid her bonds. “Oh, Fluttershy!” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from that horrid penguin! I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…I’m sorry…”

Her words were lost between the ensuing sobs from both friends. Neither could say another sentence as they sobbed out the terror they had both experienced. Their animal friends shared their sentiment, both Spike and Angel snuggling both girls to soften the agony.

Gromit sniffled, wiping the tears from his eyes deathly glaring at the villainous penguin in his grasp. He kept his concentration on the fiend, even as he slowly diminished the gas burner and switched off the motor. The whole trip down stank of burning gasoline.

Down below, the balloon landed on a dark empty street. It was one of the roads that led away from the outskirts of town, therefore saw little of passing by motorists, which added to the eeriness.

“I-I-I don’t l-like it here,” Fluttershy shivered.

“It’s alright, Fluttershy,” Rarity consoled, yet her voice betrayed her.

“It shouldn’t be that much of a walk back into town,” Spike hoped. “Come on, I know these roads like a map, mostly because Twilight leaves her roadmaps out and I read them from sheer boredom.”

Angel grumbled in annoyance while Gromit rolled his eyes, the little criminal still squirming in his roped bonds.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights enveloped the group as the engine of the vehicle wined down. Fluttershy grasped Rarity at the sight, who protectively stood before her.

“Whoever you are, we want no quarrel with you,” she warned, with the animals getting into a stance.

The headlights then clicked off to reveal, sitting in the driver’s seat…

…was a relieved Wallace.

“Oh, thank goodness that you girls are alright,” he sighed, getting out. “That must have been quite the experience.”

Rarity sighed in relief as well. “Yes. Yes it certainly was.”

Fluttershy meanwhile flushed red. “Um…w-why is Wallace…in his…boxer shorts?”

Wallace carried on like he heard nothing from the shy girl. “Still, at least you managed to rescue Fluttershy and nabbed the bloke behind it all.” He turned his attention to the penguin, who stared blankly back at the man in his briefs. “We meet again, Feathers McGraw. I see that prison time hasn’t made you a better penguin just yet. You’re going back away for another long time I can guarantee you that. Prison is just the kind of place thieving little buggers like you belong.”

“Wallace?” Rarity asked. “Would you mind if you would drop us all off at our homes?”

“Oh, of course not! I will get you all home by my word or my name’s not Wallace!”

“That’s great, but for the love of God you are not driving!” Spike snarled.

The group laughed at the little bit of humor as they all crammed into the two-door cab of the rusted van. Gromit drove the second time around, playing some soft classical music over the radio. Fluttershy got into the music, lightly humming and swaying to the instrumentation.

Rarity sat in uncomfortable silence. The music was soothing to the ears, but the object twiddling between her fingers was the subject of her discomfort. It was a beautiful diamond, given to her especially by her grandfather, a true rarity if anything. And yet, after the adventure she had gone through opened her eyes.

Why was she privileged with such lavish jewelry when her friend was in despair? That criminal had lusted after dear Fluttershy and her grandfather’s prized diamond, content to leave the Animal Shelter to dry up its funds and leave the animals all homeless, begging on the streets for love and food, reduced to their primal states when they had a chance to be loved.

She scowled. It wasn’t fair that she had all the wealth while her friend suffered. The shining beauty in the stone had deceived her. Clenching the diamond in her fist, she knew exactly how to fix the entire predicament.

“Right! Here we are, Fluttershy!” Wallace said as the van came to a stop.

Angel got in one last conk on the penguin’s noggin before he hopped out of the van and through the doggy door.

“I’ll get off here too,” Rarity said. “I can walk the rest of the way.”

“Suit yourself, Rarity. Gromit and I will just be dropping off this pilfering penguin at the police station after we’ve dropped off Spike.”

“Goodnight, girls!” Spike waved.

“Goodnight, Spikey-Wikey!”

God, I hate myself for doing that. Nevermind it now, the moment's passed.

She waved as she watched the van disappear into the night, but not before it made a violent swerve.

“Ooohh, both paws on the wheel, lad! Concentrate!”

She giggled good-naturedly. It really was a good thing that Wallace and Gromit were such reliable friends, and that they were absolutely friendly to be around.

The moment ended for Rarity much sooner than she wanted. She still had one more thing to do, otherwise she would have regretted it and never forgiven herself.

“Fluttershy?”

“Yes, Rarity?”

Rarity stammered for a moment. “I…I want to give you something. Something that will help the Animal Shelter.”

“R-Really?”

Rarity nodded, then she breathed. No turning back now, this was for her friend.

“Yes. I’ve realized now that this thing isn’t as important as my friendship is, and I regret that I didn’t realize it sooner. That I could have saved the Animal Shelter before, but now I aim to rectify that.”

Fluttershy felt sorry for her friend, but in that moment, her eyes glittered with surprise at the diamond in Rarity’s outstretched hands.

“R-Rarity? Is…is that…?”

“Yes,” was the choking reply. “It was the diamond that was gifted to me by my grandfather. It’s a very unique mineral, he told me. Unlike anything he had ever seen. It’s worth millions.”

“M-M-M-Millions?!”

“And I want you to have it. You can use the money to find investors for the Shelter.”

Fluttershy stared in shock, unable to make a single squeak from her mouth. One of the world’s most expensive diamonds, gifted to Rarity by her grandfather, and she was giving it to her?

“Oh, Rarity…that’s v-very nice but…I-I can’t accept this. I-It belongs to y-you.”

To her surprise, Rarity shook her head. “Nonsense, darling. You need it more than I do. Besides, I’ve got plenty of other jewelry to choose from.”

There was a shred of reluctance, but it was easy to miss and forgotten as the moment passed. Rarity handed the large diamond, with Fluttershy looking right dead center into the jewel. It glowed in the moonlight as if it were a lantern in a sea of darkness. A beacon of hope, but that hope came from her friend, who sacrificed this wonderful diamond for her sake, for the sake of all those animals who could lose their home.

“It’s the least I could do,” Rarity said, becoming somber. “I only regret that I didn’t realize it sooner. It could have prevented this entire mess from ever happening.”

Fluttershy could no longer hold her tears back. “Oh, Rarity…”

“I’m sorry, Fluttershy…I’m sorry that I was foolish enough to let you be taken away by that villain,” Rarity choked. “The diamonds would have been enough, but…I should have…I should have done something…”

In one swift motion, Fluttershy wrapped her arms around her friend in a caring hug while sobbing into her shoulder. Rarity returned the gesture, likewise crying out her regrets. They stood there under the moonlight like that for a few moments.

Fluttershy was the first to let go. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Rarity. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I—”

“No.” The firmness in her voice was startling, as it was every time. “You have nothing to blame yourself for. It was my choice. I-I just…I couldn’t let him kill you!”

Rarity hugged her again. “I accept your forgiveness. Let’s just put this behind us and look ahead. We’ve got our graduation coming up.”

“O-Oh, yes. I guess in all the excitement, I forgot.”

“Remember: this diamond is worth a fortune. Promise me that the money will go to the Shelter, for all of those animals?”

“I…I promise. Thank you so much, Rarity.”

“You’re welcome, Fluttershy. After all, what are friends for?”
> VII. All's Well, Then?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Graduation day had come.

Today was the day. Today was the day that the girls would leave the confines of school to make their own journeys in the adventure that was life.

The past few weeks had actually been somewhat relaxing compared to the adventure that involved the infamous Feathers McGraw. Fluttershy had been rescued, the diamonds returned, and the criminal had been shipped back to England, oddly enough wanted by Interpol themselves.

Fluttershy had reluctantly sold the diamond Rarity gave her, and the buyer had given her enough money to reinvigorate the funds to the Animal Shelter. New investors signed onto the complex and it was as if there wasn't such a financial struggle in the first place. She was just happy that the animals now had a home to stay in where she could care for them so that they could go to new owners.

School was thirty minutes from starting, but of course the seniors of the hour were given leave until the official ceremony, and at the moment two friends were taking a relaxing stroll down a residential neighborhood.

"Such a lovely day," Rarity smiled.

"It definitely is," Fluttershy agreed. "Though, I'm a little nervous."

"That's to be expected, darling. It is the next stage of our lives. I'll admit, I am slightly nervous myself."

"Really?"

"Of course. I suppose that after all our little...adventures, I had forgotten about the stress of this coming day."

"O-Oh, yeah, I agree."

"So, which house is it? They all look the same."

"I don't know."

At that moment, a loud explosion rocketed the roof off and back onto a nearby house, followed by the smell of smoking cheese.

"That one, I think."

The two friends entered the front garden of the house in question, walking up to the front door where upon they discovered a note.



To whomever is at the front door:
Gromit and myself have decided to have our Memorial Bank Holiday on the moon. We will return in a few days time. Until then, hold off on my order of Wensleydale.
-Wallace



"They're out of town?" Fluttershy wondered. "And Memorial Day was a few days ago. Do you think they're back and forgot to remove the note?"

"Perhaps, but what does he mean by 'on the moon'?" Rarity added.

"I don't know."

"Well, let's ring the doorbell and ask."

Rarity pressed the button to the side of the door, followed by a "I'll just be a minute!" and the door opening to reveal a smiling Wallace holding a flat-head screwdriver and his face covered in soot.

"Oh, hallo girls. Fancy seeing you here today. Isn't it your graduation day?"

"Yes it is, Wallace," Rarity replied. "Fluttershy and I were just coming here to invite yourself and Gromit to attend.

"Oh, why yes, yes of course! I would an honor!" He took a rag and wiped his face. "Why don't you come in? We were just about to have some cheese! Courtesy of the moon!"

Fluttershy stammered for a moment. "O-oh. W-Well, that's...that's very nice of you, Wallace, but we...we..."

"Would be honored to join you," Rarity answered.

"Charming!" He then went upstairs. "I'll just be there in a moment! I'll need to change into something clean!"

The two then entered the parlor hall, removing their shoes and jackets as per basic houseguest manners.

"Why did you answer for me?" Fluttershy asked.

"Fluttershy, darling..." Rarity sighed, calming her nerves. "These past few weeks have been stressful for all of us, you and I especially with that thieving penguin."

Fluttershy shivered, visually remembering the exact details of that monstrous penguin. "He nearly killed you..."

She felt her friend's hand calmly rubbing her shoulder. "But he didn't. The worst that happened was my hair getting rustled from the rushing wind on that flying balloon cart. That is why we need this moment. We can't have either of us clamming up before one of the most important moments of our lives."

She remained silent.

"O-Okay, I...I'll try to be strong...I Will be strong."

Rarity smiled warmly. "We owe it to Wallace and Gromit. Besides, I've never tasted Moon Cheese before. I wonder what it will be?"

The two sat in the living room on the sofa, each with a plate of cheese and Gromit pouring them a cup of tea.

"Thank you, Gromit," Rarity said.

"Mmm...this is great cheese, Gromit," Fluttershy complimented. "Where did you get it?"

Gromit nodded his head up in the direction of the sky.

"Um...I'm sorry, but did you say that you and Wallace got them...from the moon?"

Gromit nodded.

"And you went skiing with a...um, a 'Robot Cooker' over the hills?"

Gromit nodded again.

"So you and Wallace went to Switzerland?" Rarity asked.

Gromit replied by raising his brow, followed by shaking his head while rolling his eyes.

"Um...actually, I think he meant they actually went to the Moon," Fluttershy said.

Rarity was taken aback. "Are you serious?" she asked Gromit.

The canine placed his paw on his hip, unimpressed.

"How is that you and Wallace managed to reach the Moon...all on your own?"

Gromit nodded to the basement door.

"He said that they..." she nervously took a sip and a light nibble, "rebuilt the one from before after modifying the plans of the prototype."

"Prototype?" Rarity carefully set her dishes on the coffee table before turning to Gromit. "You mean to tell me, that yourself and Wallace, had previously built a rocket to the Moon, and had modified the plans to do it again?"

Gromit nodded again, this time with a hint of pride at the unintentional praise.

"That's very clever of you guys," Fluttershy complimented.

And then blushed at the intentional praise. Fluttershy just seemed to always say the right set of words to make anyone feel better. It was rather sweet of the young girl.

Rarity sighed in defeat, though with a visible smile. She sipped her tea and took a small bite. "It's a good thing Twilight isn't with us. We would never hear the end of how 'The Moon is not made of cheese, for the last time!'"

Even Gromit found the exchange funny.

"I think she would be more excited at how Wallace and Gromit managed to build a rocket from their own basement."

"To that I say: 'That's Wallace and Gromit for you.' I can only wonder what could be next from that inventive mind of his."

Gromit then took the empty plates and cups onto a tray heading for the kitchen, right when Fluttershy noticed the time on the parlor room clock.

"Oh, my goodness! Rarity, we got to hurry! School's starting soon!"

"Huh? Oh, right, darling! Of course!" Rarity was slower after Fluttershy, but managed to give a polite farewell to the dish-washing canine in the kitchen. "We hope to see you both at Graduation, Gromit, and I absolutely loved the cheese! Goodbye!"

Gromit waved after her as the door closed. He sighed wistfully, getting back to work. It seemed that the pair of himself and Wallace could never get a moment's rest in their never-ending adventurous life. But, that was to be expected when your best friend was a crackpot cheese-loving inventor.

Speaking of which, the man in question came down the stairs in a clean outfit.

"Have they left already?" he asked.

Gromit nodded as he set the dishes to dry.

"Well, that's a shame. I was looking forward to our light conversation over a plate of splendid Moon Cheese." He sighed. "Oh, well, all the more for us, and we got invited to their graduation. All after another successful Bank Holiday to the Moon. Heh, all's well that end's well, eh, Gromit?"

In his monologue of praise, Wallace managed to miss hearing and seeing Shaun the Jumper Sheep casually eating the remnants of the block of cheese that was sitting right in the middle of the coffee table. Gromit saw, but shrugged his shoulders at the sight as he hung up his apron.

"Right," Wallace grinned, "now I'm ready for a great big plate of...uh, Gromit, lad? You wouldn't happen to have seen where the cheese went?"

Gromit again shrugged his shoulders.

At the same time, Shaun was happily eating away at his ill-gotten meal, licking the crumbs from his lips and the plate.

"Shaun! You little tyke, you! Get back here with me cheese!"

Shaun immediately caught onto his master's shouting and made a break for it.

Wallace gave chase. "Get back here, you thieving monster! Ah...I'll teach you not to steal other people's cheese!"

Except he wasn't watching his path, and managed to slip on the plate Shaun left by the open door to the basement before tumbling down the staircase.

"GRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Gromit winced as he heard the sounds of splintering wood and crashing metal.

"GROMIT! You'd better the screwdriver! I think I've bent me tubes again!"

The dog facepalmed his shaking head. Just what would it take to have a relaxing day for a change, was it that hard to ask?