Mission Control

by Samey90

Rating: teen
Tags: Mystery, Button Mash, Comedy, Twist, Adventure, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dinky Hooves, Other
Length: 37305

After reading too many comic books, some nerdy foals decide to become superheroes. It goes as well as one'd expect.

Being a superhero is not easy. Twist, Button Mash, Dinky, Tagalong, Tootsie Flute, and Nursery Rhyme will soon learn about it the hard way. Timberwolves, Snips and Snails, evil filly scouts... The evil has many faces. But the brave group of foals will soon manage to defeat them all...

Or so they think.

A part of The Silver Spoonerverse. Preread by Bootsy Slickmane

Published 2016-02-08 04:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-02-29 21:43:11 UTC

Issue 1: The Mysterious Masked Marvels!

Not far away from the Ponyville hydroelectric dam, there was a tower. Nopony was sure who built it and why; some were saying that the workers building the dam built it in their free time after ingesting way more booze than they should. Others were claiming that it’d actually served some purpose, but was abandoned since then and never used again. For some time, the manufacturers of Wood Chips cereal had their headquarters there, before they moved to their shiny new offices in Manehattan.

Now, in the middle of the night, mysterious noises were filling the tower. Scratching and hoofsteps could be heard as three silhouettes climbed up the stairs...

“Hey! I found a box of cereal! Eww... It expired ten years ago.”

“Button, for Luna’s sake...” the other voice said with a slight lisp. An off-white hoof smacked the forehead of a hooded pony as she looked at the pony called Button.

“What? Sorry, Twist, but I was hungry...” Button muttered.

“We agreed not to use our names!” Twist exclaimed.

“You started it...”

“Nevermind,” the third pony said, seeing that Twist was about to kick Button down the flight of stairs. “We need to start the meeting soon.”

The trio rushed upstairs. On the top of the tower, there was a large room. It seemed that it had been redecorated recently – there was a desk standing by the window, allowing the pony sitting at it to watch the whole town from the distance. There was also a map of Equestria hanging on the wall, with red flags put in various places. Metal lockers were standing by the opposite wall, filled with various weapons and gadgets. Something that looked like a disemboweled mech was lying next to them, surrounded by screwdrivers and wrenches.

Twist took off her cloak, revealing that she was, in fact, an ordinary redhead with glasses, and sat at the desk. Button also got rid of his disguise. His appearance was screaming “nerd!” even more than Twist’s.

The third pony looked almost exactly like Twist, which creeped Button out. Only after a moment he noticed that her mane was in fact darker and that she wasn’t wearing glasses. He thought that he’d seen her before and remembered that she was helping the nurses in Ponyville Hospital.

“Meet my twin sister, Nursery Rhyme,” Twist said.

“Cool,” Button muttered. “Which of you is the evil twin?”

“That’ll be our sister, Bon Bon,” Nursery Rhyme said. Unlike her sister, she had no lisp, but it didn’t make her voice any more pleasant. “She keeps making strange experiments in our basement. It’s kinda annoying when I want to work on my stuff in the middle of the night and she comes to me to borrow sulphuric acid.”

“Also, Button, we’re not evil,” Twist added. “We came here to form a group of masked vigilantes, remember?”

“Sure,” Button said, taking a look at the mech in the corner. Despite his best attempts, he still couldn’t make it work.

“Okay,” Twist muttered, straightening in her seat and looking at Button and Nursery. “As you are aware, there have been a few cases of masked ponies appearing around Ponyville. We need...”

“Excuse me,” Nursery Rhyme said. “If you mean that Mare-Do-Well thing, it was Twilight and her friends being idiots. And the only report about a lunatic flying in a giant spoon comes from Berry Punch who had recently been transported to the hospital with her BAC exceeding–”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, sister,” said Twist dryly. “Who here knows the most about superheroes?”

“We do,” Button replied. “We’ve read all the Power Ponies issues. Including the ones that were around before we were born. And the ones written during the Griffonian War when Power Ponies were fighting the evil griffons and their zebra servants...”

“Those were hard to get, for some reason...” Twist nodded. “Anyway, since we’re the experts, nothing superheroic should be happening in this town without our knowledge.”

“Excuse me,” Nursery Rhyme said. “But I don’t quite get the logic behind it. Maybe because I don’t speak nerdy...”

“You don’t? You’re the youngest nurse I know!” Button exclaimed.

“Okay, but my nerdiness is actually useful,” Nursery replied with a small sigh.

Twist cleared her throat and looked at her sister. “I mean that, to fight crime, superheroes need a few things. Place where they can meet...” She pointed at the room. “Technical support, medical help...”

“So, I’m here to watch you get hurt and prevent you from getting hurt too much?” Nursery asked.

“Not us,” Twist said. “Button and I are technical support. We’ll get some superheroes here later. You, my dear, will have a unique chance to research their skills and maybe some freaky genetic mutations that allow them to be who they are...”

Nursery’s eyes lit up. “You had me at ‘research’ and ‘freaky genetic mutations’,” she said, barely containing excitement. Nursery was a young scientist – which meant that she still didn’t fear to admit that gratuitous dissecting could be fun. She could even spell ‘gratuitous’ correctly.

Twist clapped her hooves and rubbed them together. “Just what I thought...” she muttered. “Button! How are the costumes?”

“I built a powered suit of armour for myself,” Button replied. “But it doesn’t really work. An armoured carriage, however, should be ready soon, if I get those death rays you talked about...”

“You’ll get them once I get the rubber bands.” Twist turned back to Nursery. “What do you think about our base?”

“I have a feeling that we sit here illegally,” Nursery replied.

“Don’t worry,” Twist said. “Soon we’ll have sentry guns here. Nopony will question our right to this place.”

“Now I’m worried,” Nursery deadpanned. “So, you have a base... I guess there’s also some sick bay here?”

“Yes,” Twist replied. “Complete with a lab. We’re funded by the government with this one.”

“How?” Nursery raised her eyebrows. “I mean, I could always use a new lab for my experiments...”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Twist said. “It’s a perfect system. They don’t know what they’re funding and even if they do, they’ll never get to us.”

“Okay,” Nursery muttered. “Can I see the lab?”

“Later.” Twist turned to Button. “The thing is, we have perfect conditions to have our own group of superheroes. But now, we have to find some superheroes who’d want to work with us...”

Button scratched his head. “Hmm... How about an ad in some newspapers? Also, if we’re supported by the government, shouldn’t they help us?”

Twist and Nursery gave Button a weird look. He couldn’t help but wonder how their expressions looked nearly identical, although Twist’s seemed a bit more condescending. Button couldn’t quite put his hoof on it, but what he saw in Nursery’s face worried him even more than Twist thinking he was an idiot.

“Is he serious?” Nursery asked. “You know I only started to research sarcasm and I get many false positive results…”

“You know, it’s actually something between ‘it’s a bad idea’ and ‘it’s the only idea’,” Twist said. “But how can we do that without blowing our cover?”

“Pretend that you need ponies for a freakshow.” Nursery turned to Button. “With his look, everypony will believe that.”

“But still, what’s with us and the government?” Button asked, scratching his head.

“The less you know, the better,” Twist replied. “This is, in fact, just a… branch, I’d say.”

“Branch of what?” Button asked.

Twist smacked Button in the back of his head. “Don’t think about it. Write that ad.”

The sun rose above Ponyville. Tootsie Flute ran out of her little house in the city centre and jumped on the grass. She saw a pony delivering newspapers and rushed to him.

Every day since she’d learned to read, she was buying newspapers. Mostly, she was reading things such as articles about flowers, weather team reports, and obituaries. She was also a fan of crosswords and sudoku, even though she had trouble with the former due to being hopelessly dyslectic.

Today, however, the first thing that attracted her attention was a large advertisement right in the middle of the newspaper.

Do you have a rare skill or talent you think you could utilise to make other ponies’ lives better? Do doctors wonder about strange conditions you have? Have you ever considered getting money for having fun? Seek no longer! We offer professional advice as well as help in starting up! We’re waiting for you in our office in Horseshoe Ring 85, everyday from 8 AM to 3 PM!

PS. We’re totally not a group of superheroes.

Tootsie raised her head from the newspaper. “Bloody hell...” she whispered.

Issue 2: Tagalong The Immortal Filly!

Button was sitting at his desk in the small office at Horseshoe Ring. They still had to pay rent for it – they didn’t want to lead potential candidates to their secret headquarters. He looked into his notes and at the blue filly who was standing in front of him with a lead pipe in her teeth.

“Aren’t you that filly Twist’s sister adopted?” Button asked. “Tootsie Flute or something?”

“Yeah, dat’s me,” Tootsie Flute replied. “Ya’re trying to get ponies to dat group of superheroes, right?”

“How do you–”

“Ya said ya ain’t doing dat,” Tootsie replied, smirking. “Dat was clever, but not for a pony wiff my instinct.”

“So, your skill is your instinct, right?” Button asked, taking notes.

“Yep. Ma and Pa were cockneighs,” Tootsie said, sighing. “Dey were walking around, beating ponies and I continue dat tradition.”

Button wrote something in his notes quickly. “So, your parents...”

Tootsie smacked him in the face. “My parents are dead!” she exclaimed. “Dey met a bunch of Manechester United fans...”

“I understand...” Button muttered, grabbing the edge of the desk and getting up from the floor. “Nice right hook, by the way...”

“Yeah.” Tootsie smiled proudly. “Ma’s lesson. Anyway, I ‘ad no bees and da ponies in da orphanage were a bunch of berks and khybers, so when Lyra and Bon Bon decided to adopt me, I was happy like a lark. Dey’re bale of hay, but who cares.”

“Y-yes...” Button muttered. “If you say so...”

“Dey sometimes speak weird and I can’t understand ‘em.” Tootsie shrugged.

“I wonder why.” Button sighed. “So, you beat ponies and have some kind of a sixth sense, right?”

“Right. And I love flowers,” Tootsie said. “Dey grow best on bodies.”

“Do you have any costume?” Button asked, deciding not to ask a question that appeared in the back of his head. Something was telling him that it wouldn’t be safe.

“Well, let me get my weasel and stoat...” Tootsie left the office. When she came back, she was wearing a domino mask and a tight suit in the colours of the flag of Great Bridletain.

“Umm... Right.” Button muttered. He had quite a different idea of stealth, but he decided to keep that to himself. “What’s your pseudonym?”

“Captain Cockneigh,” Tootsie replied, levitating a monkey wrench. “And this is my trusty assistant, Father Ted. Insult ‘im and ya’re dead.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Button muttered, giving Tootsie a piece of paper. “This is where we usually meet. Remember the address and destroy this message.”

“Da ad said sumfin’ about Fluffy Bunny...” Tootsie muttered.

“What?” Button scratched his mane.

“Y’know... Pie and mash...”

“Mash? Sounds familiar...” Button said.

“Bits.” Tootsie said with a sigh. “Ya said about bits...”

“You’ll have to talk to my boss,” Button replied. “Though I’m sure she’ll find something. See you later, Captain Cockneigh...”

When he was finally left alone in his office, he sighed and smacked his head against his desk. Twist and Nursery Rhyme were already a bit intimidating – well, for Button every filly was intimidating – but Tootsie was certainly stealing a cake. While beating the baker to death with Father Ted.

He had no chance to get his bearings – somepony was knocking on the door.

“Come in,” Button muttered.

“Hello, my name is Snails and I’ve heard that you’re looking for superheroes...”

“Wait, what?”

Button sighed and put the quill back on the desk. He’d been sitting there all morning and so far there was still only one name on his list. Many ponies came to his office to present their superpowers. Most of them were lame or nonexistent. Button wasn’t sure of many things about that whole team of masked vigilantes, but he was pretty sure that “knowledge of the names of all the metal bassists in Equestria and the Griffon Empire”, “throwing stones at ponies”, and “reading the future from piss” weren’t useful in fighting crime.

Button banged his head against the desk and looked at the list in front of him. The longer he stared at it, the more he was sure that Twist wouldn’t be happy about the fact that the only candidate he found was a strange pony wearing a costume made of a flag and talking in rhyme slang. Not to mention that Tootsie was technically Twist’s niece.

He was about to call it a day and go home. After all, every minute of renting the office was costing him a lot of bits and he wasn’t sure how much he could take from Twist’s account without her parents noticing. Besides, he had the projects of some new gadgets in his mind and he wanted to go to his workshop and try if they’d work.

Suddenly, somepony knocked on the door. Button raised his head. “Come in,” he muttered.

The door opened. The pony behind them was a short filly with pale yellow coat, orange mane and lots of freckles. She was wearing a filly scout’s uniform.

“I don’t want any cookies, thank you,” Button said. “Though if you have whisky...”

He didn’t really drink whisky. Nopony wanted to sell it to him.

“I’ve heard you’re looking for ponies with superpowers,” the filly scout said. “My name’s Ginger Snap and my secret identity is Tagalong.”

Button grabbed the quill and wrote it on the parchment. “So, what is your superpower?” he asked. Two was always better than one. Even if the team was to consist of a hooligan and a filly scout.

“I have an infinite number of lives,” Tagalong replied.

“In what game?” Button asked, sighing. If she had immortality cheats in any of his favourite games, he could report her to the mods. He was sick of cheaters.

“In life,” Tagalong replied. “I discovered it when I tried to sell cookies to some creep and he shot me.”

Button raised his eyebrows. “So, you’re, like, immortal?” he asked.

“No.”

“Invicible? Bulletproof?”

“No,” Tagalong replied. “I’m gonna show you.” She produced a shotgun from her saddlebags. Button cowered behind his desk – it had a built-in flamethrower, but before he was able to reach it, Tagalong put the barrel in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

Button’s jaw dropped. He had recently painted the walls in the office and it seemed that he’d have to do that again. Not to mention that there was now a big, red blot right in the middle of his notes. He just started to calculate the costs of a new carpet, when he realised that something icky had landed in his mane. He rushed to close the blinds, wondering whether to call Twist and Nursery or try to get rid of the body himself. Technically, he knew the theory, but...

Fwoosh!

“So, just like I told you, I have infinite amount of lives,” Tagalong said, standing in the middle of the room and looking at the splatter on the walls. “Nice,” she muttered. “Never seen such a big one...”

“It happened... more than once?” Button asked, staring at Tagalong with wide eyes. He was sure of two things: that he was not going to like that and that Twist and Nursery would love that.

“Sure,” Tagalong replied. “And I’m completely regenerated. Do you know that when I chip a tooth, it’s faster to jump out of the window than go to the dentist?”

Button nodded, still too busy thinking about the mess in the office and not caring about the excited, shotgun-wielding filly scout. He just found some white and green sphere under his desk and felt his stomach twitching when she realised that the sphere was staring back at him.

“So, am I in?” Tagalong asked. “Or should I do that again?” She raised her shotgun, making Button wonder where she got it. Definitely it was for a badge.

“No, of course not!” Button rushed to his notes and started to write quickly, leaving a bloody smudge on the parchment. “You’re in.”

Author's Note

Spoiler: Button's superpower is absolute immunity to weird stuff happening around him.

Issue 3: The Curious Case of the Potato Mare!

Button climbed up the stairs and turned on the lights. Tootsie Flute followed him, her monkey wrench and lead pipe making a lot of noise as she was walking. Her jaw dropped when she saw the headquarters of the newly-formed superhero group, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she followed Button inside, half-singing, half-humming some song about bubbles.

The room changed a bit since the first meeting. Now it had a large screen on one of the walls, flashing messages about all the team members. Under it, there was a radar and several smaller monitors. A few old, comfortable armchairs were standing around the large, round table.

“It seems that the rest isn’t here yet,” Button said. “Take a seat. Do you want some tea?”

“Sure, it’s five o’clock after all,” Tootsie replied, jumping on one of the armchairs. Button heard the metal plates hitting each other – Tootsie had told him that she’d reinforced her costume with pieces of an old stove. It restricted her movement a bit, but she seemed to be used to that, making Button wonder how often she wore it before she met them.

“The rest of the guys will be here soon,” Button said, preparing the tea. “If you really want to drink that, don’t ask Tagalong to show how her superpower works. I’d rather not clean this place… again.”

Tootsie shrugged. “I ain’t bovvered by nuffin’,” she muttered.

“So, you can be bothered by something...” Button replied, putting a cup of tea in front of Tootsie Flute. She levitated it in a way suggesting that she considered throwing it at him, but stopped herself eventually.

“Button? Are you here?” Twist called from the corridor. She opened the door and walked inside, followed by Nursery Rhyme. “And what are you doing here?”

Tootsie choked on her tea. “Auntie Twist? Auntie Nursery?” she exclaimed. “Since when are ya superheroes?”

“Stop referring to us like we were centuries old,” Twist muttered. “You’re older than us.”

“Only a few months,” Tootsie replied, sipping her tea. “Anyway, I’m Captain Cockneigh now. Da Slayer of Villains and Manechester United fans. I shall protect da weak and steal da wallets from da rich. I will steal your ‘earts.” She smirked. “Wiff one cut along da breastbone…”

“Seen that coming,” Nursery muttered, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, Button, of all the ponies in Ponyville, you had to hire our niece? She has no superpowers whatsoever. I checked, you know. But at least I found somepony with true superpowers.”

Button squinted his eyes. “Oh really? I can’t see anypony...”

“Just wait a minute...”

Suddenly, something hit one of the windows, breaking it. Button looked at the object rolling towards him and realised that it was an exceptionally large potato. A second later, a unicorn filly jumped inside, using a rope which looked like a thick vine. She was wearing an olive-coloured suit, complete with a green mask domino mask and matching socks on her hind legs. She also had chest insignia: an old metal pot cover with a potato painted crudely on it.

“Potato Mare, at your service!” the filly exclaimed, saluting and nearly knocking her mask off.

“True superpowers, huh?” Button muttered. “Those windows cost quite a bit, you know. And what exactly is wrong with her?”

“Tell him,” Nursery said. “You know, I’ve met her in the hospital...”

“We were on a school trip in the laboratory,” the Potato Mare said. She had some peculiar speech impediment; however, it’d sometimes disappear for a sentence or two, replaced by somewhat low-pitched tone, as if she had sore throat. “I accidentally sat on a genetically-modified potato, which stuck, umm... inside. Before they managed to remove it, it grew and now I’m a... umm...”

“A pony-plant hybrid,” Nursery said. “The stem of the plant replaced her spinal cord and implanted itself in her brain. Her nerves are made of a mix of neurons and plant cells. I bet she uses photosynthesis, though further research on that subject is needed.” Nursery smiled at Potato Mare and patted her mane. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

“So, what exactly can you do?” Button asked, taking a closer look at Potato Mare. Hybrids were quite cool in his book. Just behind robots, ninjas, and robot ninjas.

“I can shoot potatoes,” the masked filly replied.

“Shoot potatoes from where?” Button asked against his better judgement.

The filly showed him. At the end of demonstration, Tootsie put her tea on the table and pushed it far from herself. They also had another broken window and Button wished he’d brought brain bleach. Part of him was wondering how the filly could aim when facing away from the opponent, but it was probably yet another of her potato-based powers. Button hadn’t seen many aggressive potatoes, but he expected them to somehow hit their enemies. Otherwise they wouldn’t be called aggressive potatoes, right?

“It’s great,” Twist said. “She can knock somepony out with those... And we can make fries!”

“Ya mean chips,” Tootsie muttered. “And I ain’t gonna eat ‘em...”

“While we’re at it,” Nursery said, “she doesn’t have to eat. Photosynthesis is the future of ponykind, I’m telling you.”

“If dat involves stickin’ a potato up one’s bottle and glass, den I’ll pass,” Tootsie muttered. “Also, where’s dat girl ya talked ‘bout?”

“What girl?” Twist asked. “Who else did you hire?”

“You’ll see.” Button smirked. “She’s–”

“Hello, everypony!” Tagalong exclaimed, standing at the top of the stairs.

“Sweet Celestia!” Twist shouted. “Filly scouts discovered us!”

“What?” the Potato Mare turned, aiming at Tagalong, and shot a potato at her. Her aim was indeed amazing. The projectile hit the filly scout in the middle of the forehead, pushing her down the stairs. They heard a series of grunts, thuds and cracks, followed by silence.

“I think you killed her,” Nursery Rhyme whispered. “That sounded like multiple broken bones and possible internal haemorrhage...”

“The government will cover this,” Twist said. “Along with broken windows. Don’t worry about that.”

“Which government exactly supports us?” Button looked at the door unsurely.

Fwoosh!

“What was that?” Nursery asked.

“That, my dear, was the future of ponykind.” Button smiled triumphantly. At the same moment, they heard Tagalong calling from the downstairs.

“Hey, guys! I got hit by the potato! I’ve never died that way before!”

“Before?” Nursery lifted her eyebrows.

“Long story,” Button muttered. “Don’t shoot her next time and maybe she’ll tell it to you.”

After a while, everypony was finally at the table. Twist put her notes in front of her, while Tootsie started to hit her lead pipe idly against her armchair. The Potato Mare took off her mask.

“I know you,” Button said. “You’re Dinky Hooves, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Dinky replied. “And it’s ‘Dinky Do’, actually. No relation with Daring Do, though. She comes from Do’s from Vanhoover and mom is from Do’s from Cloudsdale. Sometimes called Hooves because there’s another family of Do’s in Cloudsdale and…” Her voice cracked. “I wonder if anyone actually listens to you.”

“I still wonder how did our little friend survive the fall...” Nursery Rhyme muttered, staring at Tagalong.

“I brought the shotgun,” Tagalong said. “I can show...”

“Not here, please, for Celestia’s sake,” Button muttered. “For some reason, her blood doesn’t disappear. She just, umm… goes all ‘fwoosh!’ and she’s back.”

“Not only blood.” Tagalong smiled innocently. “When I was trying to get the Lumberjack Badge, I had a chainsaw accident and woke up surrounded by severed limbs.”

“Interesting...” Nursery grabbed a piece of paper and started to take notes. “The older nurses told me about limbs, blood, and other body parts suddenly appearing in the forests and belonging seemingly to the same pony. The police was investigating them and they all indeed belonged to the same pony, but there were more of them than a pony should have. Like, four kidneys, seven legs, everything with the same DNA. Everyone thinks it’s just an urban legend. I guess your DNA is not in any database?”

“Probably not,” Tag replied. “I was trying to hide them, usually.”

Nursery nodded. “Hmm, to think about it, if we have urban legends, shouldn’t we also have rural legends? That’d fit the seven legs belonging to one filly more, since they were found in the forest.”

“I believe they’re called ‘folk tales’,” Tagalong replied. “Like that one out scoutmaster told us, about a colt who was bad to bugs, so a changeling queen turned him into a big spider everypony wanted to kill.”

Twist cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she said. “I think we should focus on fighting evil now. Although Button and I watched the town for last few nights, we found no trace of criminal activity...”

“So, does it mean that we won?” Dinky asked. “Yay! I like winning!”

“No, it means we ‘ave to look for it,” Tootsie replied. “Where’s da root of all evil?”

“In the hearts of ponies who don’t buy cookies,” Tagalong muttered.

“I was gonna say Manechester, but ya’ve a point, mate.” Tagalong grabbed her monkey wrench and waved it, almost hitting Nursery. “So, if dere’s no evil, we need to find it. Or beat somepony until dey agree to be evil so we can beat ‘em once again.”

“I know!” Twist exclaimed. “Everything bad in this town comes from the Everfree Forest! We have to go there!”

“Hmm... I could finally get a Timberwolves Tamer Badge...” Tagalong said. “I still don’t have that one.”

“Is there such a badge?” Twist asked, suddenly doubting the sanity of her new friend. “Nursery, how many filly scouts with that badge do you know?”

“None. We bring them directly to the morgue,” Nursery Rhyme replied. “Usually in a few bags.” She shrugged. “But still no badge.”

“Okay...” Button said. “So, Nursery and I will stay here as the mission control, while you’ll go to the Everfree, right?”

“We’ll use the armoured carriage,” Twist replied, showing the rest the blueprint. “It’s pedal-powered, so nopony is outside. It’s armed with two death rays. We’ll go to the old castle in the Everfree and face evil...”

“How are you going to face evil if you don’t have a secret identity?” Button asked. “Also, I’m not sure if this thing works. We haven’t tested it against anypony stronger than Apple Bloom and it fell apart when she kicked it.”

“I’m the driver,” Twist said. “The rest will face evil. This will be a test. And don’t worry about the armour, I reinforced it with a ton of concrete.”

“I still see a problem…” Button raised his hoof, but nopony noticed him.

“Well, I’m in for asskickin’.” Tootsie smirked. “How ‘bout ya, gals?”

“Sure,” Dinky said.

“I want to spread good,” Tagalong added.

“Nice to hear that,” Twist said, smiling grimly. “So, let’s go...”

Author's Note

They gathered the party and now they can venture forth.

Trivia 1: The concept of the Potato Mare is the oldest in the fic, dating back to, as some of you may guess, a sequel of Well, This is Awkward. Which was coincidentally narrated by Nursery Rhyme.
Trivia 2: The oldest bit of Mission Control I wrote is Tag's introduction from the last chapter. It was written on 1st February 2015, over a year ago.
Trivia 3: Bootsy and I have a file somewhere with all the notes on Silver Spoonerverse we created so far. 90% of this content is unused.
Pictures:
A really old picture of Tag, Dinky, and Tootsie (can be also spotted in the background of the coverart); drawn before I started writing the fic in March 2015.
The first concept of Dinky (non-canon now)
Dinky's canon outfit
Tagalong's canon outfit

Issue 4: Into the Everfree!

The night’s silence was torn by a low-flying drone floating above the Everfree Forest. Button had “borrowed” Tank for a day to reverse engineer his helicopter. He got a face full of lightning bolts and rain when Rainbow Dash noticed, but it was worth it – now, he and Nursery could observe the strange carriage slowly crawling towards the forest.

Well, at least Rainbow Dash apologised when she noticed that it was him.

“I’m a bit nervous,” Nursery Rhyme muttered, watching the screens. “What if they get defeated?”

“They have enough firepower to survive a zombie apocalypse,” Button replied. “And trust me, I know what I’m talking about. Also, this carriage’s walls are lined with scrap metal, and reinforced with bags of sand. Not to mention the ton of concrete.”

“No wonder it drives so slowly,” Nursery said, watching as the vehicle reached the first trees. “You need to think about some better way of powering it. Maybe something potato-based?”

“Maybe...” Button started to think. If enough potatoes were connected with wire... “Do you think I’d be able to do that?”

“Of course.” Nursery smiled. “You and Twist are so wise...”

Button’s face became red. “Let’s fly it a bit higher,” he said. “We need to look for dangers...”

“Why is dat damn piece of manure so heavy?” Tootsie Flute exclaimed. She was trying to keep pace while Twist navigated the vehicle between the bushes. Sweat was soaking her costume; the carriage had only a few small windows and the inside felt like a fireplace.

“It must be,” Twist replied. “Otherwise, a monster would crush us...”

“What monster?” Tagalong asked. Her costume was basically a green raincoat, so she was sweating even worse than her friends.

“A hypothetical one. Assume a spherical, frictionless piece of bone, muscles, and trace amounts of nerve tissue that tries to break the outer shell’s integrity...”

“In other words, a big, dumb bargain hunt tryin’ to ram into us?” Tootsie Flute asked.

“More or less.” Twist shrugged. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘bargain hunt’, but–”

“I have a Rhyme Slang Badge,” Tagalong said. “When she says ‘bargain hunt’, she actually means cu–”

“Okay, thank you,” Twist said. “Anyway, we should withstand such an attack... for a minute or so.”

“Reassuring,” Tootsie deadpanned. “We’d be able to run da whole five inches away. Useful if we’re caught by a giant, fire-spewing snail.”

Twist didn’t listen to her, trying to contact Button. “How’s our route?” she asked.

Through a heavy layer of static, mostly caused by the vehicle’s armour, Button’s voice could be heard. “You’ve just went past the field of poison joke. It’s clear now, I think.”

“Poison joke?” Tootsie asked. “I need to get some on our way back. I don’t ‘ave any in my collection.”

“Better not,” Dinky said. “Tubby doesn’t like poison joke. He also doesn’t like candies and doctors.”

“Who’s Tubby?” Tootsie asked, before she remembered that some things were better left unknown. Unless one was Nursery Rhyme. If she was told that it’s better not to know something, she’d go to that thing and take a photo for her scrapbook.

“My potato,” Dinky replied, smiling in a rather uncanny way. “Sometimes, when I sleep, Tubby talks to me. And we have nice dreams...”

“Nevermind.” Tootsie sighed, realising that she really didn’t want to know. “How far is to da castle? And why’s da Mission Control silent?”

“So, I’ve never had time for colts,” Nursery Rhyme said. “It’s kinda hard when you’re a genius and your twin sister is also a genius… You know, I barely had time to figure out sarcasm. It’s amazing how many things I missed. Amazing… and sad.”

Button nodded, trying to look at the cameras from time to time, while paying attention to what Nursery was saying. At least there was enough empty space in his head to create an echo, making Nursery’s voice louder.

“I kinda want to do something big,” Nursery continued. “That’s why I’m hanging out with you all. All those unexplained skills... Can you imagine how famous I’d be?”

“You’ve mentioned something about colts...” Button said.

“Yeah. I don’t have time for them.” Nursery shrugged. “I sacrifice them to science. But you are different. Maybe I wouldn’t have to sacrifice you?”

“Well...” Button felt that, despite two broken windows, there was quite hot in the room. “I think you are pretty nice, Nursery, and–”

“Is that why you’re still looking at my sister?” Nursery asked. “You just want to be with her...”

“No, I mean...” Button scratched his mane. “Well, she is nice, but so are you… Maybe because you’re almost identical, but she has glasses and, umm… she has that cute little speech impediment, while you don’t... And…” He felt a mental equivalent of charging into a wall.

“So, what do I have?” Nursery asked.

Button raised his eyebrows. “You have… You have… nice eyes.” He sighed with relief of someone who’d just walked across a minefield. In this territory, one had to always tread carefully.

“Tread carefully,” Twist said, watching as the rest of the fillies left the carriage. “It’s some swamp or something...”

Their carriage was standing, buried in the mud to its axles. Tootsie tried to use her lead pipe as a lever, but without any effect, apart from bending it slightly.

“The castle shouldn’t be far from here,” Tagalong said. “Maybe we should leave the carriage and get it back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’ll surely be easier...” Tootsie muttered. She patted the back of the carriage with her hoof and groaned.

“We’ll call Button,” Tagalong said, trotting away from the carriage. Twist also left it and walked with the rest of the group.

“Speaking of Button...” Twist adjusted her radio. “What the hell is he doing? I can hear his drone from here, but I don’t receive any messages...”

“Radio dies first,” Dinky muttered. “Then the zebra. Then the screaming filly…”

Tootsie glared at her asked. “Should I put summfin’ else up yer Tijuana brass?” she asked. “Ya’re askin’ for it, mate.”

“Girls, stop arguing,” Tagalong said. “Arguments will lead us to nowhe–” Suddenly, she bumped into something she first thought to be a tree. At least till the tree grabbed her with its teeth and bit off her head.

“Timberwolves!” Tootsie exclaimed, jamming her lead pipe in the eye socket of another timberwolf. Twist turned back to see that one of the creatures was standing between them and their carriage.

Fwoosh!

“Timberwolves!” Tagalong exclaimed, dodging another beast. A potato hit it, causing it to look around and charge at Dinky, probably because she looked the most like one. Tagalong dodged a few more timberwolves and tried to punch one in the hind legs. The timberwolf didn’t even notice that.

“Not so fast!” Tootsie exclaimed, jumping on the timberwolf’s back and smacking it with the monkey wrench. “Meet Father Ted!”

Another potato hit the timberwolf. It turned, almost causing Tootsie to fall. She grabbed some twigs while trying to smash the creature’s head into splinters.

“Maybe a little help?” Twist asked, dodging an attack of another timberwolf, which turned, roaring at her.

“I’m helping!” Tagalong shouted, charging blindly at two tons of twigs, logs, and branches. She bounced off it and collapsed. The timberwolf stomped on her, spraying blood around.

Fwoosh!

“I’m helping! Aargh!”

Fwoosh!

“Sweet Celestia...” Tootsie muttered. She rolled on the ground and smashed the timberwolf’s hind legs while Dinky knocked it out with a well-aimed potato.

“Aargh! They’re tearing me apart!”

Fwoosh!

“Tagalong! Try to distract that one!” Twist exclaimed, pointing at the timberwolf blocking the way to the carriage. Tootsie jammed Father Ted in the mouth of the nearest wolf and fired a magic bolt at it, setting it on fire.

“Bad idea!” Twist shouted, watching at the burning timberwolf ran into the forest, knocking down Tagalong. The one that was standing by the carriage ran to her, grabbed her with its teeth and threw her at the nearby tree.

Twist was already in the carriage. The death rays moved and fired, causing the timberwolf to burst into steam and loose twigs, smelling slightly of burnt tree sap. The other two looked at each other and ran away into the forest.

“Nice fight...” Tootsie panted. Her outfit was torn in a few places. “Where’s da radio... Need to talk to somepony...”

“Tagalong!” Dinky exclaimed, seeing that the filly was still lying unconscious under the tree. It seemed that her spine was broken in a few places; blood was pouring from her mouth and nose.

“Did she run out of lives?” Twist asked, leaning from the carriage and almost throwing up upon the sight. “How lame.”

Tagalong groaned and opened one eye. “Not this again...” she muttered, spitting a few teeth out.

“Not what again?” Tootsie asked. “Da timberwolf part or da tree part?”

“Somepony... has to... reset me...” Tagalong replied, groaning.

“How?” Tootsie asked.

“Something... heavy… applied...”

“Here ya go,” Tootsie replied, levitating Father Ted and swung it at Tagalong’s head, trying not to think about what she was aiming at or what sprayed on her hooves.

Fwoosh!

“Thanks,” Tagalong said, stretching her legs. “When something fails to kill you... That’s the worst.”

“Please, don’t make me do dat again...” Tootsie stared at Father Ted and shuddered. “Ain’t good, killin’ yer friends.”

“Next time we can use the death rays,” Twist said.

“Better not,” Tagalong replied. “If I’m evaporated, I can come back in mid-air and fall. Or a few metres from here… Just about anywhere.”

“Okay.” Twist nodded and grabbed the radio. “Button, for Luna’s sake, what are you doing there?”

Finally, they heard Button’s voice. “Hi guys... I must’ve zoned off...”

“And you missed a herd of timberwolves walking towards us?” Twist exclaimed. “Tagalong died!”

“What?”

“Five times and I actually counted!” Twist groaned. “We’re stuck in the middle of the swamp!”

“How many timberwolves did you kill?” Button asked.

“Not enough to stop me from killing you! What were you doing?”

“Actually, it may have been my fault,” Nursery muttered. “We were talking and we kinda forgot to look at the screen.”

Twist sighed and slammed her head against the steering wheel of the carriage, causing some death rays to go off, burning the foliage.

“Does it mean Button’s my uncle now?” Tootsie asked innocently.

Luckily for her, Twist’s reply drowned in howling of more timberwolves approaching them. “Everypony inside,” she ordered. They hid in the carriage and locked the door, cowering on the floor.

“What now?” Tootsie asked, hearing the timberwolves approaching them. Before anypony could reply, the whole carriage shook, as the timberwolf rammed into its side.

Another wolf hit the front of the carriage, causing it to roll out of the swamp. Twist jumped to the controls and started pedalling.

“Ya do realise we’d run faster than drivin’ dat jam jar?” Tootsie asked, watching as Twist fired the death ray at the timberwolf jumping above their carriage.

“Do you have a better idea?!” Twist exclaimed.

“I dunno, but I’ve ‘eard we ‘ave a timberwolf tamer on board!” Tootsie exclaimed, pointing at Tagalong. A few boards cracked when a timberwolf hit the carriage, bending the metal sheets and crushing some concrete.

“Well, the noise scares them...” Tagalong replied.

“What noise?” Tootsie grabbed her wrench and lead pipe and banged them against each other. “Dat noise?” She moved closer to the wall, banging at it with her weapons and screaming, “Hey, ya! Havin’ a giggle there, mate? I’m gonna wreck ya, I swear on me mum!”

“Which one?” Twist asked quietly, navigating through the bushes and towards the road.

“Not yer business!” Tootsie shouted. Behind the small window of the carriage, a timberwolf shuddered and backed away slightly. “D’ya fink I forgot Truffle Shuffle?”

“I smell some family feud.” Dinky covered her ears with her hooves. “Shh, Tubby, don’t listen to them.”

“What the hay do you mean?!” Twist yelled. The nearest timberwolf missed the carriage and rammed into the nearby tree.

“I wanted to give ‘im a card on ‘earts and ‘ooves day!” Tootsie exclaimed. “But of course ya ‘ad to–”

“Someone take that pipe from her,” Twist muttered. “She’s channeling the ghosts of her parents... Last time it happened, auntie Lyra had to buy a new table.”

“Just try,” Tootsie said to Tagalong who approached her, trying to grab her pipe. “Ya’ll need a regeneration...”

“Excuse me...” Dinky said. “The timberwolves ran away. Just letting you know.”

“Okay...” Tootsie sighed and sat on the floor. “Sorry, auntie...”

“He wasn’t worth it, really,” Twist said. “It’ll take a whole night before we get this thing back to our base... And getting the cheese out of my coat was a nightmare...”

“So, we’re not going to the castle?” Tagalong asked.

“No,” Tootsie replied. “I ‘ave to talk to Button...”

“From one to ten, how strong is the pain?” Nursery asked, watching Button cowering on the floor and clutching his crotch. Tootsie was walking around them, smirking.

“Nine,” Button muttered, gritting his teeth.

“He’s lyin’,” Tootsie said, flipping the lead pipe with her magic. “Or I ain’t hit ‘im hard enough...”

“Actually, ten,” Button muttered quickly. “Also, I think we learned a lot from that trip...”

“Yeah,” Tootsie muttered. “Safety of yer jewels depends of our safety.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Button said, standing up and groaning. Twist, Dinky, and Tagalong walked to the table and sat at it, each with a cup of tea in front of them.

“So, what did you mean?” Twist asked.

“I prepared a presentation.” Button walked to the control panel and pulled a lever. “First, the armoured carriage is slow and can get stuck in rough terrain, but its armour and weapons work. Second, Tootsie is good at fighting and Dinky provides support from the distance, though potatoes lack penetration.”

“I can exercise,” Dinky said. “Tubby says it’s possible.”

Button decided to ignore that. “Last thing: Tagalong. You died five times. Are you sure you want–”

“Yes,” Tagalong replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I think you’re not ready,” Twist said.

Tagalong’s face became red. “And who told you about noise?”

“Okay, that was good,” Twist replied. “But you shouldn’t be in direct combat, I think.”

“I can distract ponies,” Tagalong said. “And scare them.”

“We’ll see,” Button said, looking at Nursery. “I think we can all use some sleep... Tomorrow we’ll think about tactics...”

Author's Note

Trivia 1: Tootsie's first words were "Grievous bodily harm". Her parents were proud.
Trivia 2: Nursery and Twist's extended family owns about four secret labs. Including a lab Lyra took from the animal shelter and was hiding it from Bon Bon for years.
Trivia 3: Bon Bon wasn't amused when she heard that pun. But she liked the lab.

Issue 5: Speedsters!

Button yawned. Spending a night in the tower definitely wasn’t the best idea, considering the fact that he had to go to school. He considered playing sick to stay in bed, but his mother saw through it all too easily and threatened to take his games away from him.

Button sighed. She’d left him no choice.

“Hello!”

Button raised his head and turned to see Nursery Rhyme. She was wearing her nurse outfit. Her saddlebags were full of papers and books. Button’s stomach twitched.

Play it cool... Button thought. “W-what’s up?” he asked.

“I made a psychological evaluation of our team members,” Nursery replied, getting a piece of paper from her saddlebags. “Morale dropped after that trip to the Everfree...”

“Tell me about it...” Button hissed, thinking of Tootsie Flute. “We screwed it up.”

“Tootsie voices the most concern out of the group members.”

“Who’d have guessed?” Button shrugged. “I have to go to school, you know.”

“I have the results of Dinky’s IQ test. She’s slightly more intelligent than a potato.”

Button stopped. “Well, I think that’s how ponies are supposed to be?”

Nursery shook her head. “Yes, but ‘slightly’ is the keyword here. I’d say that she may not follow your plans, but rather make her own on a spot.”

“So, what exactly makes her different from ponies in my guild?” Button asked, remembering how all the members of his raid group died because of a certain paladin who charged blindly into battle. “Oh wait, I think she is in my guild...”

Nursery shrugged. “I have no idea. But anyway, I think we should do something to raise morale...”

“A gaming night?” Button asked. “Pizza, snacks, and the co-op mode of Lunar Guards: The Griffonian War.”

“Pizza would be great.” Nursery smirked. “I’ll tell the rest. See you, Button...” She kissed Button’s cheek and walked down the street. Button rushed to school, his face bright red.

It took Button two lessons to get back to more or less normal mental state. He was barely listening to what Ms. Cheerilee was saying, too focused on staring at the back of Twist’s head.

“You got an A for your spelling test,” Cheerilee said, standing next to him. “Button?”

“Yes?” Button snapped out of trance.

“You got an A for your spelling test.” Cheerilee sighed. “And I need to talk with your mother. You were sleeping for the most of the lesson. Tootsie Flute... You got an F.”

“Why?” Tootsie groaned. “I told ya dat dere can be ‘u’ in ‘neighbour’...”

“Yes, I took that into account,” Cheerilee replied. “But I’m pretty sure that there’s no ‘a’ in ‘neighbour’...”

Tootsie sighed and was sitting silently until the class was dismissed. When the recess started, she walked outside with Button and Twist.

“Dammit,” Tootsie muttered, banging her hoof against the wall. “I’m a bloody superhero and I get an F?”

“Shh...” Twist looked around. “Nopony can know.”

Tootsie sighed. “Dis sucks...”

“By the way,” Button said. “Nursery said that we should do something to boost the group’s morale. I proposed a gaming night.”

“What game are we playin’?” Tootsie asked. “Is dat sumfin’ dat requires lotsa plannin’, deep strategy, and figurin’ out complex tasks in a few seconds?”

Button raised his eyebrows. “N-no... I was actually thinking of Lunar Guards: The Griffonian War, but if you–”

“Good,” Tootsie said. “I dream of smashin’ ‘eads...”

Twist rolled her eyes behind Tootsie’s back. “While we’re at it,” she whispered, “I came up with a pseudonym for myself. When we’re costumed, I’m The T.”

“Sure,” Button said. “But do you even have a costume? Last time you and Tag–”

“Ginger,” Twist said. “Her name is Ginger Snap, remember. Okay, I’ll tell Dinky about the gaming night. And by the way, bring the costumes with you. Just in case.”

“Okay,” Tootsie replied, walking back towards the class.

The moon was shining brightly over a small village in the middle of the Griffon Empire. Captain Zipper, a tall bat pony with a blue mane, emerged from the bushes and looked around through the sights of his assault rifle, waiting for his companions.

“Remember,” he said. “We have to catch Colonel Gerhardt alive.”

“Yes, sir,” the other bat pony, Lieutenant Lambada, replied. He was a bulky stallion with dark red mane, wielding a sniper rifle.

“Heard that, Clarinet?” Zipper asked the flamethrower-wielding pony, who looked at the village and smirked. Unlike the others, Clarinet was a thirster – he couldn’t fly, but the use of magic allowed him to carry bigger weapons. “We don’t want another Hoofington, do we?”

“Bugger off,” Clarinet muttered. “That white phosphorus just was there, waiting to be used...”

“Shh...” the last bat pony, Thin Mint, took off and looked at the village. He was carrying a submachine gun and had his camo suit on. “There are a few guards there.”

“I just wanted to say that it’s a stealth-based mission and flamethrowers aren’t stealthy...” Zipper muttered and shook his head. “Thin Mint, look out for tangos. The rest, advance slowly towards the village. Take cover behind the bushes. Clarinet, fire only when we’re caught.”

“Yes, sir.” Clarinet rolled his eyes.

They walked slowly through the grass. Thin Mint was flying above them, whispering into his headset.

“Four tangos on the left...”

“Should I fire?” Lambada asked, aiming his sniper rifle.

“No,” Zipper replied. “You’d shoot one and the rest would alarm that panzer division stationed nearby. We’re going there, grabbing Gerhardt, and get outta here.” He looked at Clarinet. “No own ideas, remember.”

“Hey, what do ya want?” Clarinet asked. “If it wasn’t for my ideas, Equestria would be doomed.”

“Yeah,” Zipper muttered. “Citizens of Hoofington are grateful. Those who aren’t a pile of ashes, that is.”

“Shut up!” Thin Mint exclaimed. “A tango walks towards us!”

“I got it.” Lambada looked through the scope of his rifle. “He’s alone... Not wise.” He pulled the trigger. “Tango down.”

“Good.” Zipper smirked. “We’re approaching the village... Watch out for dogs.”

“Watch out for dogs...” Clarinet muttered, switching to a knife. “Those griffons probably ate every single one–” With a bark, a large doberman caught his foreleg. The rest of the bat ponies took off, while Clarinet stabbed a dog twice. More dogs approached him. Zipper fired at one of them.

“No!” Lambada exclaimed. “They’ll hear us!”

“Dammit!” Clarinet levitated the dog’s body and threw it at two other animals. “I’m sick of dogs...” He took the flamethrower and pulled the trigger. “Go to hell, curs!”

Thin Mint darted towards the rest of the group. “What are you–” He paused seeing the flames reaching the nearby building. “Now they’ll see us all!”

“No way,” Clarinet said. “It’s only some fire...”

“Quick guys! Ammo magazine is on fire!” some griffon shouted. Zipper fired at him.

“Ammo magazine?” Clarinet asked. “Oh, motherfu–” His voice drowned in the sound of explosion. Zipper screamed when debris hit him. Lambada shot at another griffon, but then saw Zipper falling to the ground. A moment later, a burst from a griffonian machine gun ended his life.

Clarinet aimed his flamethrower at the approaching army and lit them on fire. He started to shoot at buildings, trees, and grass around. “Come and get me!” he yelled, seeing the tanks slowly crawling towards him through the blazing hell the village had turned into. “Thin Mint, cover me! We’re gonna win this war!”

Mission failed. Your actions got the rest of the team killed.

“What?” Tootsie Flute exclaimed, throwing the controller on the floor. “I’d totally capture Gerhardt myself! I’d grab da tank, shoot da crew, and drive to catch dat feathery cu–”

“It isn’t called ‘co-op mode’ for nothing,” Button said. “Next time, take a silenced gun on that mission. You’ll cause less destruction.”

“Hey, I died last!” Tagalong exclaimed. “I think I like this game.”

“And I don’t get why do we have to catch Gerhardt alive,” Twist muttered. “I’d fly to his window and pop a cap in his head. After Hoofington, he’s clearly a war criminal.”

“Tootsie’s a war criminal.” Button sighed and shook his head.

“Why don’t we shoot her, then?” Twist asked.

“Because she’s a Lunar Guard. The good guy, you know.”

“I find the morality of this game dubious,” Nursery Rhyme said, grabbing a slice of pizza.

“Can I play now?” Dinky asked.

“Yeah,” Twist said. “You can play as Lambada now. But before you start, I’ll show you my costume...”

The costume in question was a red armour with saddlebags and a pair of goggles. “You can send messages and I’ll see them,” Twist said to Button. “In the saddlebags, I have a death ray, a paint launcher, a rope... You know, Dinky can shoot vines, but there should be more ponies who can climb here.”

Button winced. “Especially since she shoots vines out of–”

“I don’t,” Dinky said. “I just conjure vines with my magic. Tubby taught me.”

“Can’t you do the same with the potatoes?” Button asked.

“No. They have to grow.”

Nursery Rhyme noted something quickly on the pizza box.

“I have a disguise too,” Tagalong said, getting a green cloak from her saddlebags and putting it on. The hood was covering her face completely. “I have a lot of those, so if one gets destroyed, I can get another.”

“Simple but nice,” Twist said. “You can put some utility harness on it too, so you can carry more stuff. A rope, or something...”

“I was thinking of giving her a glider,” Button said. “Since none of us can fly...”

Tootsie gave him a nasty look. “I want a glider.”

“You won’t survive snapping your neck. She will,” Button said. “I’ve never built a glider before.”

“Okay, I ain’t want it.”

Suddenly, they heard a beep. They looked around when Button stood up and grabbed a strange device that was lying on his desk. “The world needs us,” he said.

“Yeah, we still have to save Equestria from the griffons,” Dinky replied, pointing at the screen.

“Not this one,” Button said. “The real world. Twist and I put alarms in the most important buildings in Ponyville. If somepony’s breaking into one, we can hear it.”

“Bloody hell,” Tootsie muttered. “Permanent invigilation...”

“What building are they breaking into?” Tagalong asked, grabbing her green cloak.

Button cleared his throat. “The HayDonald’s...”

Tootsie chuckled. “Ya what, mate?!” She fell on the floor, laughing. “Most important in da town, my bum... HayDonald’s...”

“Somepony is breaking in there while we’re talking,” Twist said, putting on her costume. “This is our chance. If we catch the criminals...”

“If we can beat ‘em...” Tootsie looked around. “Damn. I left my stuff at home...”

“What are we going to do now?” Dinky asked. She was already wearing her armour and mask.

“Don’t worry. It’s on da way.”

Button pushed some knobs on his device. The screen went black and soon lit again, showing the view from several cameras installed around the town. Nursery Rhyme sat on the couch next to him. Twist, Dinky, Tootsie, and Tagalong rushed out of Button’s room.

“I can’t get anything from the HayDonald’s camera,” Button said to the microphone. “Nursery, get the drone!”

“We need to get to Tootsie’s house first, anyway,” Twist muttered. “Dammit, this armour sucks...”

“Maybe we should get the vehicle?” Tagalong asked.

“If you want to get there in two days...” Twist sighed. “We need to make something faster and less armoured.”

“Be right back,” Tootsie said through gritted teeth. “It’s my home.” She rushed through the garden and opened the door. The inside of the house was dark, so she ran upstairs, to her room.

“Are you already back?”

Tootsie froze. “No, mom,” she replied. “I just need sumfin’...” She sighed with relief – unless mommy Bon Bon learned to imitate mommy Lyra’s voice, she was safe.

“Well, I thought this whole puberty thing would hit you in, like, four years or so...”

Tootsie facehoofed. It was definitely her Mommy Number One. Or, as she called her when nopony could hear, Loony.

“But I’m glad that you think about protection,” Lyra continued. “Have fun.”

“Thanks mom.” Tootsie walked to her room and grabbed the costume from under the bed. Then she found Father Ted under the pillow and strapped him to the utility belt. After a few minutes she was ready.

“Were you talking to someone, Lyra?” Tootsie heard the voice of her Mommy Number Two, also known as Grumpy. She froze; Lyra definitely wasn’t the most responsible parent in the world, but Bon Bon had the responsibility for both of them. Unfortunately, that meant that Tootsie’s allowance could soon start to suffer.

“I... I was talking to myself...” Lyra replied.

“And replying?” Tootsie could easily see the Grumpy Mom sighing and rolling her eyes.

“I’m working on my tulpa,” Lyra said quickly. “It talks to me, really.”

“Lyra, sometimes I want to kiss you, and sometimes I want to smack you and take you to the nuthouse. Same with the kid. Where’s she? She’ll end like her biological parents...”

“She’s playing games with Milano’s son. Yeah, playing games. Nothing else.”

Tootsie fought an urge to slam her head against the wall. Instead, she opened the window and sat on the sill.

“Dinky,” she whispered. “Twist?”

“What’s up?” Twist asked.

“I need a hoof,” Tootsie replied. “Not gonna jump from ‘ere.”

“Use the door,” Tagalong said.

“My moms are currently discussing my sex life in the corridor. I can’t walk past them like that,” Tootsie said, rolling her eyes.

“What is sex life?” Tagalong asked.

“Sumfin’ ya can’t get a badge for. Dinky, I need some vine...”

“Okay,” Dinky muttered, charging her horn. A vine shot out of it, sticking to the roof. Tootsie grabbed it and slid down, landing swiftly on the grass.

“Button, how’s the HayDonald’s?” Twist asked when they ran down the empty street.

“Two individuals inside,” Button replied. “You don’t have to hurry, they don’t seem like moving anywhere soon.”

“Good,” Twist said. “Formation Alpha, girls.”

“What?” Tootsie asked.

“Me in the middle, you on my left, the Potato Mare on my right, Tagalong in the back.”

Tootsie looked at Twist unsurely. “I’d rather put Tag in da front and Di– da Potato Mare in da back. She can shoot da attackers and if Tag gets hit, she’ll be okay.”

“Okay, Formation Beta, then.”

“Three seconds to contact,” Button whispered in their headphones. “The suspects are behind the counter...”

“Freeze!” Twist exclaimed, kicking the restaurant’s door open. “Get out with your hooves on display!”

“Who is there?” somepony asked from behind the counter. “Is that police?”

“Nope, some masked vigilantes,” his companion replied.

Twist groaned. “Snips and Snails, right? Get out of there with your hooves on display.”

“Yeah, or I’ll kick your asses so hard T’s sister will make a doctorate by studying ‘em.” Tootsie said, levitating Father Ted.

“Hmm...” Snails looked at the approaching group. “I don’t know them. How do you think, who are they?”

Snips shrugged. “No idea. That accent sounds familiar, but I got nothing.”

“Stop talking and surrender,” Twist said, grabbing a paint gun. “You’re surrounded.”

“What now?” Snips asked, leaning to Snails. “Should we surrender?”

“I’m seriously considering that option,” Snails replied. “There’s four of them and we’re alone... Also, this one has a wrench, that one has a gun, and that little one with a green cape is just staring at us, smiling menacingly.”

“How can you know?” Snips asked. “I can’t see her face. And it’s a cloak, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I don’t know. I’m just–” Suddenly, Snails was interrupted by a sound of the window smashing. Two dark silhouettes landed on the floor and darted forward with an unnatural speed.

“What da fu–” Tootsie jumped back when Tagalong ran away and rammed into her. “Button, haven’t you see ‘em?”

“They’re too fast!” Button exclaimed, almost deafening everypony. “I don’t know who they are...”

The two ponies stopped in the middle of the restaurant, between Snips and Snails, and the group of the vigilantes. Twist noticed that they had rollerskates on their hooves. They were both having similar outfits: goggles obscuring most of their faces, helmets and something that looked like the Wonderbolts’ flying suits, painted in flames. The only difference was that one of them had blonde mane, while the other looked a bit like Tagalong.

“From the land of speed and glory...” the first one said.

“... we come, fast as lightnings...” the other added.

“... we come, servants of justice...”

“... warriors of peace, freedom, and love...”

“... to fight crime and protect ponies!”

“A Cute Trauma!”

“Pain Train!”

They turned to Snips and Snails. “Prepare for trouble!”

“I get it,” Tootsie Flute muttered, scratching her head. “Dey are just some idiots in colourful rags...”

Twist cleared her throat, giving Tootsie a nasty glare. “Can’t you see that they’re stealing our criminals?”

“Oh yeah.” Tootsie swung Father Ted around. “And dat makes me feel angry!”

“Chill out,” Twist said. “I’m pretty sure we’ll manage to find a way to solve it without resorting to violence...”

“Hey, you!” Dinky exclaimed. “We were here first!”

The ginger-maned pony turned to her. “Maybe. But we’ll get out of here faster...”

“Have you ever tried outrunning a potato?” Dinky asked.

“What?”

Dinky turned back. “Meet the Potato Mare!”

A potato flew through the HayDonald’s, smashing itself on the ginger’s helmet. She shook it off and rushed forward blindly. Tagalong grabbed a chair and threw it at her, but the blonde attacker jumped and kicked it in mid-air.

“You have trouble,” she muttered, charging at Tagalong.

“Bugger off dat kid!” Tootsie exclaimed, throwing her lead pipe under the filly’s hooves. She tripped and fell face first. Before she could recover, paint from Twist’s gun splashed on her goggles, blinding her.

“Sunny!” the other filly exclaimed, dodging Dinky’s attacks and jumping on the counter. She rode towards its other end when Tootsie blocked her path.

“Da coroner will ‘ave 3D puzzle of your skull!” she exclaimed, swinging Father Ted at her opponent, who blocked it easily with a rollerskate. Tootsie barely avoided getting hit; she started to levitate her wrench quickly, trying to land a hit on the masked filly.

“No chance!” The filly hit Tootsie in the chest, only to discover the plates underneath her suit.

Under the counter, Snips and Snails were watching the fight carefully. “Do you know what’s going on here?” Snails asked.

“It occurs to me that two groups of superheroes came here to catch us and are currently fighting over the right to do so,” Snips replied.

“Don’t you think that we should leave this place before they finish?”

“Indeed, we should.” Snips shrugged and walked out of the restaurant with his friend, carefully avoiding the fighting fillies.

The duel between Tootsie and the ginger-maned filly had come to a stalemate. They were blocking each other’s blows, but couldn’t do anything else. Twist and Dinky were trying to shoot the masked pony off the counter, but she was dodging them effortlessly.

“Tagalong, help her,” Twist muttered. Tagalong nodded and climbed on the counter, sneaking behind the rollerskating filly. She jumped on her back, trying to wrap her hooves around her neck.

“Betrayal!” the filly exclaimed, falling from the counter. She landed on all four and shook Tagalong off her back. Tagalong flew in the air for a few feet and hit the ice cream machine. Tootsie and her opponent watched in stunned silence as the machine slowly collapsed, smashing Tagalong.

The filly’s jaw dropped. “I... I killed her...” she muttered, tears flowing down her face. Tootsie approached her and wrapped her hoof around her.

“Don’t worry...” Tootsie said, closing her eyes. She heard a loud “fwoosh!” and knew that her opponent was now blinded by a bright flash of Tagalong’s resurrection. She lifted her and threw her on the floor, pinning her to it.

“Okay.” Tootsie opened her eyes and saw that her opponent lost her helmet. “Ya were tryin’ to steal our criminals... Dat made me angry... Ya killed my friend... Dat’s okay, she got better... But I absolutely hate such annoying cu–” Suddenly something heavy tackled her. She turned her head to see the blonde filly. Her goggles were still covered in paint.

“How can ya see me?” Tootsie asked, vaguely remembering that her new opponent’s name was Sunny.

“I don’t have to. Peachy sees you...” Sunny replied.

“Exactly,” Peachy said. “Together, we’re–” She collapsed when a potato hit the back of her head. Groaning, she tried to get up, only to see Twist and Dinky standing above her.

“I wanted to dump you in front of the police station,” Twist said. “But I think I’ll bring you to my sister...”

Tagalong walked to Twist and whispered something into her ear. Twist nodded quickly.

“I changed my mind,” Twist said. “Do you want to join us? We have medical help and our own base. And if there’s eight of us, we can get a group ticket to the bowling alley.”

Peachy’s reply made Tagalong blush. Twist narrowed her eyes and looked at Tootsie, who was cornering Sunny next to the fries machine.

“You’d be a really good addition to the team,” Twist said. “You’re good at fighting and–”

The siren wailed in the distance. “I was just trying to tell you about that, but you were too busy fighting,” Twist heard Button’s voice in her headphones.

“Run!” Twist exclaimed. Dinky rushed outside, conjuring a vine, and climbing on the nearest building. Tootsie and Tagalong galloped towards the park, while Twist ran in the opposite direction. Soon she saw Sunny and Peachy overtaking her and disappearing in the nooks. The sound of sirens was getting closer. Twist hid between the houses and started to wonder whether to take off her costume or not. Suddenly, she heard a drone above her.

“This way is clear,” Button said. “My house is only two blocks from here.”

“How about the rest?” Twist asked.

“Tagalong and Tootsie are hiding in the cemetery,” Button replied. “And Dinky is already home.”

“Try to catch the girls and show them the way...” Twist muttered, walking slowly towards Button’s house. “We need to think what to do about stuff such as a big puddle of Tag’s blood in the middle of the floor...”

“If they have nothing to compare it to, she’s safe,” Nursery Rhyme said. “And I guess they’ll give it to me...”

“I hope so...” Twist sighed.

High above the town, a large, flying spoon was parked between the clouds. A small, grey filly was sitting in the bowl, watching the HayDonald’s from the distance. She shook her head, trying to fit in her vehicle more comfortably.

“Amateurs,” she muttered to herself.

Author's Note

Don't worry guys, the Silver Spooner watches you...
Trivia 1: The characters are anywhere between 9 and 11, so by anime standards they're about to save the world. Well, Dinky is actually a year younger than Button, Twist, Nursery, and Tootsie. Tag is even younger, 6-7 at best.
Trivia 2: Tag's psychologist gave up and ran away to Caymane Isles.

Issue 6: The Mansion of Wonders!

Tootsie Flute swallowed the first spoon of her cereal, watching the grumpier of her mothers unsurely. Bon Bon was furrowing her eyebrows while reading a newspaper, which was never a good sign. One could expect the storm to start at any moment.

Tootsie gulped. From her seat, she could easily read the title on the first page. Masked Hooligans Destroy Restaurant.

“Typical,” Bon Bon muttered quietly, as if she was talking to themselves. “Kids these days. You let them eat too much fast food and they run around in tight pants, destroying restaurants.”

Tootsie nodded, saying nothing and focusing on her Mesquite Wood Chips.

“Back in my days, ponies were more strict for their foals. If I destroyed a restaurant–”

“Yeah, Lyra told me,” Tootsie muttered. “She also told me about dat time when ya broke into a zoo and–”

Bon Bon blushed. “I didn’t wrestle a gorilla, if that’s what she told you. And I only did that because I wanted to save Lyra.”

“Is dis why auntie Vinyl is banned from zoo?” Tootsie asked innocently.

“No.” Bon Bon blushed even more. “Vinyl is banned from zoo for... other reasons.”

They heard a sound of a door opening and Lyra walked into the kitchen, levitating a bag with groceries. “Hello, girls,” she said, putting the bag on the table. “Tootsie, we need to talk.”

Tootsie gulped. If any of her mothers ever wanted to talk, it was usually Bon Bon. If Lyra learned about the HayDonald’s...

“I’ve met Cheerilee in the market,” Lyra said. “She told me about your marks...”

“Oh bugger...” Tootsie muttered.

“What did I tell you about using such words at home?” Bon Bon approached Tootsie. “And what did you fail this time?”

“Spelling,” Tootsie whispered, lowering her head. “So, I’m grounded, right?”

“Yes,” Bon Bon replied.

“No,” Lyra said simultaneously. “I’ll revise spelling with you.”

“Yes, but we will ground you too.” Bon Bon glared at Lyra. “Lyra will revise stuff with you later. You’re barely at home during the weekends.”

“Okay.” Tootsie sighed and walked upstairs. She closed the door to her room behind her and lay down on her bed, muttering various curses under her breath.

Suddenly, she heard loud humming from under her bed. She looked there and saw that the noise was coming from the box where she’d stuffed her costume. Looking at the door and listening for her parents’ hoofsteps, she pulled the box out and opened it.

The sound was coming from a small communicator Button had given to every member of their group. Tootsie shook her head and pushed the switch.

“Is that thing on? Tootsie?” Button’s voice could be heard from a small speaker.

“Yes?” Tootsie spoke to the microphone.

“You need to come to us,” Button said. “We just got a message that someone’s gonna steal some expensive necklace during a party in Silver Spoon’s mansion...”

Tootsie heard Twist in the background, yelling, “It’s the Silver Heart of the Duchess of Maretonia, you idiot!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Button muttered. “Anyway, somepony threw a spoon at our window, with a message attached to it. We need to do something.”

“Well, ya’ll need to do sumfin’...” Tootsie replied. “I’m grounded.”

“Why?” Button asked. “Did Lyra and Bon Bon know about the HayDonald’s?”

“Not really,” Tootsie said, rolling her eyes. “Da spelling test is a different pair of bollocks though.”

Button sighed. “What are we gonna do now? Tag has some meeting to attend...”

“Ya’re gonna go to Silver yerself,” Tootsie muttered, turning the communicator off and throwing it on her bed. She then lay down, staring at the ceiling and sighed, thinking about bashing other ponies’ heads.

“Okay,” Button said, looking around their base. “We’ll have to do that alone. How are we gonna get to that party?”

“Don’t look at me,” Twist replied. “I still wonder why she didn’t invite me. I guess it’s because of those comics I borrowed from her.”

“What comics?” Button asked, his ears perking up.

“Those with tentacles. My mom confiscated them and I can’t give them back,” Twist replied, her face having the same colour as her mane.

Button nodded. “Wait! Tentacles!” he exclaimed. “Dinky can climb into the ventilation duct and hang from the ceiling over the necklace... If somepony tries to steal it, she can grab it with the vines, shoot a potato to the head...”

“Two potatoes,” Dinky said. “Just to be sure.”

“Okay, two.” Button scratched his mane. “But she’ll also need some support... An undercover agent who’d watch the guests...”

“A waiter,” Nursery Rhyme muttered. “Have you ever remembered how the waiter looks like? Also, if we can pass as teenagers...”

“I can’t go there,” Twist said. “My mane is kinda distinctive.”

“Same with me.” Nursery Rhyme looked at Button. “Seems that you’ll have to go there.”

Button sighed. “But you need to get me a waiter’s outfit. Dinky, can you sneak there and steal one for me?”

“Sure,” Dinky replied. “Do I have to put on my costume?”

“Better not,” Twist said when Dinky walked away. “We’re kinda wanted after last night. By the way, we have to do something about that.”

“Repaint our armoured carriage and go to the hairstylist. We pay fifty bits to grow beards and we’re free.” Button shrugged. “It’s easy.”

Nursery Rhyme shook her head. “It’s true what they say about light and sound...” She sighed. “Some ponies seem bright until they speak.”

“Like the guards,” Button muttered. “Have you heard something about the investigation, Nursery?”

“They keep wondering how someone got smashed by an ice cream machine and walked away on their own,” Nursery Rhyme replied. “And the lab analyses rubber from wheels of those two skaters.” She smirked. “I got a vial of Tag’s blood to play with...”

“Speaking of Tag...” Twist muttered. “What kind of meeting is she attending?”

The headquarters of Ponyville Filly Scouts was a large house built of wooden logs, located a few steps from the Everfree Forest. It was usually quite busy and that Saturday was no different – the meeting was about to start.

“Okay, girls,” Cranberry Crisp, the scoutmaster, said. She sat in the middle of a large hall and looked at the fillies sitting around her. “Let’s start with the roll call. Do-Si-Do?”

“Present,” a peanut butter-coloured filly said.

“Rah Rah Raisin?”

“Pre– present,” a little unicorn replied.

“Caramel deLite?”

“Oui.” A white unicorn nodded gently.

“Ginger Snap?”

“Present,” Tagalong said, straightening in her seat.

“You missed our last meeting,” Cranberry Crisp muttered, looking into Tagalong’s eyes.

“I was sick,” Tagalong said quickly, blushing a bit.

“You, sick?” Cranberry Crisp shrugged. “Anyway, we have a bigger problem. Recently, I have noticed that the local pack of timberwolves had been attacked. At least three timberwolves were killed and a few more were wounded. Those who did that used some kind of a vehicle... It seems that they also used powerful magic.”

Tagalong gulped, trying to hide behind Rah Rah Raisin.

“Anyway, we need to protect the environment,” Cranberry Crisp said, fire burning in her eyes. “I think none of you has Environment Protector Badge yet... Not to mention the Sharpshooter Badge or the Peacemaker Badge...” She paused, watching the faces of her little friends. “We try to be friendly... But ponies who try to destroy the planet we live on are not our friends! Do you know what that means?”

“Le massacre!” Caramel deLite exclaimed. “La guerre sainte!”

“Exactly!” Cranberry Crisp smirked. “We shall fight in the Everfree! We shall fight in Prance, we shall fight in the seas and oceans...” She walked to the chest of drawers and opened one of them. Then she grabbed an anti-materiel rifle and a box of .50 bullets. “Choose your weapons, girls. We’ll go and convince some ponies that they should change their behaviour...”

Button looked at Nursery Rhyme and sighed. “Outside the box, huh? Inside, outside, on the walls, under the box and above the box, right?”

“Well, this was more like ‘under the box’,” Nursery muttered, staring at the outfit Dinky brought to them. “What’s that?”

“Waiter’s outfit!” Dinky exclaimed, standing in attention. “I stole it while everypony were busy preparing the party!”

“It’s a waitress’ outfit.” Button rested his head on his hooves, trying not to look at the white shirt, black skirt, and a matching tie. “Do you think I’m gonna put this on?”

“Well...” Nursery Rhyme smirked. “It seems to be the right size...”

Twist chuckled. “Come on, Button... Nopony will know that it’s you... Also, Nursery probably thinks you’ll look sexy in it.”

Button stood up. “I’m not gonna put this thing on!”

Button grabbed a tray and walked to the table with it. The outfit was more comfortable than he had initially thought, but still he was looking at the guests in fear, hoping that nopony would recognise him. Twist and Nursery had made him a make up and gave him an earpiece and glasses with a camera in them. When he looked into the mirror, he thought that he looked like a Neighponese schoolfilly.

“Stop looking at yourself in the mirror!” Twist exclaimed. “We’re not interested in your face. Or at least I’m not.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Button whispered. “Dinky has it easier – she just sits in the ventilation system.”

“Watch the guests. Who looks shady to you?”

Button looked at the ponies gathered in the garden of Silver Spoon’s mansion. He recognised Silver’s parents, as well as Silverspeed – Silver’s poor cousin who was practically living with her richer family. There were also some ponies he couldn’t recognise.

“See this grey guy with sunglasses?” Nursery asked. “His name is Hoity Toity. He’s a fashion designer.”

“Yeah,” Button muttered. “Do you think he may be a burglar?”

“Everypony can be a burglar,” Nursery replied. “Look at other waiters too. Nopony pays attention to them.”

“Okay,” Button whispered.

“Hey! You!”

Button raised his head and looked around.

“Yes, you!” Silverspeed walked to Button. “I don’t think I recognise you... What’s your name, filly?”

“Umm...” Button frowned. “Eliza Doolittle?”

Silverspeed sighed. “Okay, so now Eliza should do something more than ‘little’.” She poked Button. “Bring me a whiskey, kid. Quick.”

Button nodded and ran to the kitchen.

“Button? Button, where are you?” Twist facehoofed. “Tell me that this idiot didn’t go to serve the guests instead of taking care of the necklace.”

“I’m afraid he did,” Nursery muttered, staring at the console. “How’s Dinky? Haven’t heard anything from her for a while.”

“Let’s see...” Twist pushed the button. “Dinky? Where are you?”

When they finally heard Dinky, her voice was muffled and barely distinguishable from heavy static. “I’m in the ventilation duct above the toilet. I’m hanging from the pipe and watching ponies go potty...”

“What?” Twist rested her head on her hooves and looked down on the control panel. “Why don’t you go to the room with the necklace?”

“The ducts are too narrow there,” Dinky replied. “As if someone didn’t want any ponies to go there...”

“You don’t say!” Twist banged her head against the control panel. “Why are you hiding in the toilet? Can’t you hang from the ceiling above the necklace or something?”

“I’d have to get out of the ventilation and you told me to hide there.” Dinky sighed. “Also, I thought that maybe the burglar would have to go potty too...”

“Chill out, sister,” Nursery Rhyme said, seeing that the colour of Twist’s face was now matching her mane. “Dinky, you can get out of there, just make sure no one sees you!”

“With a potato?”

“No!” Nursery facehoofed. “Just hide in the shadows and–”

“Sorry, somepony’s coming,” Dinky said and her voice drowned in static.

Nursery sighed, staring at the microphone. “Sis, do you sometimes have a feeling that everyone we know is, using unprofessional terms...”

“... retarded,” Silverspeed muttered to herself. “This whole party is retarded.” She walked through the bathroom and reached to the loose tile on the wall. Behind it, there was a mirror, a razor blade, and a string bag. Silverspeed sat on the toilet, put some white crystals from the string bag on the mirror and began pulverising them with the razor blade.

Suddenly, she heard a noise. At first, she thought it was coming from the dining room, but it was nothing like the usual party sounds. Unless the guests were all tentacle monsters whose music consisted of atonal banging against sheet metal with a sledgehammer. Silverspeed looked around, but at the same time, the noise stopped. She shrugged and went back to her mirror.

It took her a while to notice that the mirror was also staring back at her. She blinked, wondering if she hadn’t accidentally inhaled some of the white powder already. But no, there was clearly a pair of yellow eyes staring at her from the mirror.

Slowly, Silverspeed looked up. To her surprise, she saw a small unicorn filly hanging from the ceiling on something that looked like thick vines protruding from her hooves.

“Hello,” the filly said, lowering herself on the vines.

Silverspeed barely stifled a scream. She heard a splash and realised that opening the toilet seat was a good idea. “Umm... hello?” she whispered, blushing.

“You haven’t seen me here,” the filly said, landing on the floor. The vines disappeared, which brought a sense of much-needed normalcy into Silverspeed’s world.

“Or what?” Silverspeed asked.

“Or I’ll shoot you with a potato,” the filly replied.

“Fair offer,” Silverspeed muttered, watching the filly leaving the toilet. She sat there for a few minutes, before throwing the white powder and the remaining crystals into the bowl and flushing them.

Twist and Nursery watched for a while as Dinky found a good place on the ceiling, right above the small pedestal with the necklace on it. Twist pushed a switch, trying to localise Button.

“Wonder where he is,” she muttered. “You don’t think they locked him in the basement?”

“I hope he didn’t go to pick Silver Spoon up,” Nursery said. “Or else, I’ll have to lock them both in my basement...”

“Hey, I’m using it!” Twist exclaimed. “It’d be awkward if I had to–”

Somepony knocked on the door. Nursery automatically reached to the button activating the flamethrower, but Twist stopped her, pointing at one of the screens.

“Tootsie?” Nursery asked, rushing to the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I spent half of da day wiff Lyra, learnin’ spellin’,” Tootsie replied, walking inside. “I made a rope outta my sheets and ran away when she was done. What are ya doin’?”

“Dinky is watching the necklace, while Button disappeared to have coitus with Silver Spoon,” Nursery replied. “May I borrow your wrench?”

“To ‘ave what?” Tootsie raised her eyebrows. “From da context, I guess dey’re fu–”

“No, it’s just Nursery being jealous,” Twist said, pushing her sister away. “The thing is, we don’t know what’s going on with him.”

“I can check dat,” Tootsie said. “Gonna go dere and find ‘im.”

Twist shrugged. “We have glasses with a camera for you, but we have no disguise...”

“Don’t worry about dat...” Tootsie smirked.

Silver Tray was Silver Spoon’s distant cousin. That, however, didn’t mean much. Just like Silverspeed, he’d come to his rich family only to find out that they didn’t need yet another family member trying to put his hooves on their money.

They, however, needed a waiter. Silver Tray spent most of the day helping with the party and was now looking for a secluded place to hide and take a rest. He was just heading to a group of bushes, when he heard a filly’s voice.

“Excuse me! Can ya help me?”

“Who are you?” Silver Tray asked.

“I’m just a small filly who got lost and tangled in the bushes. I need an adult...”

Silver Tray smirked. “I am an adult...”

He walked into the bushes, loosening his tie. Suddenly, a loud “pwang!” could be heard from there, followed by a sound of a body hitting the ground. Few minutes later, Tootsie emerged from the bushes, dressed as a waiter.

“I was never on yer side, wanker,” Tootsie muttered, throwing a slightly bent frying pan away. She heard static in her ear and smacked it to fix the earpiece hidden inside.

“There’s a problem, Tootsie,” she heard Twist’s voice. “Your accent...”

“Oh, don’t vorry about zat,” Tootsie replied. “I am ze master of disguise.”

“Well, I don’t think the Silvers would hire a granddaughter of some officer from Pferdreich as a waitress,” Twist muttered.

Tootsie thought for a moment before clearing her throat. “Well, I’m going to speak proper then. Steady, old chap. I am heading to the kitchen, since I am a tiny bit peckish. Hereinafter, I could use a spot of tea.”

“Hereinafter?” Twist asked.

“Shh,” Tootsie whispered, trotting to the kitchen door. She could hear the cello sounds coming from the ballroom – most of the guests were there, allowing her to go unnoticed. “Chocks away.”

“What can you see there?” Twist’s voice was piercing Tootsie’s ear, especially since the speaker was a little damaged, causing loud feedback to almost deafen her.

“The usual, luv,” Tootsie replied. “Condom Bleu, deep-fried horseapples, snails with stuff... Wait.” Tootsie levitated a snail and swallowed it. “Not bad. Could use some horseradish, though, old chap.”

“She’s disgusting,” Nursery Rhyme muttered.

“You do realise that I am still perfectly capable of hearing you?” Tootsie asked, walking along the table with food and snatching snacks from it. “Hey, look, brussel sprouts with caviare and thistle!”

“I’m gonna puke,” Twist said.

“I can’t. I’m a nurse,” Nursery added. “I have to be tough.”

“Oh, come on.” Tootsie rolled her eyes. “It’s not that bad. It tastes like chicken.”

“How do you know how chicken tastes like?” Nursery asked, her voice sounding so weak that it was barely recognisable in the earpiece.

Before Tootsie could reply, a cook trotted to her. “Hey, you! Yes, you who are talking to yourself!”

“I wasn’t eating anything from the table, old chap,” Tootsie said, standing in attention.

“What’s your name, kid?” the cook asked, staring at Tootsie and squinting.

“Umm... Artful Dodger,” Tootsie replied quickly. “I gracefully dodge the guests while walking with a tray...”

The cook looked at her closer. “A snub-nosed, flat-browed, common-faced colt, huh?” He smirked. “And as dirty a juvenile as one would wish to see... But with all the airs and manners of a stallion.” The cook nodded. “Ms. Octavia will soon finish her recital. Once she goes to her boudoir, you’ll go there and bring her a drink.”

“Aye, sir,” Tootsie said. “Go there, give her a drink, and Bob’s your uncle.”

“Exactly,” the cook replied and went to pour a glass of wine for Octavia. Tootsie levitated it and went out of the kitchen.

“Nice stuff,” she muttered to herself, staring at the swords hanging on the walls. “Wonder if it’s real silver on da handle... And how much fluffy bunny I can get for dat...”

“Your accent is slipping,” Twist muttered. “And remember that you’re not here to steal stuff.”

“Bugger off,” Tootsie said, walking to the door at the end of the corridor. She lifted her hoof and hesitated. “Come one, not gonna lose da bottle now, innit?” she muttered to herself and knocked.

“Come in!” a soft voice called. Tootsie opened the door and walked inside.

Octavia was sitting in front of a large mirror. Tootsie caught a glimpse of herself in it – she thought that with thick-framed glasses covering her eyelashes, and a tuxedo she looked like some boffin.

“Hello,” Tootsie said. “I brought a drink for you, ma’am.”

“Oi, thank you, dear,” Octavia replied, taking a glass of wine. “You are from Great Bridletain too, right?”

“Yeah, from Foaldon,” Tootsie replied. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’m from Foaldon too,” Octavia said, taking a sip of her wine. “Ya may not believe, but I’m from East End.”

“Bloody hell,” Tootsie muttered. “I’m a Cockneigh too. Chitty chitty bang bang and so on. Damn, da world is a small place...”

“Yeah,” Octavia said. “Funny how that happens... What’s your name, mate?”

“Artful Dodger,” Tootsie replied. “I can speak like dat, innit? Tired of dat posh Tom tit...”

“Of course, luv.” Octavia looked at Tootsie more carefully. “You know, Art, I knew a dustbin lid that looked like you once. But she was a filly.”

Tootsie gulped. “And what happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” Octavia replied. “I moved to Equestria to learn in Canterlot Musical Academy. But I’ve heard that her parents were killed in a battle with Manewall HC fans...”

“It was Manechester United,” Tootsie said, sighing. “But yeah, daddy ‘ad beaten up a few colts from Manewall too...”

“How do you know?” Octavia asked.

“Busted,” Twist whispered in Tootsie’s ear.

“Quick, tell her that you’re transsexual!” Nursery exclaimed, almost deafening Tootsie again.

“I’m... trainsexual,” Tootsie muttered. “Wait, what?”

“Exactly, what?” Octavia raised her eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t judge, but that’s strange, at your age...”

“You’ve always wanted to be a colt, dummkopf!” Nursery shouted. Tootsie winced – even through a layer of distorted voice she could hear the sound of a hoof contacting a forehead.

“I always wanted to be a colt,” Tootsie said, barely stifling a groan.

“Oh...” Octavia blinked. Suddenly, Tootsie felt that she was hugged by the cellist. “I guess it must be very tough for you...”

“Not really,” Tootsie muttered, trying to free herself from Octavia’s grasp. She thought of a leaflet she’d read once at school and decided to go with it. “My mums are very supportive towards me...” Suddenly she found herself wondering about the spelling of the word “towards”.

“That’s nice,” Octavia said. “How are you doing?”

“Dey’re dykes, so we’re kinda one, big, queer family,” Tootsie muttered, ignoring Nursery’s stifled laughter. “We kinda ‘ave some argy-bargy wiff bees and honey. For da operation.”

Octavia nodded and opened her cello case. “You know, I got paid for that recital, but I have enough money for myself. Here, take that bag of sand...”

“Thanks!” Tootsie exclaimed. “I have to go back to work, I think.”

“Of course, luv,” Octavia said, watching Tootsie prancing to the door. “Cheerio.”

“Bag of sand? What the hell is that?” Nursery Rhyme whispered. Tootsie heard a noise as if somepony slammed a microphone. “Is that thing even on?”

“It’s a thousand bits,” Twist said. “I think we can safely admit that our niece is a gypsy.”

“You tell me,” Nursery muttered. “When we played poker, she looked into her cards once and knew not only what cards I had, but also what’d happen to me in the next week or so. Can she even hear us?”

Tootsie walked down the corridor, still thinking about her encounter with Octavia. She was barely paying attention to her surroundings, clutching the bits under her tuxedo. After a minute or so, the noises coming from the communicator finally attracted her attention.

“What’s up?” Tootsie asked.

“You okay there, Tootsie?” Nursery Rhyme asked.

Tootsie sighed. “If any of me mothers hears dat I’m trainsexual...”

“Transsexual,” Nursery muttered with a sigh.

“What I said.” Tootsie groaned. “Anyway, if dey hear ‘bout it–”

“Hey, it won’t be that bad,” Twist said. “You said that yourself. They’ll understand that since they’re both–”

Tootsie shook her head. “I bloody know dat! But try ta ‘xplain Lyra dat I ain’t wanna ‘ave no wankie! Anyway, Nursery, if dey ‘ear dat, I’m gonna stomp on yer ‘ead till yer brain flows outta yer pies and britneys, scrap it off da floor, fry it wiff onion, eat it, and use yer skull as a chamber pot. Got it?”

Tootsie waited for a few minutes, but there was no single sound coming from the earpiece. She shrugged. “Dat reminds me,” she said. “Turn dat bloody camera off, I’m gonna take a piss.”

There was no answer. Tootsie walked to the door with a picture of a mare on it and pushed it open.

“Excuse me,” a brown earth waitress who was just washing her hooves said. “It’s a little filly’s room. Colts have–”

“Button, ya bloody imbecile, it’s me!” Tootsie chuckled, staring at the dress Button was wearing. “Are ya trainsexual?”

“No, I totally never did anything to my train,” Button replied quickly. “Tootsie? Weren’t you grounded?”

“Only gods can judge me,” Tootsie said. “I ‘eard ya need help.”

Button nodded. “Well, since you’re here... Can we switch clothes? This thing is rather uncomfortable...”

Tootsie’s reply made Button blush. “I’ve never thought about my mother that way...”

“Ya’re da only one,” Tootsie said. “Anyway, turn on yer ear-thingamajig. My aunts can’t find ya.”

“Something strange happened to me,” Button muttered. “But I think I know who is the thief.”

“How?”

“It’s a long story.”

Tootsie shrugged. “We ‘ave some time, I guess.”

Button cleared his throat. “Well, it all starts in Silver Spoon’s basement...”

Tootsie put a hoof on Button’s mouth and looked around. “Don’t say dat aloud, mate, or Nursery’ll strap ya to da table and rip ya a new ‘ole in da arse.”

“You do realise that you’re both wearing glasses with cameras in them and I can hear your every word?” Nursery Rhyme asked.

Button blushed, but after a second went pale, his eyes shrinking to pinpricks. “I’ve just used the toilet...”

“I know...” Nursery replied, purring at the end of sentence.

“How d’ya fancy watchin’ me deliver a pavement pizza?” Tootsie asked, making a gagging sound.

“Considering what you’ve eaten, that’d be an interesting experience,” Nursery said.

Tootsie rolled her eyes in a manner that would make Bon Bon proud. “Oh, go fu–”

Button cleared his throat.

Tootsie sighed. “Why is da whole universe interruptin’ me when I’m tryin’ to say–”

“I wanted to tell you who’s the burglar,” Button replied.

Tootsie walked to the door and locked it. “C’mon, mate.”

Button cursed under his breath, trying to balance a heavy tray on his head. He trotted out of the kitchen and walked to the ballroom. He stood by a group of teenage mares and smiled, showing his teeth. “Would you fancy a drink?” he asked.

The closest of the teenagers, a blue earth mare with a large pink bow in her blonde mane gave him a look usually reserved for something important yet not pleasing to the eye, like a piece of manure on the pavement. “That’s, like, very nice of you,” she said, grabbing a drink and turning back to her friends. “And then I, like, told him that...”

Button wanted to go somewhere else, but his gaze went into close contact with the mare’s curvy behind. It wouldn’t take him more than a few seconds to remember that he had a mission and go away. However, he also heard what they were talking about.

“He said that, like, he totally has no money!” The blue mare rolled her eyes. “Imagine that? Like, do I have to buy jewellery myself? Scandalous!”

“Oh my gosh! That’s, like, inexcusable,” the other mare, pink with a blue mane, said. “Like, we need to take care of that.”

“As if. Like, we need to, like, get there.” The mare turned to Button. “Why are you, like, still standing here? Like, you don’t have anything else to do?”

“I think I have,” Button replied and ran away from the ballroom. He lost his tray in the corridor, but it didn’t stop him. In fact, he was stopped in the kitchen when a butler kicked him.

It was a precise kick, practised by the butler for years. Its force changed Button’s trajectory two inches to the right, which was enough for him to bounce off the fat cook’s behind and fall into a laundry chute. The butler smirked. Everything was going according to the plan.

Button screamed, falling down the chute. He had a brief thought that his skirt should slow down the fall, but at the same moment he saw a quickly approaching laundry basket. Before he had time to think about unusuality of such a phenomenon, he hit the basket tail-first.

“You are here, at last,” a voice said from the dark corner of the basement. Button stood up, shaking some lacy lingerie off his back.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Don’t worry,” the voice said. “We’re both playing for the same team...”

Button shrugged. “I’m not so sure...” He was sure, however, that his mother warned him about strange voices talking to him in the basement.

“Oh, come on...” Button heard trotting and strange ringing. After a moment, the filly stepped into a circle of light.

She had grey coat and violet eyes. Her mane was in two shades of grey, both lighter than her coat. It was flowing freely, partially covering her outfit – tight, white and purple spandex, the very sight of which made Button realise that his skirt was a bit too tight for his liking. The weirdest part were, however, spoons sewn to her uniform, forming a silver armour.

Button was sure that he’d never seen her before.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the Silver Spooner, Hero of Ponyville.” The Silver Spooner pointed her hoof at Button. “And you’re a colt, little filly!”

“Not my fault,” Button muttered, straightening his clothes. “The friend who got me this costume can only count to potato. Literally.”

“Well,” the Silver Spooner said. “I have noticed your recent activities at the HayDonald’s... And it was me who brought you here...”

“The message.” Button nodded. “It was on a spoon.”

The Silver Spooner nodded. “Exactly. I would send a message to those two rollerskating rascals, but you were at least avoiding breaking the windows. I don’t want my house to be destroyed.”

“So, you live in Silver Spoon’s house?” Button asked. “I’ve never noticed you.”

“Yes, you can say that I live in her house,” the Silver Spooner replied with a barely noticeable sigh. “Anyway, crime in Ponyville isn’t something we can fight alone. You’re not alone here, I suppose?”

“No. Di– I mean, the Potato Mare is here too.”

“The Potato Mare?”

“She sat on a mutated potato and now has a second, plant-based brain in her ass,” Button replied. “At least that’s what Nursery says and I believe her in that matter.”

“Interesting.” the Silver Spooner leaned closer to Button. “Are there more of you? I think it would be better if all the superheroes of Ponyville formed a team.” Fire burned in her eyes. “Together, we’ll be able to eradicate evil once and for all!”

“Well, there’s The T, but she doesn’t have any superpowers, just gadgets and fancy armour.” Button sat on the edge of the basket. “And there’s Captain Cockneigh.”

“I think I saw her,” the Silver Spooner said. “Is it that brute wearing a flag, speaking gibberish, and hitting ponies with a large tool?”

“Yup, it’s her. Too bad she’s grounded.” Button sighed. “We could use someone to whack those burglars with something heavy.”

“We need to be quiet,” the Silver Spooner replied, squinting. “We don’t want another HayDonald’s... Especially in my house.”

“There’s already Dinky in there,” Button said. “Some windows may end up smashed. I don’t know if I told you, but she can shoot potatoes from her–”

“Seriously? Fascinating.” The Silver Spooner nodded. “I mean, a bit gross, but fascinating nonetheless. Is there somepony else in your group?”

Button nodded. “Tagalong. She’s kinda freaky.”

The Silver Spooner rolled her eyes. “Button, you just told me that one of your teammates shoots tubers from her rectum. What can be more freaky than that?”

“The first time I met her, she shot herself with a shotgun. She then commented on the size of blood splatter.” Button shuddered. “She’s, like, an immortal filly scout. Think about it.”

The Silver Spooner nodded slowly, her eyes widening. “Bloody hell...” she whispered.

“Exactly. Anyway, I know who’s going to steal the necklace,” Button said. “Two teens in tacky clothes.”

The Silver Spooner looked at the small screen in front of her. It wasn’t as impressive as the one Button was using in the tower, but it still had connection to cameras in the whole house. “I can see them. From what I know, they’re named Surf and Turf. They’re going there...”

“Damn,” Button muttered. “The Potato Mare is there! Either she’s going to hurt them or they’re going to hurt her!”

“I can’t give myself away,” the Silver Spooner said. “You need to go and help her.” She looked at the screen again. “Hmm, that waiter looks familiar...” She turned back to Button only to find out that he was running out of the basement.

She shrugged. “Hope he notices the slippery step...”

“So, ya told me da whole story to tell me dat we need to ‘urry?” Tootsie asked, rolling her eyes. “Couldn’t ya tell me dat on da way?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen them,” Button replied. “They’re in the corridor, waiting for everypony to go somewhere else.” He winced. “My head hurts. I fell down the stairs on my way here.”

“I ain’t give a fiddler’s fart about yer ‘ead!” Tootsie exclaimed, running out of the toilet. They trotted through the corridors, accidentally bumping into Silver Spoon and knocking her down.

“Sorry!” Button exclaimed, helping Silver up. He noticed that she was wearing a really nice, blue dress.

“I saw you looking at her!” Nursery Rhyme hissed into the microphone.

Button sighed and quickened up his pace. It was hard to keep up with Tootsie, who tore through the crowd like a small, dragonfire-powered icebreaker. That is, if icebreakers were able to mutter curses under their breaths.

Suddenly, she turned to Button. “So, ya’re tellin’ dat some gal callin’ ‘erself ‘Da Silver Spooner’–”

“Not ‘Da Silva’,” Button replied. “She didn’t look like she was from Mexicolt...”

Tootsie told him to go do things adolescent colts do when they think nopony sees them. Not looking at Button anymore, she trotted to the room where the necklace was kept and kicked the door open.

“Well, well, well,” she muttered, seeing two ponies standing in front of the necklace. “What are we doin’ ‘ere?”

“That, like, not your business,” the blonde mare, Turf, replied. “Like, get out of here, little waiter before we get, like, angry.”

“Totally,” Surf added.

“Okay,” Tootsie lit her horn. “Like, I’m now gonna kick yer arses till dey, like, totally turn red like buses in Foaldon...”

Button did the only sensible thing – he hid behind Tootsie, hoping that he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire.

“You know, there’s, like, two of us,” Surf said. “And we’re, like, twice as big as you are, runt...”

“Oh, really?” Tootsie chuckled. “Look up.”

Surf and Turf looked up, at the grating of air conditioning system. Or rather, a mass of vines and tubers that was in that place. They screamed, their eyes widening, at least until potatoes fell on their heads, rendering them unconscious.

“Well, dat was anticlimactic,” Tootsie muttered. “Ya can stop hidin’ behind me, berk,” she said, staring at Button and sighing.

The door bursted open. Several suit-wearing ponies stood in them, watching the scene with wide eyes. “Hey, look!” one of them shouted. “Those two were trying to steal the necklace!”

“Ya figured dat out all by yerself?” Tootsie Flute whispered.

“Those waiters stopped them!” Another pony pointed at Tootsie and Button. “They’re called Artful Dodger and Elisa Doolitle!”

“Bugger me,” Tootsie muttered. “It’s like the very first issue of Power Ponies all over again...”

Button sighed. “Yeah, they changed a bit over years... But I liked that issue.” He smirked. “Also, enjoy the moment. We saved the day.”

“Should I bugger you right here?” Dinky lowered herself on the floor and patted Tootsie’s back with a vine. The sight caused one of the ponies to faint.

“Stick it where da sun ain’t shine,” Tootsie muttered. “Also, Button, we? Aargh! Dinky, ya bloody moron! I ain’t mean it literally!”

“I found who they were,” Button said.

“Have you heard that?” one of the guests asked the others. “This filly found who they were!”

Tootsie groaned and facehoofed.

Author's Note

Trivia 1: Wood Chips Cereal first appeared in Vinyl and Octavia Eat Cereal and Nothing Happens. According to Bootsy, Mesquite ones are the least popular flavour. Not that Tootsie minds.
Trivia 2: The angrier Tootsie is, the thicker her accent gets. If you get nothing but apostrophes, check your pulse because there's a large chance that you're already dead.
Trivia 3: Cranberry Crisp's favourite method of protecting the environment is shooting everything that may be a threat to it. She's also a direct descendant of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Don't ask how it works.

Issue 7: Slow Day!

“Hello, my name is Nursery Rhyme and I’m an official nurse of the group of superheroes known as... Hey, how exactly are we called?”

“Nursery! Stop playin’ wiff dat camera, or I’m gonna stick it in yer–”

Nursery turned to Button before Tootsie could finish. She walked to him, watching the machine he was building. “What are you doing?”

“A glider,” Button replied, too focused on his work to look at Nursery. “None of us is a pegasus and we need some aerial support.”

Twist walked out of the tower and trotted to them through the meadow. When she saw the camera in her sister’s hoof, she groaned. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Nopony’s gonna watch it anyway.”

“Who knows?” Nursery asked. “We’re kinda famous after that necklace incident. After all, we saved the day...”

“Horseapples,” Tootsie Flute muttered. “Not to mention dat I got grounded for two weeks. At least I got C on my spellin’ test.”

“Oh, come on!” Nursery exclaimed. “Soon we may become popular in the whole of Equestria! Say something superhero-ish! Or at least something about yourself.”

“Okay,” Tootsie said, getting up from the grass and putting on her domino mask. “My name is Captain Cockneigh. I like hoofball, tending to flowers, and hurting ponies.”

“You mean soccer, right?” Button asked, putting the hammer down and staring at the glider. “Because I usually see you playing– Aargh!”

“It’s hoofball,” Tootsie muttered, watching Button roll on the grass. “Don’t forget ‘bout it, or I’ll kick ya where it hurts more...” She turned to the camera. “I hate spellin’, idiots, and da buggers who killed my parents.”

“Will you tell us something more about yourself?” Nursery asked.

“My favourite movie is Cockneighs vs. Zombies,” Tootsie replied. “And I’m gonna shove dat camera up somepony’s arse soon...”

“Okay,” Nursery muttered and pointed the camera upwards. “And here we have another member of our team. Hello, Potato Mare! What are you doing?”

“Just hanging around,” Dinky replied, lowering herself on the vines. “Captain and I have recently saved the necklace of that important lady from being stolen by those two ponies wearing strange clothes. Tubby liked it very much.”

Nursery sighed. “Okay... Tubby is, from what I’ve heard, a genetically-engineered potato, right? Can we talk to him? What is he saying right now?”

Dinky stood still, her eyes locked on some point in the distance. “When a cucumber is divided, the things are getting in her way and when hippos dance, there’ll be a high chance of bottle inflammation. Ia, ia, Shub-Niggurath! For I am the beetroot that will solve all the ironing boards in the orgy of an endless suppository of half-molten braces of a light bulb.”

“I think we’ve heard enough.” The camera trembled in Nursery’s hoof.

“Sometimes, however, Tubby goes silent,” Dinky said. “And then things happen.”

Tootsie moved further away from Dinky. “I ain’t wanna be ‘ere when dey ‘appen.”

“It only happens when I’m alone in my room, though.” Dinky shrugged. “It feels funny.”

Nursery sighed. “Okay, I’m pretty sure that your inner life is very interesting, but I don’t have that much tape.” She smiled and patted Dinky’s head. “Come to my lab one day.”

“Sure,” Dinky replied, smiling back at Nursery.

“And here we have my sister, The T,” Nursery said, walking to Twist. “She’s working on her gadgets and other stuff. What is it?” She pointed at something that looked like a revolver, if revolvers were made of wires and aluminium which seemed recycled from empty beer cans.

“That’s my new launcher,” Twist replied. “Burning everypony with a death ray isn’t very practical, so I went towards something more universal.” She opened the magazine. “Inside there are six crystals with spells recorded on them. By turning it, I can change the spell it fires.”

“What spells do you have?” Nursery asked.

“Death ray, stunning spell, healing spell, levitation, radar, and a flashlight,” Twist replied. “Weaker than average unicorn’s, but I can still do this.” She switched the launcher to a levitation spell and fired it at two beakers full of some yellowish liquids. Seeing this, Tootsie backpedalled, only to find out that she’d have to bump into Dinky if she continued her escape.

“What’s dis?” Tootsie asked.

“Don’t worry, they’re safe,” Twist replied, waving the beakers around. “That is, until you mix them. Then they kinda explode. Or rather burn.”

“And why do we need ‘em?” Tootsie looked at the beakers and shuddered.

“Glad you asked,” Twist said. “Remember our armoured cart?”

“Yeah, dat.” Tootsie sighed. “It was slow like old ponies fu–”

“I built a new one. We’ll use it on our patrols,” Twist said. “No armour, pedal-powered, lots of gadgets, and an afterburner. If we get into trouble, it’ll help us run away. This is the fuel.”

“Hmm, isn’t it made of wood?” Button asked. He finished working on the glider and looked at it from the distance.

“Details,” Twist muttered.

“Put it down, please.” Button grabbed one of the beakers. “Is that stuff even legal?”

“Well, I made it of legal ingredients.” Twist smirked.

Button sighed. “Nevermind.”

“Yeah.” Tootsie shrugged and took a small box out of her pocket. “Leave those explodin’ chamber pots and ‘ave a lunch.” She opened the box. Twist looked inside and shuddered, seeing a brownish suspension full of some unrecognisable chunks that probably used to be corn, rice, beans, and chilli peppers before somepony decided to torture them by cooking slowly.

“Is that... Lyra’s chili?” Twist asked, feeling her throat drying quickly.

“Yup.” Tootsie aimed her horn at the chili and started to heat it with her magic. “It’s awesome.”

Twist decided to take a look somewhere else. Her first contact with Lyra’s chili had ended in hospitalisation. If one left a tortilla chip in it for too long, it was catching fire. It could melt spoons and burn holes in tables. Nursery Rhyme once took a sample to the lab. Apparently, after eating a big enough dose, one could only take five steps before dying. Twice.

Unfortunately for Twist, “somewhere else” meant “straight into Nursery’s camera.”

“So, will you tell me something about your armour?” Nursery asked.

“Classified, patent pending,” Twist replied quickly. “But I have a compartment for peppermint sticks.”

Meanwhile, Tootsie levitated a tortilla chip, dipped it in chili and ate it without even flinching. “Want some?” she asked Button.

“No, thanks,” Button replied, looking down the hill. “Seems that Tag is coming to us.”

Indeed, a filly joined them after a while. She dropped on the grass, panting. Her eyes were bloodshot and her fur was drenched in sweat.

“Did something happen?” Button asked. “You okay, Tag?”

“Do you have something to eat?” Tagalong asked. “My sugar level drops when I’m stressed.”

Nursery raised her eyebrow. “Can’t you just–”

“Dying from it takes a while,” Tagalong muttered. She took chili Tootsie offered her and dipped a tortilla chip in it.

“You’d better eat a peppermint stick,” Twist said. “There’s more sugar in it.”

“It’s okay, I just ate this chi–” Suddenly, Tagalong choked. Her eyes widened as she looked around helplessly, trying to catch a breath. She grabbed her throat, dropping the box with chili.

“Okay, abdominal thrust...” Nursery muttered, rushing to help. “Hold on, Tag, I’m gonna help you!”

Tagalong took five steps towards Nursery.

“Fwoosh!”

“Feeling better?” Nursery asked when the light disappeared. The only reply was another “fwoosh!” accompanied by another burst of light.

“Now that’s better,” Tagalong muttered. “My sugar level is also good now. And at least I didn’t fall.”

“Is that bad?” Dinky asked. Tootsie looked at the chili lying on the grass and groaned. Meanwhile, the grass blackened and started to smoke.

“Dying standing is a luxury I don’t experience often,” Tagalong said. “Anyway, I just remembered that I have something very, very, very, very important to–”

“Go fly a kite,” Tootsie muttered. “You spilled my lunch.”

“Do you want a baked potato?” Dinky asked.

Tootsie looked into Dinky’s eyes and said a few words about where she could stick a potato if it hadn’tbeen for the fact that it was probably coming from there. She then looked at the spilled chili, shrugged, and started to eat it with grass it had landed on.

“My niece in a nutshell,” Twist muttered. “Don’t eat it! Someone may have peed in here...”

“Itdothnttathtelikeet,” Tootsie replied, her mouth full of grass and chili.

Button turned to them. “Two chavs were fighting and fell down the cliff. Who won?”

“The society,” Nursery Rhyme replied. “A chav and a zebra are in a cart. Who pulls it?”

Tootsie swallowed her chili and gave Button a nasty glare. “I’m pretty sure yer arse’ll benefit from a little whoopin’...”

Button backpedalled, covering his most vital parts. Tootsie stretched her hooves and approached him slowly.

“Hey, who pulls that cart?” Dinky asked.

“Your mom,” Tootsie replied.

Dinky raised her eyebrows and scratched her mane. “I don’t get it,” she said. “Why’d my mom pull a cart with a chav and a zebra?”

“She insulted you,” Nursery whispered, seeing that Tootsie clearly wanted to assault those parts of Button Nursery could find the most interesting in a few years.

A potato to the back of the head diverted Tootsie’s attention from Button. She turned towards Dinky and exhaled loudly, gritting her teeth. “Ya’re dead,” she whispered. “More dead than tomatoes Lyra was tryin’ to grow...”

“It’s pronounced ‘to-may-toes’,” Nursery muttered, grabbing Tootsie’s tail with her teeth while still holding a camera. A moment later, she was lying on the ground, knowing very well which pronunciation was superior. Also, when she later retrieved the movie from her camera, she got a perfect picture of Tootsie’s hind legs in motion.

“Enough!” Twist exclaimed, using her launcher to levitate Tootsie. “We’re superheroes! We don’t fight each other!”

“Put me down!” Tootsie thrashed in mid-air. “It ain’t natural...”

“I’ll put you down when you calm down!” Twist groaned. “Can this day get any worse?”

“Hey, I’m flying!”

Tootsie fell on the ground when Twist looked into the sky to see Tagalong flying above them. Button’s glider worked surprisingly well, catching a stream of hot air and lifting Tagalong high above the ground.

“Dis ain’t gonna end well, innit?” Tootsie asked.

“Definitely,” Button muttered. “I spent days building it...”

“The perversity of the universe always tends towards a maximum,” Dinky said. “At least according to Tubby.”

“Hey! I can see my house from there!” Tagalong exclaimed, turning sharply. “Whoops...” Her eyes widened when one of the glider’s wings broke. The glider spiralled out of control, falling towards a group of trees and bushes on the river bank.

“I guess she ain’t gonna see ‘er house from dere...” Tootsie muttered when the remains of the glider disappeared behind the trees.

“Tootsie!” Twist exclaimed when something exploded brightly between the trees.

“It’s not like she’s gonna die or sumfin’...”

“My glider!” Button shouted.

“It sucked anyway,” Dinky said. “If it didn’t, it wouldn’t break.”

“It’s because you’re not supposed to turn it as if it was a battleship!” Button exclaimed. He reached behind his back, but he didn’t find any hyperspace mallets there, so he continued, “It was a delicate work of art!”

Dinky waved her hoof. A vine appeared out of nowhere and smacked Button in the face.

Button rolled his eyes. “Do you all think that hitting me brings good luck or something?”

Nursery smirked. “Not if you don’t want that...”

Button sighed. He opened his mouth to answer, but at the same moment someone kicked him in the rump.

“Your glider broke,” Tagalong said, frowning. Her costume – which was, in fact, a green filly scout raincoat – was torn in a few places. “I snapped my neck and I don’t like when it happens.”

“Why did you even touch it in the first place?” Button exclaimed, waving his hooves.

Tagalong turned to Tootsie. “She told me so.”

“What?” Tootsie lifted her wrench.

“You told me to go and fly a kite...”

“Oh, for da love of Celestia...” Tootsie rolled her eyes. “Does anypony ‘ere get ‘em metaphors?”

“No,” Nursery replied. “Though I’m learning to use them. It’s fascinating.”

“Celestia, give me patience,” Tootsie muttered under her breath. “Just don’t give me strength, or else I’m gonna tear someone’s bloody ‘ead off, impale it on a pike an’ call dat modern art. Or maybe brave ‘art.”

Twist sighed. “Okay, enough. Tag, what were you trying to tell us?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Tagalong replied. “My head hurts because of that glider. I’m gonna go home.”

“Wait!” Twist exclaimed. “You said that was important! And we were going to guard the town together tonight.”

Tagalong didn’t listen. Instead, she started to run, almost tripping over her own hooves.

“Just great.” Twist rolled her eyes. “So, anyone has anything else to say?”

“I’m not your twin sister,” Nursery replied, smirking. “I’m Bon Bon’s twin – a thirty years old midget who’s pretending to be a filly because Button is just so sexy…”

“That’s kinda creepy, but if you’re into it…” Dinky looked at Button, whose jaw nearly hit the ground. “He isn’t.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Twist asked. “It all makes sense now…”

“Practical jokes!” Nursery exclaimed, laughing. “I figured them out! Don’t worry, it wasn’t true.”

“What if it was?” Dinky shrugged. “My mom would talk about that all the time…” Her voice lowered slightly. “You’re still creepy, kid.”

“May I commit aunticide?” Tootsie asked.

“That’d technically be materteracide or amitacide,” Nursery said. “The former if you consider Bon Bon your mother and the latter if you think she’s your father.”

“Fine!” Twist exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, suggesting an imminent mental breakdown. “Tootsie, you’ll guard the town with me tonight. Nursery… Have you ever seen a chicken?”

Nursery raised her eyebrows. “Yes, why?”

“So go cluck yourself before I hurt you,” Twist muttered through gritted teeth. “And please, someone do something with Button before he starts drooling!”

“Sure thing.” Tootsie smacked Button in the back of the head. He fell face-first on the grass, but at least he regained consciousness.

“Okay.” Twist took a deep breath. “You’re dismissed. Tootsie, come with me, I need to show you something…”

Author's Note

Trivia 1: Materteracide/amitacide are perfectly cromulent words I made up myself (matertera is Latin for "maternal aunt" while amita is "maternal aunt"). Then I googled them to check if such words exist. Don't do that, most of the results lead to some adult sites. It's better not to know why.
Trivia 2: One of Twist's superpowers is completely ignoring reality whenever it gets in her way.
Trivia 3: Tootsie's current suit is called Phase 1 suit. Yes, there's also Phase 2 suit.
Pictures:
Twist (similarly to Silver, she doesn't wear glasses when disguised).
Peachy Pie
Sunny Daze
Alternate cover for Mansion of Wonders

Trivia 4: The pictures of Peachy and Sunny were drawn a while ago, while the picture of Twist was drawn yesterday. The difference in style is pretty noticeable.
Trivia 5: Lyra's chili is banned in several countries.

Issue 8: Tootsie vs. Peachy!

Tootsie sighed, staring at the dim park. “Why do I ‘ave to be ‘ere?” she asked. “Nuffin’s gonna ‘appen tonight.” She shuddered. “Damn outfit. Gonna need some socks wiff dat.”

“Evil never sleeps,” Twist replied, checking something on the screen. “Also, it was you who told Tag to go fly a kite, so it’s your fault.”

“It’s ‘er parents’ fault dat she’s an idiot,” Tootsie muttered, kicking a pebble which flew a few feet and hit the trunk of a nearby tree. “I didn’t mean dat literally.”

Twist shook her head. “Listen, I thought we discussed that before: no complicated metaphors when Tag or the Potato Mare are around. Some ponies are just not meant for them.”

“Yeah, right.” Tootsie groaned. “And I’m not meant for spellin’, but Miss Cheerilee keeps insisting–“

“Okay, I’ll keep it simple,” Twist said. “A pony can live through their life while taking metaphors literally. But not when they’re making eight errors in a word which has seven letters… and happens to be their own name.”

“Ya’re never gonna forgive me, innit?”

“No,” Twist replied, hopping into their new cart. “Also, you have an opportunity to have a ride and use this communicator.” She pointed at the watch-like device on Tootsie’s hoof. “It’s reinforced and idiot-proof, which should suit you. What can be funnier than that?”

“Dunno, sleepin’?” Tootsie shrugged, taking her seat and poking one of the levers. “What’s dat?”

“Don’t touch it!” Twist exclaimed. “It’s a catapult. If you pull it, your seat will land a hundred metres from the cart.” She started pedalling, steering the cart out of the park. “We didn’t test this feature yet.”

“Awesome.” Tootsie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Where are we going now?”

“To the centre,” Twist said. “You know, Button heard something about Snips and Snails trying to rob a shop. Also, we may find those skating two again.”

“Dat’d be cool.” Tootsie raised her head. “I hate those two little sh–“

“Enough,” Twist said. “You’re a superhero, remember? No swearing, no beating ponies who didn’t deserve it…”

“Dey did,” Tootsie muttered, clenching her hooves on the wrench.

Twist sighed. “By the way, Nursery once saw two rollerskating fillies on her way to the hospital.”

She showed Tootsie a photo on the monitor built into her armour. “Do they look similar to you?”
“Not at all,” Tootsie replied. “Like, dey ain’t ‘ave no costumes…”

Twist smacked her head against the steering wheel, almost causing them to swerve off the road. “Do you think those two look like our rollerskating friends without their costumes? I sometimes think you hang out with Dinky too much.”

“You said dat we can’t use our names,” Tootsie said. “And, don’t ya fink dat’d be too easy? If I wanted to be like dat, I’d change da colour of me coat…”

“You’re like that and yet you don’t,” Twist muttered. “All that you have is a mask and the costume. I’m still surprised that nopony figured out your identity after hearing how you speak. It’s not like many ponies here speak in rhyme slang.”

“Said da pony who only takes off ‘er glasses and wears a silly armour,” Tootsie muttered. “While still remainin’ da same, lisp and all.”

“What lisp?” Twist shrugged, turning into the main alley of Ponyville. “Speech therapy, my dear niece. It does wonders.”

“Not to everypony,” Tootsie muttered, watching the dark windows of nearby houses. “But okay, let’s say no one notices the lisp. Still, you with glasses look similar to you without them. It’s like… Hmm, as if Silver Spoon took of her glasses and thought that nopony would recognise her as a superhero.”

“You’re doing it again,” Twist said.

“What?”

“Your accent slipped,” Twist replied. “I’ve noticed at the party that you can pull off a pretty convincing fancy accent… Posh, as you call it.”

“’ere we go…” Tootsie muttered under her breath.

“In fact, Nursery and I had a talk about it,” Twist continued. “You were adopted when we all were six. Yet, after spending almost half of your life in Equestria, you should’ve caught a local accent. Nursery says that this is how brain’s speech-thingies work.”

“Oh, bugger me.” Tootsie sighed. “Dat’s da way me parents talked. I ain’t wanna talk differently.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “In fact, I ‘ave to kinda fake it now… But if ya tell anypony, ya’ll ‘ave to hire Prancy Drew to find your hind legs.”

“I’d never tell anypony that you’re, in fact, a posh kid,” Twist muttered. Their cart drove next to some drunk, who looked at it in awe before shrugging and taking a sip from the bottle. “What’ll be next? Elocution lessons?”

“I may be, but ya know what’s worse?” Tootsie asked. “Da rest of da guys. Like, Nursery creeps me out.”

“Hey, she’s my sister!” Twist exclaimed, turning her head to look at Tootsie. “And your aunt. Also, it’s not like everypony in the family has a lab in their basement!”

“Yeah, I know,” Tootsie muttered. “Dere wasn’t enough place, so ya ‘ave one in da attic.” She adjusted her mask. “What d’ya say about Tag? It ain’t natural. Sumfin’ must be bloody wrong wiff dat kid if dey ain’t want ‘er in Tartarus.”

“There are things in heaven and earth–“

“Yeah and all dat horseapples. Da problem is dat–“ Tootsie looked at the nearby sports store. It occurred to her that stores shouldn’t be open at night. As such, they shouldn’t have the light on. In this case, it was somewhat justified, since the window was smashed.

“Dat looks like a job for us!” Tootsie got out of the cart and rushed towards the store. Twist parked the cart by the kerb and set her weapon to stun, waiting for the criminals to run away.

“Stop right ‘ere, criminal scum!” Tootsie shouted, levitating the lead pipe and looking around. The shop looked empty – the only sight of activity was a bunch of balls, croquet mallets and cricket bats lying on the floor.

“Hmm…” Tootsie scratched her mane. “Backdoor? Ya fink it’s very clever, huh?” She trotted towards the back of the shop. “Show up and fight like a real motherfu–“ She paused at the sight of two very familiar-looking fillies who just busted the door open and rode inside.

“From the land of speed and… Aaargh!” Sunny screamed when Tootsie threw a basketball in her face.

“What?” Tootsie asked, seeing the look Peachy was giving her. “Ya really thought I’ll wait till ya end dat routine? I’ve ‘eard it once and dat’s enough.”

“So we’re fighting dirty, right?” Peachy asked. She was slowly approaching Tootsie, who noticed that Sunny quickly recovered from getting a ball to her face. Sunny was now trying to outflank Tootsie, hiding behind the pile of sports equipment.

Tootsie smirked and kicked the pile, causing a few balls and pool sticks to fall on Sunny. She noticed that Peachy winced when seeing this, the rhythm of her moves disrupted for a split second. Tootsie wasn’t the pony who’d waste gifts given to her by fate, so she pushed Peachy at the shelf full of weights and bowling balls.

“First rule of fighting dirty,” Tootsie muttered, watching the shelf collapse. “Never talk while fighting.” She looked at the scattered contents of the shelf and nodded. “It may be too late for da lesson for ya, I’m afraid…”

“You’d be surprised,” Peachy muttered, getting up from the pile of bowling balls.

“What da…” Tootsie’s jaw dropped. “Are ya Tagalong, or what?”

“No, I just dodged,” Peachy replied. “Unlike you.”

A pool cue hit Tootsie in the back of the head. She staggered and collapsed, revealing Sunny standing behind her and smiling in the same way as her partner.

“Nice,” Peachy said. “But what took you so long?”

“Dodging stuff,” Sunny replied. “And then helping you dodge stuff.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Peachy looked at the bowling balls. “It’s always better to have an additional perspective.” She clicked her tongue. “Now, where are those two we were chasing?”

Snips rushed through the empty street, hiding in the nook. After a while, Snails joined him, carefully checking if nopony was following them before lighting his horn.

“Who was that?” Snips asked, looking at the shop. “And why did they stop chasing us?”

“It seems to me that they were again surprised by one of those other superheroes,” Snails replied, shrugging. “You know, that violent one in a peculiar outfit.”

“Hmm, if they are all good, does it mean that no matter who wins, good guys will lose?” Snips asked. “Also, we should totally tell them that the owner of this shop paid us to break in there so he’d get insurance money.”

“Better not.” Snails shuddered. “Those brutes wouldn’t listen. They have a primitive mindset basis of which is a statement ‘I have a cricket bat and you don’t’.”

“Yeah, and they’re making more damage than we could do,” Snips said. “Like, they’ll do the whole job and we’ll get paid anyway! Double profit!”

“Exactly, my little friend.” Snails nodded. “You know what? I think that this salad bar near the schoolhouse is still open. Let’s grab something to eat.”

“Meh. Only stoners and hippies go there,” Snips muttered. However, he took a few steps towards the schoolhouse.

Snails smirked. “Exactly, my friend, exactly…”

Twist looked at the shop unsurely. It was a few minutes after Tootsie entered it and there was still no sign from her. Twist of course heard her tripping over something, but she knew well that her niece wasn’t exactly graceful, especially in dark, crowded rooms. Besides, she heard Tootsie’s angry voice, which meant that she just encountered something problematic, like a big pile of toys on the floor.

However, something was off. Twist knew that Tootsie liked to ramble, but even she couldn’t ramble in three voices at the same time. Especially since all of those voices sounded familiar. Cursing under her breath, Twist got out of the cart.

“Captain?” She entered the shop with the launcher in her hoof. “Horseapples!” she shouted when Sunny and Peachy turned to her.

Twist’s reaction was fast. She pulled the trigger of her launcher, causing a blue ray of the stunning spell to fly towards Peachy. Peachy, however, was faster. She ducked and rushed towards Twist, wheels of her rollerskates leaving rubber marks on the floor. Twist quickly switched her launcher to levitation and jumped, firing at the floor. While nearly brushing ceiling with her mane, she looked down and saw that Peachy stopped, making a quick piruet. Sunny was standing on the counter, watching Twist and trying to assess where she’d land.

“No way,” Twist muttered, firing the levitation spell at the wall. It pushed her backwards, causing her to ram into Peachy who groaned and lost balance for a moment – the combined energy of the spell and weight of Twist and her armour delivered quite a solid blow.

Twist made a somersault and landed on all four, only to feel Peachy’s hind legs kicking her in the chest. Sunny rushed towards them, her eyes fixated on Peachy who seemed to be not exactly conscious.

“Controlling her body too?” Twist asked, her eyes widening. “What the–” Before she could finish, she had to dodge Sunny’s punch. Automatically, she pulled the trigger. The launcher was still set on levitation spell – it threw Sunny slightly backwards, but at the same time Peachy regained control over her body and tried to hit Twist while circling around her.

Sunny looked at the whole situation and smirked. She pushed herself forward, gaining speed and synchronising the rhythm of her moves with Peachy. She was about to jump and kick Twist, ending the fight, when somepony caught her leg. She staggered and fell face-first on the floor.

“Pool cue?” Tootsie yelled, standing up and levitating a cricket bat. “Pool cue, ya little–” The rest drowned in the sound of a cricket bat coming into a close contact with a pony’s head.

Twist noticed that Peachy winced visibly when her partner got hit. She stopped now and rushed towards Tootsie, who raised the bat and yelled something.

Twist couldn’t exactly say what words those were and in what language they were spoken. However, when she later recalled the events of that night, she thought that Tootsie’s accent probably reached its logical conclusion – she got so angry that it now consisted solely of apostrophes.

Peachy slowed down, apparently trying to decipher the scream. It was enough for Tootsie. She raised the cricket bat and hit Sunny’s leg. Peachy hissed, grabbing her own leg and tripping over a hoofball. She rolled on her back, losing one of the rollerskates.

“I’m startin’ to like it,” Tootsie muttered. “Ya can beat ‘em both at once.” She poked Sunny with her hoof.

“That’s not fair,” Twist said, walking to Tootsie and grabbing her cricket bat. “We’re supposed to be the good guys.” She pointed at unconscious Sunny. “Doesn’t look like that to me...”

“Oh come on!” Tootsie rolled her eyes. “Dat struggle hit me wiff a pool cue– Aargh!” Tootsie screamed and staggered when Sunny straightened her hooves, delivering a kick to her stomach. She rested herself against Twist.

Peachy stood up and smirked. “We feel each other’s pain, but as long as one of us is conscious, the other also is.” She stretched her forelegs. “But still, you beat my sister. Better run.”

Twist furrowed her eyebrows. On one hoof, Tootsie would probably never agree to run away. On the other, Tootsie was now coughing, trying to catch a breath. Twist aimed the launcher at her and levitated her, running out of the shop. They bounced off the police pony on their way, and ran to the cart. Sunny and Peachy chased them, jumping over the pony.

“What da...” Tootsie muttered when she regained her ability to speak. Twist was already pedalling quickly, to get as far from the shop as possible. “Why are we runnin’ away?”

“Because you’d end in the hospital and I’d be arrested,” Twist replied. “Are they still there?”

“Eeyup,” Tootsie replied, grabbing a wrench from under her seat. “Dey’re getting closer.”

“Hmm... Time for a distraction...” Twist muttered, pulling the brake. Tootsie almost fell out of the vehicle when it skid to a halt. She turned back just when Peachy jumped inside, and whacked her with a wrench. Or rather tried to, since Peachy dodged, ramming into her.

Sunny didn’t have such luck; Twist was more heavily armoured and Sunny bounced off of her, landing on the backseat. Twist grabbed the launcher and switched it to stun, but then somepony kicked it out of her hoof. She looked to her left and saw Tootsie and Peachy piling on one another, apparently trying to bite each other’s ears off.

Twist saw, as if in slow motion, as Tootsie’s hoof missed Peachy and hit the red button next to the steering wheel. For a moment nothing happened; but then, Twist heard the sound of both fluids mixing, forming the rocket fuel.

Flames shot from the back of the cart as it darted forward, leaving tyre marks on the street. Twist grabbed the steering wheel and barely avoided hitting some granny who had apparently decided to go for a walk at 2 AM. The granny didn’t notice anything since she was blind and deaf.

“We’re gonna die!” Sunny screamed, holding on to the backseat. Peachy groaned and wanted to tell her something about showing one’s weaknesses, but couldn’t; Tootsie just managed to hit her liver, knocking the wind out of her.

“Watch out for the levers!” Twist yelled, clenching her hooves on the steering wheel. Making the cart stay on the road was difficult enough without two fillies fighting next to her. At least Sunny didn’t pose a threat anymore.

Tootsie grabbed Peachy’s neck and punched her, pushing her on the dashboard. “I’m gonna wreck ya!” she yelled. “I suck at spellin’, but I can spell ‘pain’! P! A! Y! N! E!” She tried to punch Peachy again but Peachy tilted her head, causing Tootsie to push one of the buttons on the dashboard.

Before Tootsie could remember what was that button doing, she heard a quiet hiss of the ejection seat. “Oh sh–” she muttered before she and Peachy were thrown out of the vehicle, several metres into the air.

Twist looked to her right, only to find out that the seat was missing. She sighed with relief – at least two fighting fillies wouldn’t disturb her anymore. She looked back on the road and saw a sharp turn in front of her – she remembered that during the Summer Harvest Parade one of the floats overshot it and fell into the muddy water below. Then she remembered that the rocket engine was still on and the back of the cart started to catch fire.

With a terrible snap the cart hit the stone and took off into the air. Twist ducked under the steering wheel and saw that Sunny was already there, holding her tightly. They somersaulted, falling down the cliff. The splash deafened them and when they opened their eyes, they saw that half of the cart was filled with water. There were even some nenuphars and a frog in it.

“We’re gonna sink!” Sunny exclaimed.

“Chill out and help me get rid of that water,” Twist muttered, blinking – she realised that she’d lost her contacts. “This cart is amphibious.”

Sunny took off one of her rollerskates and used it to pour water out of the vehicle. Twist pushed a blue button on the dashboard and started pedalling – the chain was now powering a small propeller in the back. She pushed a switch on her armour and took her glasses from a small compartment in it.

“Hey, now I recognise you,” Sunny said. “You’re Twist, right?” She took off her goggles. “Sunny Daze.”

“I knew it,” Twist muttered. “And Tootsie thought it was impossible...”

Sunny nodded. “So that psycho was Tootsie Flute? I knew this accent was familiar. Hey, we were growing flowers as a school project together once.”

They reached the shore and drove on it. Twist got out of the cart and sat next to it, resting her back against its side. Sunny sat next to her.

“I wonder what happened to them,” Twist said. “Well, the ejection seat should be safe, but I didn’t test it.”

“I’d feel something,” Sunny replied, producing a small bottle from her costume. She gave it to Twist, who opened it, took a sip and winced.

“Eww, grape juice,” Twist muttered. She pushed another button on her armour, opening a compartment with a box of peppermint sticks. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Sunny replied, putting a peppermint stick in her mouth. “You’d better take that thing off before it rusts.” She looked at the wheels of her rollerskates. “Drying them will take a while...”

“We screwed up, didn’t we?” Twist sighed. “You should join our team. And stop breaking windows in shops.”

“That just happens.” Sunny shrugged. “Besides, how else can we get inside?”

“Like, use the door?” Twist noticed Sunny’s black eye. “I have a healing spell in my launcher. It works perfectly, I’m sure of that.”

“No, thanks,” Sunny replied. “It’ll disappear in an hour.”

“An hour?” Twist’s eyes widened. “How can a bruise disappear in an hour?”

“I eat lots of carrots,” Sunny replied. “Mom says that it’s healthy.”

“Nevermind.” Twist sighed.

Suddenly, Sunny hissed and grabbed her face. She bit on a peppermint stick, crushing it.

“What’s wrong?” Twist asked. “Maybe I should try to heal you anyway?”

“No,” Sunny replied. “It’s Peachy...”

“–it!” Tootsie yelled, falling into tall grass on the side of the road. The seat landed next to her, making a hole in the ground. Tootsie looked at it and stood up, groaning and rubbing her temples. She spat some dirt that got in her mouth and looked around. “Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Now, where’s dat bloody bugger? She surely ain’t sprout wing from ‘er arse...”

Suddenly, Peachy Pie landed in front of her. She stood on slightly bent legs, like a cat, staring into Tootsie’s eyes. “Hello, chav,” she muttered. “Get ready to die!” She darted forward, only to find out that the wheels of her rollerskates got buried in mud. She tripped, landing face-first in front of Tootsie, who didn’t waste time to kick her.

“Goodnight, ye walloper,” Tootsie muttered, watching Peachy hitting the ground after flying a few metres in the air. “Now, I will kick da crap outta yer sister and I can go back ‘ome.” She turned back and walked away.

Suddenly, a rollerskate flew inches from her. Tootsie turned back, only to get hit in the face with another rollerskate. She screamed, sitting on the ground.

Peachy stood up and slowly walked to her. One of the lenses of her goggles was shattered; pieces of glass left a lot of small wounds around her eye.

“You really thought this would stop me, didn’t you, Cockneigh girl?” Peachy chuckled. “You amuse me. You bloody amuse me.”

“Shut yer gob, tosser.” Tootsie stood in front of Peachy and dug in the ground with her hoof. “Why can’t ya jus’ bloody pass out?”

“It’s not as easy.” Peachy smiled, showing that shards of broken teeth were already growing back. “The two of us had always been close... So close that it’s always like you were fighting two ponies at once.”

Tootsie exhaled loudly through her nose. “Well, d’n I’m gonna s’nd two ‘f ya t’ ‘ell!” she exclaimed charging at her opponent.

Peachy raised her eyebrows at such a mistreating of phonetics. Seeing that Tootsie was getting closer, she dodged to the side and rolled on the grass. A second later, she heard a loud thud and turned back to see that Tootsie ran into a nearby tree. She didn’t get her horn stuck in it, but still the impact made Peachy cringe.

“Jus’ gimme a minute...” Tootsie muttered, raising her hoof. “I ain’t done wiff ya...”

“I see,” Peachy muttered. “You’re, like, wiser than before, after making contact with that tree.”

“Oh, go–” Tootsie’s voice drowned in rustle of the leaves, followed by a thud. “–yourself.” Tootsie looked around. “What was that?”

“A filly scout fell from the tree,” Peachy replied.

Tootsie stood up. “Tag? Is dat you? Damn, she’s dead again...”

“She doesn’t look like her,” Peachy said, walking to the filly scout and poking her with her hoof. “But she does look pretty dead to me.” She looked at the body closer – it was a small, dark orange unicorn with black mane. “Why did she fall from the tree?”

“Gravity and stuff.” Tootsie shrugged. “Miss Cheerilee told us...” She looked at Peachy and paused. “Okay, maybe she was just ripe. Soon she’ll explode in seeds and new filly scouts will grow from dem.”

“You hit yourself harder than I thought,” Peachy muttered, poking the filly scout again. “What are we going to do with her?”

“Stop pokin’ ‘er,” Tootsie muttered. “Ya’re leavin’ da hoofprints. Me dad was always sayin’ ya need a barrel and a few big rocks... Stop pokin’ ‘er, dumb twat!”

“Why?” Peachy asked. “It’s not like she’s gonna–”

“Aaargh!” the filly scout yelled, opening her eyes. “W– wh–”

“What?” Tootsie asked.

“Wh– what ha– ha–”

“Happened?” Peachy prompted. “You fell down the tree you were sitting on in the middle of the night for some reason.”

“Yeah.” Tootsie nodded. “Like, were ya tryin’ to get some badge?”

“I– I–” The filly swallowed. “Caramel deLite!”

The heard a gunshot in the distance, followed by a bullet smashing into the tree and coming out on the other side, along with bark and some wood.

“What was that?” Peachy asked, watching the hole in the tree.

“Dunno, but dat’s some really fu–” Another gunshot barely missed Tootsie’s head, causing her to cower. “–ed up badge dey’re gettin’.”

“Connard!” somepony yelled in the distance. “Je vais te tuer!”

“Who’s dat?”

“I’d rather not ask,” Peachy replied, when the third bullet went wide. In the distance, they saw a small silhouette getting off the ground, apparently after being knocked down by recoil.

The while filly scout cleared her throat. “M–may I g– g–”

“No, ya can’t,” Tootsie replied, grabbing the filly’s scarf and pulling her towards herself. “Ya’re goin’ wiff us.”

“Come on!” Peachy exclaimed. “She has, like, two bullets left and with her aim, she may accidentally hit something.”

They ran. Or rather, Peachy and Tootsie ran. The filly scout had no other option but to follow them.

“Is she still chasing us?” Peachy asked. She was slightly ahead, especially after they got to the road, where she was able to put on her rollerskates.

“‘ardly,” Tootsie replied, yanking the filly scout’s scarf. “Da recoil kicks ‘er backwards...”

“So, we have a bit of time,” Peachy muttered, making a graceful pirouette and stopping in front of Tootsie. “Where do we take her?”

“I discovered a cool place in da cemetery, when we were hidin’ dere recently,” Tootsie replied. “Nice for talkin’ and stuff.”

“Well, I occurs to me that we have different definition of ‘nice’,” Peachy muttered.

“Sod off. We wanna learn why dat tit wanted to shoot us, innit?”

“Innit.” Peachy shrugged, rolling her eyes. “Lead us to the cemetery, my uncivilised little friend.”

The trip wasn’t long, especially since they still could hear muffled shouts in Prench from time to time. Tootsie trotted through the alleys and between the tombstones, till they reached the oldest part of the cemetery. The filly scout shuddered, watching an old mausoleum made of weathered granite. The door was slightly ajar; Tootsie walked to it and opened it.

“It’s ‘ere,” she said. “Some bloke once kicked da door open and everypony can get inside.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that somepony apparently kicked the door from the inside?”

“Dat’d explain why dis old fart who was buried ‘ere is no longer in da coffin.” Tootsie shrugged and pulled the filly scout with her.

Peachy facehoofed – a difficult feat, considering the fact that she had her rollerskates on – and followed Tootsie inside.

The inside of the grave smelled of mould and rubbish left there by various ponies visiting the place. Tootsie let go off the filly scout’s scarf and pushed her towards the coffin.

“Okay,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “What’s yer name and why yer friend tried to kill us?”

“M-my n-name i-is Rah Rah Raisin,” the filly replied, throwing nervous glances around.

“Raisin?” Tootsie asked, raising her eyebrows.

“N-no. Rah Rah Raisin.”

“Dat’s what I’m sayin’.” Tootsie sighed. “Okay, Raisin, now ya’ll tell us what ya were doin’ on dat tree and why dis insane cheese-eatin’ surrender twat was tryin’ to kill us.”

“W– we...” Rah Rah Raisin looked into Tootsie’s eyes and shuddered. No other word managed to find its way out of her lips, apart of “we”, repeated several times, before she groaned in frustration and closed her eyes, shivering.

“Should I put ya in dat coffin?” Tootsie groaned. “C’mon...”

Peachy trotted to Tootsie and pushed her aside. “Listen, you savage brute, if you keep threatening her, she won’t give us anything, except maybe her manure,” she said. “She won’t talk if you keep talking to her like that.”

“I know,” Tootsie muttered. “It’s like, ‘ow my aunt’s lisp gets worse when she’s stressed? She goes to the speech therapist.”

Rah Rah Raisin opened her eyes. She looked at Tootsie and nodded.

“I’m pretty sure she goes to the speech therapist with your aunt and now knows who you are,” Peachy muttered. “Great job, good guy.”

“Oh, c’mon.” Tootsie waved her hoof. “Let’s see how ya will talk wiff ‘er.”

Peachy turned to Rah Rah Raisin. “Okay, Raisin. You want to get out of here and we don’t want to keep you here, okay?” She smiled, which wasn’t the best idea – her teeth still hadn’t healed properly. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on with armed filly scouts here?”

Rah Rah Raisin gulped. “G-go f-fu–”

“Oh, I can see where dis is goin’,” Tootsie muttered.

“Listen, Raisin, isn’t it true that filly scouts shouldn’t lie?” Peachy rolled her eyes. “You won’t get any badges for lying, you know.”

“But she can get a badge for not sayin’ anyffin’,” Tootsie said. “Right, Raisin?”

“Now you gave her that idea.” Peachy sat on the ground and sighed. “I wish there was a filly scout who’d explain us what’s going on...”

“Well, dere’s Tag,” Tootsie muttered. “But hell knows where she lives.” Suddenly, she looked at the communicator on her foreleg. “I ‘ave an idea...”

Twist examined the vehicle. It was slightly burned and mostly wet, but after removing all the frogs from the interior, it was ready to go. Sunny was prancing nervously around her. From time to time she was flinching, as if someone invisible hit her, but when Twist asked her what was going on, she only smiled.

“She’s fighting back,” Sunny said. “She’ll be alright.”

“Well, I hope Tootsie will be alright too,” Twist muttered. “On her seventh birthday–”

“Wait...” Sunny froze. “Something’s weird. They stopped fighting and now I can feel something different...”

“What exactly?” Twist asked, pushing some button on her armour. A pocket opened in it, revealing a notebook and a pen.

“Like, I feel disgusted and fascinated,” Sunny replied. “And a bit scared.” She sat on the ground, rubbing her temples. “I don’t feel well...”

“What’s going on?” Twist was taking notes quickly, staring at Sunny.

“She heals.” Sunny hissed. “She has to heal and run at the same time, so it takes a lot of energy from her and from me.”

Twist produced another peppermint stick from her armour and gave it to Sunny. “Sit in the cart,” she said. “We’re gonna go back to Ponyville and look for them.”

“What if they stopped fighting because your friend got killed?” Sunny shuddered.

“I wouldn’t believe in such luck,” Twist muttered, untangling some seaweed from the chain of her cart. “If Tootsie went to Tartarus, she’d kick the first demon on her way in the testicles and get back here.”

The screen on Twist’s foreleg beeped and flickered. Twist looked at it and gasped. “Good news,” she muttered. “Tootsie’s alive. Also, I need to tell Bon Bon that she’s been skipping her additional classes for dyslectic foals.”

“What?” Sunny raised her eyebrows.

“Look for yourself.” Twist showed Sunny the screen.

The message was short, but interpreting it took Sunny a while.

hwdoyudospeisyzindat OK, so I faugt Peechy end I heet te trea wit me hed and a fillee scaut fel from it and her frend ws schotink at us and we ranaway an tired too tok but she starms and is like rtrdd and we donno wot two doo where tag livz we ned her end wer een dem camenticary and schii aint no wanna not tell us tnotink

“So...” Sunny tilted her head, as if she wanted to check if the message would be more understandable upside-down. “Was a filly scout shooting or shouting at them? And did she eventually tell them something or not?”

“As far as I know, she could be scouting,” Twist muttered. “Though it’s still weird, even for Tootsie.”

“Maybe we’ll ask that sad filly scout who is sitting by that tree?” Sunny asked, pointing into the darkness outside the cart. “Maybe she ran out of cookies?”

Twist pushed the brakes of her cart. “It’s the middle of the night. Was she selling cookies for that long?”

“Let’s see.” Sunny got out of the vehicle and walked to the filly scout – a thin white unicorn without a hat and with slightly crooked sash. Her mane was of darker shade of red than Twist’s, bringing associations with dried blood. It was styled in a rather peculiar style which was either a deed of many hours of experienced hairstylist’s work or just the way her mane looked after getting out of bed. She was carrying a cello case with her.

“Hello,” Twist said, walking behind Sunny. “Are you okay?”

“Bonsoir,” the filly scout replied. “Who are you?”

“We were just passing by,” Twist replied. “I’m The T, and this is–” She looked at Sunny unsurely. “I never know which one is which one...”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sunny replied. “Who are you?”

“Mon nom est Caramel deLite,” the filly said. “Could you drive me to mon base, no?”

“Base?” Twist asked. “You mean, house?”

“Non,” Caramel deLite replied. “I must get back to zee base.”

“Now?” Sunny asked, eyeing Caramel’s cello case. “It’s some challenge, right?”

“Oui, zat’s right, no. I was getting a badge for playing violoncelle in zee middle of zee night.” Caramel deLite chuckled. “But now I need to get it, no?”

“I guess.” Twist shrugged. “Get into the cart. It’s on our way anyway.”

Caramel deLite trotted with them to the cart and threw her cello case at the backseat. She then sat next to it and yawned, eyeing the levers and devices curiously.

“I suck at music,” Sunny whispered to Twist, “but should cellos make such a sound when dropped?”

“Nope,” Twist replied. “Unless this cello is made of metal.”

“Curious.” Sunny sat in the cart next to Twist and turned to Caramel deLite. “Must be pretty busy, huh? Filly scouts, cello...”

“It’s easy, no.” Caramel deLite shrugged. “Le badge in building IEDs was worse...”

“Do we want to know?” Sunny whispered to Twist.

“We want to investigate... from a safe distance,” Twist replied, pedalling faster. She sighed with relief, seeing the filly scout’s base at the end of the street. She noticed that the building changed slightly over the course of the last few weeks and made a mental note to ask Tagalong if every such a place had a minigun on the roof.

“Just drop me zere,” Caramel deLite muttered. “Or maybe you will come wis me?”

“No, thanks,” Twist replied. “Too close to the Everfree and we have something else to do.”

Caramel deLite chuckled. “Don’t worry about zee Everfree. We’re protecting it. Par exemple, we’re looking for zee connards who attacked zee timberwolves.”

Twist gulped. “And what will you do when you catch them?”

“La décapitation par la guillotine...” Caramel deLite laughed. “Anyway you’ll be always welcome here. Merci beaucoup.”

“A peculiar individual,” Sunny muttered, watching Caramel deLite walking to the wooden house. “Do you think we should do something about that?”

“Definitely,” Twist replied. “I have a feeling that we’ll get back to this place soon. But now, let’s get to the cemetery before Tootsie and your sister do something to that poor filly scout they apparently caught.”

The ride to the cemetery was even faster than before. Twist was pushing the pedals hard, causing the chain to screech and make other noises suggesting that it may rust.

“‘ere ya are,” Tootsie muttered, seeing them. She was resting against the gate of the graveyard, her eyes half-closed. “We were gettin’ bored.”

“On our way here, we saw a weird filly scout,” Twist said. “White redhead, spoke with Prench accent.”

“Sounds like dat berk who wanted to shoot us,” Tootsie muttered. “A propos: Peachy, get dat kid ‘ere.”

Peachy walked from behind the gate, dragging the filly scout behind her. Rah Rah Raisin was tied and gagged with her own scarf. She was moving her eyes from one filly to another, shuddering.

“What did you do to her, idiots?” Twist asked.

“She offended my mother,” Peachy muttered. “This is not something we take lightly.”

“This is not something you take lightly,” Sunny said. “I know when to stop being a brute.”

“Don’t look at me.” Tootsie sighed. “It took her ten minutes to pronounce dat word. We got kinda tired of waitin’, so we gagged ‘er.”

Twist rolled her eyes, walked to Rah Rah Raisin and removed the scarf from her mouth. “You okay?” she asked.

“N-no.”

“We’ll go to your friend.” Twist helped the filly take a place in the cart. “A propos, Tootsie: they know about the timberwolves. The filly scout we met mentioned beheading.”

“Y-you’ve m-met Ca-caramel deLite?” Rah Rah Raisin asked.

“Briefly.” Twist sighed. “Does she often play cello in the middle of the night?”

“Her ‘cello’ managed to pierce the tree,” Peachy said. “And she clearly wanted to blow our brains out.”

“We’ve heard you know someone who can explain us what’s going on,” Sunny added. “Let’s go to her.”

“We?” Tootsie asked. “Did ya, like, exchange da messages telepatrically?”

“Telepathically,” Twist muttered, resting her forehead on her hoof. “I’m pretty sure that’s what they did.”

“So, if I smack ya...” Tootsie hit Sunny in the back of the head. “Hey, it works!” she exclaimed, seeing Peachy wince.

“One day, I’ll murder you and no court will convict me...” Peachy muttered through gritted teeth. “Let’s go to your friend before it ends in bloodshed.”

The trip to Tagalong’s house wasn’t long. She lived quite close to the cemetery and even though they had to travel with a tied filly scout in the backseat, Sunny and Peachy had no trouble with keeping up with Twist’s pace on their rollerskates.

“So, dis is where Tag lives, huh?” Tootsie raised her eyebrows. The house was quite similar to the filly scouts’ headquarters. It was a large wooden hut, encircled by something that looked more like a palisade rather than a fence. Next to the house there was a mast with Equestrian flag hanging from it.

“Okay...” Twist muttered. “So... Do we knock, or what?”

“I can climb on it,” Sunny said. “But I don’t like trespassing.”

“Yeah, right.” Tootsie rolled her eyes. “Remember HayDonald’s?”

“You were there first,” Peachy muttered.

“But we left the door open and you busted through the window,” Twist said. “You can go there, as long as you don’t break anything.”

“Okay.” Peachy backpedalled, her eyes focused on the palisade. “Look at this, because it’s gonna be awesome...” She rode forward, the wheels of her rollerskates sparking as she gained speed.

“She’s gonna twat into da wall,” Tootsie muttered, just before Sunny jumped.

It was a truly majestic jump. The filly somersaulted in the air, touched the tip of one of the planks with a rollerskate, gaining more height. She made another somersault and gently disappeared behind the palisade. Or rather, it would be gentle, if not the sounds they heard next.

“Oh, motherfu–” Sunny’s voice ended in a shriek, mixed with some metallic sound. At the same time, Peachy groaned, rubbing her leg.

“You okay there?” Twist asked, trying to look between the stakes.

“A bear trap!” Sunny exclaimed. “Who puts a bear trap in their garden?”

“Can you regenerate?” Peachy asked. “It hurts.”

“I have a bear trap on my hoof. Try to guess.”

“Couldn’t ya just dodge it?” Tootsie asked, chuckling.

“It’s hard to dodge when you notice it only after landing in it...” Sunny’s voice faltered.

“What are you doing here?” somepony asked in a high-pitched voice. “There goes my bear caretaker badge...”

“Tag!” Twist exclaimed. “We need you!”

“Does it have something to do with a filly in my bear trap?” They heard Tagalong trotting to Sunny. “Oh my... Does it hurt?”

“No!” Sunny shouted. “I just love being trapped like that!”

“Oh. Good.” Tagalong climbed on the palisade. They saw that she was wearing woodland camo pajamas, and carrying a plush Royal Guard in her hoof. “So, what did you want, Twist?” She looked at the group in front of her and her eyes focused on the tied filly scout. “Rah Rah Raisin? What are you doing here?”

“Wait...” Tootsie looked at Tagalong unsurely. “Her name ain’t just Raisin?”

“Took us a year to figure that out, but she signed her ID like that.” Tagalong shrugged. “What did you do to her?”

Rah Rah Raisin shuddered. “W-we h-had a little m-mis-misunderstanding... G-Ginger Snap... Y-you are w-with them?”

Tagalong slapped her forehead, falling from the palisade and, judging by a scream, landing on Sunny. She emerged a moment later and scratched her mane. “Now I remember what I wanted to tell you,” she said. “Our scoutmaster, Cranberry Crisp, went insane. She wants to shoot everyone who disturbs the timberwolves.”

“So, we’re safe,” Tootsie muttered. “As long as no one disturbs the timberwolves.”

“Well, that was a few days ago,” Tagalong said. “Recently, she wanted to kill everyone going to the Everfree. Tomorrow, she may want to kill everyone who has ‘t’ in their name.”

“I can’t see a problem,” Peachy muttered.

“I do.” Twist frowned. “I’m pretty sure Tootsie sees it too.”

Peachy turned to Tagalong. “Okay then. But what filly scouts falling off the trees have to do with that?”

Tagalong looked at Rah Rah Raisin. “She can somehow control their minds. She tried that on me, but it disappeared when I got hit by a train on my way home and she haven’t noticed.”

Twist leaned to Rah Rah Raisin, produced a magnifying glass from her armour and looked into the filly scout’s eyes. “So, she’s hypnotised, huh? What can we do to snap her out of it?”

“The train worked,” Tagalong said. “But there are none at this hour.”

“You should join us,” Peachy said to Twist, looking at her hoof unsurely. “You’re wasting your time with those idiots.”

Tootsie produced a crowbar from the cart. “I can whack ‘er and see what ‘appens.”

“I can whack you, but it’ll only make a loud echo in your head,” Peachy muttered. “Why does my other hoof hurt?”

“I’m biting it to stop myself from screaming in pain.” Sunny’s voice came from behind the wall.

“Oh bother...” Tagalong jumped off the palisade. “Here, I’ll set you free.”

“Thank yo– Aargh! It’s even worse after you opened it!” Sunny screamed.

“Do you want me to put it back?”

Instead of a reply, they heard a bang when Sunny kicked one of the stakes in the barricade, smashing it in two. She then walked through the hole on three hooves. The fourth, which she held in the air, had a row of slowly disappearing wounds.

“Okay,” Sunny said. “Now, we’d better talk with that filly scout before she–”

Suddenly, Rah Rah Raisin’s horn started to glow. Everypony cowered, ready to dodge. The filly disappeared in a flash, leaving the ropes behind.

“Oh. I forgot to tell you that she can teleport,” Tagalong muttered. “She’s a natural...”

“What?” Tootsie exclaimed. “How come dat kid can teleport while I can’t teleport me own crap!”

An uncomfortable question hanged in the air. Luckily, nopony dared to ask it.

“The problem is, where she teleported...” Twist muttered. “And who’ll learn our names...”

“You missed?” Cranberry Crisp yelled, kicking the table. She trotted to Caramel de Lite who was sobbing in the corner of the room and raised her hoof. “How could you miss them?!”

“Le recul...” Caramel deLite whispered, shielding her head with her hooves. “I fell...”

“You fell and now your friend is in enemy’s hooves!” Cranberry Crisp yelled, walking to the middle of the room, grabbing a chair, and throwing it at the wall. One of the pieces hit Caramel deLite in the back of the head, making her squeal.

Cranberry Crisp groaned and ran back to the filly scout. She grabbed and lifted her, pushing her against the wall. “I trusted you... You were obeying my orders even without the mind control... But now you failed me. There can be only one punishment...” She looked into Caramel deLite’s eyes. “I’m gonna sell you to the wea–”

A flash of bright light interrupted the scoutmaster. She released Caramel deLite who fell to the floor unceremoniously. Cranberry Crisp turned to see Rah Rah Raisin trying to get her bearings after a long-distance teleportation.

“Rah Rah Raisin!” Caramel deLite exclaimed, wiping her nose. She ran to her friend and hugged her. “Are you okay?”

“That’s the least of your concerns,” Cranberry Crisp pushed Caramel deLite aside and lit her horn, aiming it at Rah Rah Raisin. “You, tell me what happened. And don’t stammer.”

Twist sighed. “So, we can safely assume that they know about us.” She turned to Peachy. “In that situation, I think you should go with us to our base. We have more technical support, you know.”

“Well, it’s the only thing you have,” Peachy muttered, staring at Tootsie.

“Bugger off.” Tootsie rolled her eyes. “I can kick yer arse anytime.”

“One day we’ll see...” Sunny muttered, appearing right behind Tootsie’s back.

Twist cleared her throat. “Maybe after we’re done with insane filly scouts.” She turned to Tagalong. “You, wake up Dinky. I’ll check what our mission control is doing...”

Far from Tagalong’s house, Button was fighting his own fight. As his teammate, Not_A_Colt had just demonstrated, not even double jump could do much against Buy_Some_Apples and her Level 3 Sentry, RD_Is_Best_Pony and her sticky bomb trap, and SBelle666 whose flamethrower was the cause of death of way too many of Button’s friends.

“Not good at all,” Button muttered, hiding behind the wall. He wasn’t sure if MyNameIsArcher was still there, but since he already got one arrow to the head from her, he preferred to be careful. “Nursery, are you here?”

“Always,” Nursery replied. “ÜberCharge ready.”

Button smiled and began revving his minigun. “Now, we will play...”

Author's Note

Trivia 1: Tootsie's personality is loosely based around the fact that her canon name nobody uses is Liza Doolots, which is apparently a reference to Eliza Doolittle. Thus, her backstory is My Fair Lady with the cast doing crack during the rehearsals until they forgot most of the plot and came up with something on a whim.
Trivia 2: A genetically-engineered potato isn't the only thing that ran away from the lab.
Trivia 3: Tootsie's message for unadvanced readers: "howdoyoudospacesinthat OK, so I fought Peachy and I hit the tree with my head and a filly scout fell from it and her friend was shooting at us and we ran away and tried to talk, but she stammers and is like, retarded and we don't know what to do. Where does Tag live? We need her and we're in the cemetery and she ain't wanna not tell us nothing."

Issue 9: The Attack of Evil Filly Scouts!

“Hey, you! Wake up!”

“Tubby, it’s not even six...” Dinky muttered, turning in her bed. “What’s going on?”

“We’re in danger. Get up and join your allies as soon as you can.”

Dinky groaned. “Tubby, what are you talking about? What danger? And why does it need to come in the morning?”

“Enemies never sleep,” Tubby replied. “Just like me. If you feel you won’t manage to do that yourself, you can always let me take over.”

“Never!” Dinky exclaimed, rolling out of her bed and landing on all four. “You know bad things happen when I let you control my body.”

"Let me take control.” Tubby’s voice sounded metallic, like a chainsaw getting started. “I'll give you powers you can't imagine."

"I have good imagination,” Dinky replied. “Ms. Cheerilee said that."

"That's what she says to every foal whose IQ is lower than their hoof size!"

“Strong words for a potato who can only whisper things in my head.” Dinky walked to the mirror and levitated a comb.

Tubby made a sound that could be a sigh, if genetically engineered vegetables could sigh. “Listen, moron, how do you want to fight enemies when you still want to manually operate your body? Your reflexes and strength are too weak to be effective...”

“Don’t worry,” Dinky replied. “Mommy said that if I eat lots of oatmeal, I’ll grow big and strong.”

“With me controlling the body, you wouldn’t need to eat,” Tubby said. “Sun is where it’s at. A source of energy for a whole army of augmented soldiers who can–”

“Oh, shut up,” Dinky muttered and walked out of her room.

Bon Bon opened her eyes. Without moving her body, she slowly looked to the left. Lyra was still sleeping. Carefully, Bon Bon lifted the blanket and left the bed swiftly, landing on the soft carpet. Lyra never knew that its intended use was to muffle every hoofstep.

The bed was also special. It took Bon Bon a month to take all the Lyra’s measurements and find a suitable bed in Quills and Sofas. However, it was time well spent – now the bed was suited exactly to Lyra’s perception of comfort, causing her to sleep so tight that even a great pony war wouldn’t be able to wake her up. Just like Bon Bon planned.

The well-oiled wickets made no sound when Bon Bon left the room and walked downstairs to her secret lab, which could be entered only by playing the first three notes of Blind Pegasus Blues on a piano standing in Bon Bon’s not-secret lab. There, in a small room with walls covered with newspaper clippings, Bon Bon could look through the movies her cameras recorded during the night.

“Celestia have mercy on us all,” Bon Bon whispered to herself. She got up from her chair and ran out of the house.

Luckily, it was too early for reasonable ponies to be awake. She galloped through the town, took a shortcut through Sweet Apple Acres and reached Carrot Top’s house in no time. Normally she’d chuckle at the carrot-themed building, but there was no time for such things.

“I hope Celestia forgives me for what I’m about to do,” Bon Bon said to herself before knocking on the door.

Nothing happened. Bon Bon sighed and banged at the door.

“It’s not even six!” Carrot Top’s voice came from the second floor. “Take a carrot from the field and stick it up your–”

“I need to talk to you, Carrot,” Bon Bon replied. “Now.”

A moment later, Carrot Top opened the door. “What do you want?” she asked. “If my kids beat your kid, I’m pretty sure it was the other way around. This little brute–”

Bon Bon sighed. “Sleeper agent Carrot Top, I hereby pronounce thee awoken,” she said in an official tone.

Carrot Top froze. A few seconds later she blinked and looked around unsurely. “Sweetie Drops,” she said.

“Golden Harvest,” Bon Bon replied. “Good to see you back... as yourself.”

“What’s going on?” Carrot Top asked. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t wake me up just to talk about good old times... After Hoofington–”

“If we act quickly, rebuilding the whole town in one night and wiping memories of twenty thousand ponies won’t be necessary this time,” Bon Bon said. “But yeah, it’s about your kids.”

“You mean, those two experimental clones pretending to be my kids?” Carrot Top asked, gesturing Bon Bon inside.

“Exactly.” Bon Bon walked into the kitchen and took a carrot from the table. “Actually, I was wondering why Project Uberpferd let you keep them after field testing was over.”

“They didn’t,” Carrot Top replied. “You know, they erased my memories, but they couldn’t make me forget my skills. On a related note, dead agents make a good fertiliser. Does the Project want to try to take them again?”

Bon Bon looked at the carrot she was holding and put it back on the table. “Worse. Remember that prototype military chip some idiot ‘misplaced’?”

Dinky put the spoon in the empty bowl of oatmeal and carried it to the sink. Tubby didn’t speak again during breakfast – perhaps she hurt his feelings again.

“How are you today, muffin?” Dinky’s mom asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Great, mom,” Dinky replied.

“Are you going to do superhero stuff with Twist again?”

“I think so.” Dinky smiled. “I need to get my outfit.”

“With me in control, you won’t need an outfit,” Tubby said. “I can make you invisible, or make others fear whenever they see you...”

“I don’t want to be invisible,” Dinky muttered.

“Are you talking with your imaginary friend again, honey?”

“Yes, mom.” Dinky trotted to the stairs. “He asks what’s for dinner.”

“How about a potato casserole?” Dinky’s mom asked.

“Oh, hell no,” Tubby muttered. “I know it gives us more strength than any other kind of food, but that’s just plain wrong.”

“If something is plain wrong, is it checkered right?” Dinky asked.

“That’s beyond my programming.” Tubby made a mental equivalent of a shrug. “Currently, the level of danger is roughly fifty four percent. We’d better go and find the rest before it reaches sixty.”

“If you say so...” Dinky walked to her room to take her outfit.

Carrot Top’s eyes widened. “P0T4T0 chip on the loose... It may be Vanhoover all over again. For Luna’s sake, there’s a reason they dumped it and used peaches...”

“We shouldn’t have tampered with those in the first place,” Bon Bon said. “That’s why I left the Project after the bugbear fiasco.” She shuddered. “But that’s not the worst. The chip is not fully active. According to my calculations and observations, the situation we currently have is more or less like Manehattan.”

“Which Manehattan?” Carrot Top asked.

“The one with PTSD triggered by a sight of a mop,” Bon Bon said.

“This one...” Carrot Top shivered and hid her face in her hooves. “The smell of plastic bags... Torn sashes everywhere...”

“Yeah,” Bon Bon muttered. “But at least we know about everything this time.”

Carrot Top stood up. “I just remembered something,” she said. “I still have that secret room in here...”

Button opened his eyes and immediately realised that he was still dreaming. While having seven fillies around his bed would be nice, he knew well such things just couldn’t happen in real life. Especially to him.

“Ya fink I can smack ‘im?”

“There are easier ways to wake someone up.” That was definitely Nursery’s voice. Button thought that he didn’t want to wake up. That moment was too beautiful.

“Hey, you! I can see from here that you’re awake!”

“I am?” Button asked, opening his eyes again. There were definitely seven fillies around his bed. Twist, Nursery, Dinky, Tootsie, Tagalong, and two rollerskaters were looking at him impatiently. “How did you get here?”

“Through the window, of course,” Twist replied.

“Does anyone use doors anymore?” Button asked, rolling his eyes.

“We do, but they don’t last long,” the filly with roller skates and a blue costume said. “By the way, I’m Sunny Daze and this is Peachy Pie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Button muttered. “So, what’s the problem?”

“A bunch of mind-controlled filly scouts with guns trying to get us!” Twist exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “And it’s all Tootsie’s fault.”

“Mine?” Tootsie asked. “It was Tag’s friend!”

“We’d better talk about that later.” Button jumped out of the bed and opened the closet where he kept all his equipment. The monitors lit up and Button started banging at the keyboard. “I’ll put the drone over their headquarters...”

The view from the camera changed. After a short flight over the Everfree Forest, it centered on a wooden house.

“I can’t see any activity there,” Button muttered. “Are you sure it was them? You know, someone could’ve disguised as a filly scout...”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Tagalong asked, trying to look down on Button – a difficult feat since she was a head shorter than him.

“One can say she’s dead serious...”

“Nursery!” Twist exclaimed.

“What? I recently figured out puns,” Nursery Rhyme muttered. “They’re new to me...”

“Tell me when you figure out subtlety,” Twist replied before turning to Button. “Zoom on the window.”

Button pushed a few keys. Suddenly, the image wobbled and the ground started to grow bigger.

“We don’t need that much zoom,” Peachy said, when the image of the grass filled the whole picture.

“It got shot down,” Button muttered. “But the camera is still working.”

“So, there’s some activity there, after all,” Nursery said. “Small and made of lead.”

“When did you figure out one-liners?” Twist asked.

“After a night shift with Sweetheart and a patient who was half the pony he used to be.”

“Shh!” Button looked at the screen. “Someone’s coming!”

They saw the faces of two filly scouts on the monitor. Judging by the shaking, one of them poked the downed drone with a stick.

“Maybe they’ll carry it inside...” Twist muttered, watching the screen carefully.

Indeed, after a few minutes, one of the scouts grabbed the drone and walked with it to the base. Tagalong grabbed a crayon and a piece of paper from Button’s desk and started to draw something.

“You can draw a plan just by watching where they’re going?” Peachy asked. “Impressive.”

Tagalong sighed. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m a filly scout too. I visit this building almost every day and I know it by heart.”

“So... We could’ve just asked?” Tootsie hit her face with her hoof.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice too.”

“Okay,” Dinky muttered. “So, are we going to go there?”

“Yes.” Twist looked at Tagalong’s plan and scratched her mane. “I already have an intricate plan how to get there and how to stop Cranberry Crisp…”

Abernethy Biscuit looked at the door. It’d been a while since they found a downed drone, but the voice in her head was still telling her to stay there with the others and watch for any danger. Custard Cream, Fig Roll, Macaroon, Fortune Cookie, Oat Crisp, and Party Ring were sitting there with her, their weapons drawn and ready to fire.

Abernethy looked at the submachine gun in her hooves. Deep down, something was telling her that it was wrong and they were supposed to be peaceful. However, Cranberry Crisp’s voice was still present in her mind, sweeping all the doubts away. Abernethy clicked the fire selector absentmindedly and looked at Fig Roll, who held a sniper rifle twice longer than her. She wondered how her friend would be able to shoot it, but Cranberry immediately told her that it didn’t matter.

“It’s quiet,” Party Ring whispered. “Too quiet.”

“I can sing a song, if you want.” Custard Cream put her assault rifle on the table and grabbed a guitar. While she did so, the assault rifle somehow fired, blowing a hole in the wall right next to Fortune Cookie’s head. The fillies screamed, but then the mind control kicked in, calming them down.

“I wonder why it keeps happening,” Fortune Cookie said, looking at the hole and picking a bullet from it. “They shouldn’t shoot if no one pulls the trigger.”

“That’s because some of us have a nasty habit of holding the triggers.” Macaroon replied and pointed her gun at Oat Crisp. “Like you. You keep waving this thing around and you may shoot someone.” She scratched her head with the barrell.

“Girls?” Fortune Cookie looked at the door. “I’m pretty sure I can hear–” She was rudely interrupted by the door falling out of its hinges and hitting her.

“CAPTAIN COCKNEIGH!”

It all happened in a few seconds. Abernethy Biscuit saw some silhouette swinging a lead pipe at Fortune Cookie who screamed and fell on the floor. A couple of vines materialised out of thin air and grabbed Fig Roll and Oat Crisp, knocking their heads against each other.

“No!” Abernethy shouted, grabbing her gun and firing. She managed to hit one of the intruders, but a second later, a bright flash of light blinded her. When she regained her vision, she saw two ponies rollerskating past her and jumping into the air. Custard Cream and Macaroon aimed at them, but the ponies landed on their heads, beating them with rollerskates.

Fortune Cookie shook her head and stood up, trying to flank the attackers. However, a spell fired from some strange device rendered her unconscious again.

Abernethy gasped as she was pulled into the corner of the room by limping Custard Cream and Fig Roll, who could barely see anything due to black eyes. They joined Party Ring, who, like Abernethy, was more or less unscathed. Together, they grabbed whatever weapons they had left and fired them at the attackers.

The voice in Abernethy’s head cheered when two attackers fell. The filly scout, however, had no time for celebration. Another bright flash of light and the rollerskating fillies were above them again. Party Ring was crying after a mass of vines took her gun away and tied the barrel into a nice knot. Abernethy barely noticed when Custard Cream got launched into the air by two simultaneous kicks, hit the wall, and fell on the floor limply. In fact, Abernethy had a worse problem.

A unicorn filly wearing a mask and a colourful suit was standing in front of her, levitating a lead pipe. Her suit was partially torn, revealing metal plates underneath the fabric. She had a small cut on her face, but apart from that, she was fine and probably really pissed off.

Shoot her! Cranberry Crisp’s voice rang in Abernethy’s ears.

“No…” Abernethy whispered, her hooves gripping her gun tighter.

Come on! Do it!

“No I won’t!” Abernethy Biscuit exclaimed. A moment later, the lead pipe fell on her head, sending her to the floor, as well as a happy place where cheerful filly scouts were singing and dancing in the middle of a large wooden hall, waiting for a call to Ragnarok.

“What?” Tootsie Flute asked, noticing the stares her companions were giving her. “I told ‘er to drop da gun but she ain’t listen.”

“Did she die?” Tagalong asked, poking Abernethy with her hoof. Abernethy groaned, rubbing her head.

“I’d say she’s alive,” Peachy Pie said. “I don’t know many corpses who can do that.”

Suddenly, they heard a muffled curse. They turned around and saw Twist who got up, groaning. She looked at her armour and tore a fragment of metal from the chest cover. “What are you looking at?” she asked. “They shot me, morons!”

“It seems the armour stopped the bullet,” Dinky said.

“Yeah, and there’s nothing to worry about.” Tagalong smiled. “They shot me twice and I’m fine.”

Twist facehoofed. “Idiots… Remember the plan?”

“Umm…” Tootsie looked around at the smashed furniture and unconscious filly scouts. “Knock at da door, wait for ‘em to open, shoot everyone wiff da freezin’ ray?”

“Does it look like going according to the plan to you?” Twist asked coldly.

Tootsie blushed. “Well, I knocked a bit too hard… And then I panicked.” She grabbed a gun and threw it at the wall, where it went off, almost killing Dinky. “Ya know, I hate guns. If ya can’t kill no one wiff yer bare hooves, ya ‘ave no right to kill ‘em, I fink.”

“Then why did you hide that gun in your outfit?” Dinky asked.

“Be’er safe dan sorry,” Tootsie replied. “Where’s da rest?”

Peachy shrugged. “Yeah, I find it strange that our little display didn’t attract a larger audience. Or maybe we’re just that good…”

An alarm went off. Massive metal doors blocked the entrance, while the corridor sunk in darkness, pierced only by blinking red lights.

“It seems we’re not,” Sunny Daze muttered.

Bon Bon put on a bulletproof vest and stuck a pin with an Equestrian flag in it. She smeared some camo paint on her face and tied her mane with a bandana. Then she grabbed a battle saddle with four heavy machine guns and put it on her back, trying to make the crosshair work while the weight of ammo nearly crushed her spine. Bon Bon shrugged it off and grabbed another belt, this one adorned with several knives, some of them meant for throwing and some of them designed to behead someone before they had a chance to make a noise.

Struggling to take a step, Bon Bon strapped a bandolier with grenades to herself and put a radio with a built-in grenade launcher on her back. She then put on her sunglasses and slipped a cigarette pack into a pocket on her chest.

“Are you gonna need all this?” Carrot Top asked. “Remember that we’ll have to walk through the town like this and someone may ask questions.”

Bon Bon said nothing. She took a step forward and collapsed on the floor, losing half of the equipment.

“Also, remember that they’re kids.” Carrot Top walked to another rack full of guns and grabbed a small shotgun. “This will be enough.”

Button looked at the screen and blinked. He could hardly see anything – the flashes of explosions, static, and glitches were filling most of the picture. What was worse, one of the microphones apparently got damaged, mangling the sound and catching mostly high-pitched squeals.

“What’s going on in there?” Nursery asked, banging her hoof against the screen. It didn’t help much. All they could see was Tootsie grabbing Dinky and squeezing her, sending a barrage of potatoes at the unseen enemies.

“Button?” Tagalong’s face appeared on the screen. “Are you there?” Something behind her exploded and the camera got sprayed with thick, grey and red substance. A flash of bright light illuminated it, changing it into a creepy, abstract painting. A moment later, Tagalong smeared it on the camera.

“What’s going on?” Button asked.

“We have a bit of a situation here,” Tagalong replied. “My friend tried to blow us up with a grenade launcher, but it didn’t work. Now Tootsie is beating the poop out of her, I think.”

“She’s beating the what?” Nursery’s eyes widened.

Tagalong blushed. “Well, she didn’t exactly say–” An explosion engulfed her, partially melting the camera. The screen flickered, but the sound, although weak, was still discernible. Button could hear a “fwoosh” before Tagalong muttered, “Sorry, gotta go.”

“Well, something went wrong,” Nursery said. “We’d better help them before they get killed or worse, caught.”

“But how?” Button asked. “I’m not going there, unless we get something heavily armoured.”

“Well, there’s that carriage you built.” Nursery Rhyme smiled. “I always wanted you to take me for a ride…”

“It’ll take ages to get there.” Button groaned and raised from his seat. “Though if we want to help them, we’d better start now…”

Caramel deLite walked slowly down the stairs. Other fillies were fleeing or lying on the floor, groaning and weeping, but not her. She smiled, watching stray bullets fly past her, sending splinters around. Despite the smoke, dust, and noise filling the room, she could see the situation clearly. Most of the filly scouts were defeated. Rah Rah Raisin was cornered, but she was still holding her own, if only by teleporting out of the way of incoming attacks.

“Putain de bordel de merde,” Caramel deLite muttered under her breath, summing up the situation pretty nicely.

The two rollerskating fillies heard her. As if on a cue, they sped up, preparing to jump up the stairs to reach her. Caramel deLite smirked and levitated a jar of molasses. In a swift motion, she threw it on the floor right under the wheels of the roller skates.

“Aargh!” Sunny Daze lost her balance as the wheels got glued to the floor and fell flat on her face. Peachy Pie managed to dodge a puddle of molasses, but it caused her to jump a split second too late and a bit too much to the left. Instead of reaching Caramel deLite, she came into a rather painful contact with the stairs’ railing.

Caramel deLite watched as Peachy Pie slid to the floor, holding her stomach. To her surprise, Sunny Daze also groaned in pain, rolling on the ground.

“You okay, sis?” Sunny Daze asked, hissing.

“I’d be, if Tootsie didn’t try to beat me to death yesterday…” Peachy rubbed her head. “I’ll be fine soon…”

“No, you von’t.” Caramel deLite aimed her horn at Peachy and used a tranquilising spell on her. Then she bucked Tootsie, who was sneaking at her, levitating a table. Tootsie hissed, dropping the table on her own head.

Another spell flew past Caramel deLite, charring her fur. She raised her head and looked at Twist, who aimed her death ray at her. Caramel smirked, charging her horn.

The spell collided in mid-air with Twist’s death ray, sending sparkles around and burning gashes in the wall. One of the stray rays blew a large hole in the floor, leading straight to the basement. Caramel deLite maintained the spell, her fur drenching in sweat quickly. Twist clenched her hooves on the launcher, which started to burn her. Twist’s eyes widened as she looked at her weapon: its crystals lit up, jarring her eyes.

With a painful cry, Twist dropped the launcher. The spell hit her armour, throwing her across the room. Steam raised from the plates. Twist fell on the ground like a metal-clad sack of potatoes, and rolled, groaning.

“Vho’s next?” Caramel deLite turned to Dinky. “Hov about you, mon ami.... She looked at Dinky closer. “Putain.”

“So are you,” Dinky replied, her voice harder and lower than usual. She was holding Rah Rah Raisin upside-down, tangled in vines. One of them was holding filly’s horn, preventing her from teleporting. “Give up, or…”

“Or vhat?” Caramel deLite asked.

When Dinky spoke, her voice sounded like usual again. “Umm… I’m not sure yet…”

“Leave her alone!” Caramel deLite exclaimed. “Or I’ll fry you, you… monstre de la nature!”

Tootsie Flute rubbed the back of her head and stood up. She looked at the battlefield, assessing the current situation. A grim smirk appeared on her lips when she saw Rah Rah Raisin.

“I’m gonna tell ya what,” Tootsie said, trotting to Caramel deLite. “I’ve seen ‘er doin’ dat before,” she lied. “She ain’t da one for words, but when da vines work, ya’re right said Fred. Like, first, she breaks da ribs. One. By. One.” She punctuated each word with a gentle pat on Caramel’s side. “Den, she squeezes till da mince falls outta sockets an’ roll on da floor. Da best is yet to come…” She chuckled, watching Rah Rah Raisin tremble in fear and Caramel deLite looking at her and shuddering. “She puts ‘er vines inside and plants seeds. Den ya rot underground for years, alive, while potatoes grow in ya…”

Caramel deLite opened her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. After a moment of hesitation, she suddenly gave out a powerful scream. She charged her horn, aiming it at the ceiling. Dinky backpedalled, Rah Rah Raisin slipping from her grasp. Tootsie jumped away, covering her head.

A lead pipe fell on Caramel deLite’s head. It wasn’t strong enough to knock her down, but enough for her to flinch and unleash her magic at the nearby window. The spell pierced through it as if it was nothing and discharged itself in the Everfree Forest. Caramel deLite staggered and collapsed, panting heavily.

“Are you okay?” Tagalong asked, throwing the lead pipe away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Va te faire foutre…” Caramel deLite muttered, her voice raspy. “My head…”

“She overexerted ‘erself.” Tootsie chuckled, poking Caramel’s horn. “Not so ping pong now, huh?”

“Is everypony okay?” Tagalong asked.

“I’m fine.” Dinky cleared her throat and dragged a tied Rah Rah Raisin closer to her. “Tootsie, how did you know I could do that?”

“I didn’t,” Tootsie Flute replied. “Ya can? Also, stop doin’ dat fing wiff yer voice. It’s creepy.”

Twist groaned and stood up, despite her armour being disabled. “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Though it’ll take a while to reboot… Can anyone contact Button for me?”

“Not sure if it’ll ever work.” Peachy walked to Twist, limping on three roller skates. “It got short-circuited, it seems.” She sighed. “Now excuse me, I have to unglue my sister from the floor…”

“I guess we’d better find some place to rest and think what to do,” Twist said, clicking something on her armour. “It’s no use storming the upstairs right now.”

“Well, well, well…” They turned to the stairs and saw Cranberry Crisp, trotting towards them.

One could say that Cranberry Crisp walked down the stairs, but such words wouldn’t match the cat-like grace of her moves. Cranberry Crisp descended from the stairs, clicking her tongue and smiling at the fillies.

Caramel deLite, for her age, was strong and magically able. She didn’t need that much of mind control as other fillies to do what Cranberry Crisp wanted her to do. Her natural inclination towards evil, a crooked mind of a soon-to-be psychopath (or a great lawyer) was something Twist and her friends (well, maybe apart from Tootsie) never experienced before. However, even Caramel deLite was no match for Cranberry Crisp. The fact that Cranberry Crisp was older bore almost no meaning in that. In the age when Caramel deLite was playing with matches, Cranberry Crisp already burned down an orphanage.

“You have done well,” Cranberry Crisp said. “Don’t you want to join me?”

“Such an offer, already?” Twist asked. “We barely met.”

That wasn’t an offer. The voice rung inside of Twist’s head, destroying the last traces of resistance. From now on, you’ll listen to me. Simple as that.

Twist relaxed, her vision blurring. “Yes, master.”

Now, you’re also mine, kid, Cranberry Crips thought, getting inside of Dinky’s mind without any trouble. She made a mental equivalent of looking around and almost sighed in disappointment. After the mind of Twist, which was like a big, crowded town, minds of Sunny and Peachy, baffling her with their bizarre, non-Euclidan symmetry, and a postapocalyptic junkyard filling Tootsie’s head, this one was strangely small. It could be compared to a cosy, yet boring village.

Cranberry Crisp felt shiver running down her spine. Something about the village of Dinky’s mind was just plain wrong. It wasn’t that inherent creepiness of an ancient mechanism that was still running, like in case of Peachy and Sunny. It was that feeling one has when they’re in a dark, unfamiliar corridor and hear a lone foal’s cry right behind their backs. Cranberry Crisp scanned all the parts of Dinky’s brain, looking for the Wicker Mare.

“Excuse me,” someone said in a deep voice. Cranberry Crisp shuddered and turned around quickly to see… something. Due to the limitations of her mind-controlling abilities, she couldn’t exactly see everything going on in her victim’s head. It was just a mental suggestion of an old-fashioned plaid suit and a yellow turtleneck, slightly smelling of potatoes.

“Who are you?” Cranberry Crisp asked, throwing nervous mental glances around. “What are you doing in this mind?”

“I would like to ask you the same question, my friend.” There was something in that voice – a subtle hint of green fields outside Trottingham, bathed in the sunlight and gentle breeze. It didn’t soothe Cranberry’s nerves in the slightest. “What are you doing in my mind?”

“Your… what?” Cranberry’s eyes widened. “You don’t seem like that kid whose mind I entered. Unless you suddenly developed an accent.” She smirked. “Anyway, get lost. It’s my mind now.”

“Well, it’s not exactly my mind.” The voice suddenly rang on the other side of Cranberry Crisp. “The host of this lovely place is actually little Dinky.”

“Hello!” Dinky exclaimed, making Cranberry flinch and backpedal. “Nice to meet you!”

“However,” the voice continued, “I have no mind on my own, so once I came to this place, Dinky’s mind also became mine… We’re two souls in one body, if you subscribe to Haycartes’ idea of dualism… You know, he also invented a funny useful spell, but that’s not what’s important right now.”

“Don’t try to charm me with your eloquence,” Cranberry Crisp replied. “Now I’m the master of this mind and I kindly request–” She bit her tongue. “I want you to get out!”

What she heard was a metaphysical equivalent of a chuckle. “Oh, you may not hold my loquacity in a great favour, but even you cannot be unaware of the effect it has on you. I can see that your special talent is making children do what you want… by magical or mundane means. However, a talent is just… a talent.”

“What do you mean by such a statement?” Cranberry Crisp asked. “It is my special talent, which means I am superior in performing this kind of–”

“But outside of that, you’re just a pony.” The voice chuckled. “Me? I wouldn’t exist without my ability to possess minds, such as this youngling here. Ponies were born to do various things. I was designed to do just that. Let me introduce you to something far more superior than your puny tricks…”

The mental walls collapsed on Cranberry Crisp’s head. She screamed, falling on her non-existent knees and trying to rub her temples, only to find that there was nothing there, because she was still in the middle of that strange mind, which was rejecting her and holding her, all at the same time.

“Tubby, no!” Dinky’s voice tore through the layers of the mind. Cranberry gasped, feeling her lungs filling with air again. “Leave her alone.”

“She was trying to make you her slave,” Tubby replied. “I’m inclined to disagree with you, as far as sparing her is concerned.”

“Remember it’s still me who is in control of this body,” Dinky said. “I came close to letting you take it over… But I don’t think this would be a good idea. Not after seeing this.”

“You’ll regret this,” Tubby replied. “I can see the insides of her thick skull. If she can’t control us, she’ll try to shoot us.”

“I’ll give her a chance.” Dinky looked at Cranberry Crisp who was trying to hide in her own mind.

“I won’t.” Tubby’s voice sounded like two metal bars hitting each other.

“I’d like to remind you that it’s still my body and my mind,” Dinky said. “If I ever want to grow leaves, I’ll tell you. Remember what you told me about cells? Most of them are mine.”

“Not fair,” Tubby muttered. “I’m just a potato.”

“Umm… Excuse me…” Cranberry Crisp raised her mental hoof. “I guess I’ll just give you two time to, like, settle this between–”

“Go to hell!” Dinky and Tubby yelled simultaneously. It felt like a slap to her face, knocking her out of Dinky’s mind, into the cold, harsh reality. Cranberry staggered, trying to get her bearings.

“This… is… hell…” she whispered to herself. She saw an abandoned gun lying on the floor and levitated it, looking for Dinky.

The shot echoed through the room.

“Not… cool…” Cranberry whispered, feeling pain spreading from her chest. She collapsed and fell through the hole in the floor with a sickening crunch.

Bon Bon blew the smoke from the shotgun’s barrel and pulled the forend. A spent case bounced off the floor a few times, making what seemed like the loudest sound in the universe.

“Not cool, indeed,” Carrot Top said. “Couldn’t you, like, warn her?”

“What for?” Bon Bon asked. “She was about to shoot that kid.”

A loud groan came from the hole in the floor. Bon Bon saw some of the fillies in front of her blink and slowly wake up, hearing it.

“And what’s worse, you missed,” Carrot Top muttered. “I keep telling you the heart is not as far to the left as you imagine.”

“It was a rubber bullet, you moron.” Bon Bon sighed. “Listen, Golden, I woke you up, which is already against the rules. We both, despite being made redundant, intervened without the council’s approval. As a result, we have only a few hours to repair all the damage and neuralise about…” She made a quick count. “Thirty kids. And maybe everyone in town, just to be sure. Oh, and your ‘kids’ are both runaways from the lab and I’m pretty sure the lab guys would like to find their lost P0T4T0 chip, which happens to be here.” She pointed at Dinky. “I’m pretty sure the cleaning team is already on the way.”

“So?” Carrot Top furrowed her eyebrows. “I can’t see the connection.”

“When they come here, we have to give them something, or they’ll feed us to the lab rats,” Bon Bon replied. “And those are pretty large rats, you know.” She looked at Tagalong, who just stood up, rubbing her head. “From what I’ve read in my sister’s notes, this kid is potentially an Euclid-class anomaly, but I’d rather not give her to dr. Moondancer…”

“So you’re gonna give them Cranberry Crisp…” Carrot Top nodded. “That’s still low.”

“Better than giving them a kid.” Bon Bon pulled out a magic blocker – a metal ring with pink fur on it. “It’s Lyra’s,” she muttered, seeing the glance Carrot Top was giving her. She then trotted to the hole in the floor and looked down. “I have an offer for you.”

“And I have a broken rib and at least one leg,” Cranberry Crisp replied. “Would you kindly hurry?”

“You’ll be given a comfortable room in an underground facility, where you’ll stay, meeting various nice ponies with test tubes and counters that go ‘beep’ when you least expect it. There, they’ll keep you in case a pony who can control large groups of foals is needed. How does that sound to you?”

It took Cranberry Crisp a while to answer. “What are the other options?”

“If you have a good lawyer, twenty-five years in prison for attempted, illegal spellcasting, mind-controlling a minor, and betraying the ideals of the filly scouts of Equestria. Five mares in a cell, some of whom may have uniform fetish.”

“What is uniform fetish?” one of the filly scouts asked. They were currently herded together by Carrot Top, Sunny Daze, and Peachy Pie.

“You’ll see in a few years.” Bon Bon turned back to the hole in the floor. “So, which option do you choose?”

“I’ll fulfill my patriotic duty and choose that underground facility,” Cranberry Crisp replied. “Just get me outta here and, dunno, call a doctor?”

“Clever girl.” Bon Bon took a grappling hook and lowered herself to Cranberry Crisp.

On the other side of the room, Carrot Top looked at the filly scouts gathered together. Tootsie sat by her side, giving nasty glances to Caramel deLite, who wrapped her hoof around Rah Rah Raisin.

“Okay, girls.” Carrot Top smiled, sweating a bit. “Let’s play a game.” She grabbed a silver, pen-like device and raised it. “Take a look here…” She clicked the button on the device. For a moment, the fillies were engulfed in bright light and after it disappeared, they stood still.

“There,” Carrot Top muttered. “This whole thing with guns and stuff never happened and you all just had a lovely trip to the forest, which explains all those cuts, bruises, and what looks like an open fracture. After the trip, you had a sleepover here. Oh, and your scoutmaster, Cranberry Crisp, never existed. I was your scoutmaster all the time.”

“Yeah.” Tootsie Flute pointed Caramel deLite and Rah Rah Raisin. “Ya should hug ‘er more. And ya should get a speech therapist. It does wonders, just look at Twist. Oh, and ya ain’t wanna kill no one anymore.”

“Tootsie!” Carrot Top exclaimed. “You can’t use it to alter somepony’s personality!”

“I just saved some potent orphanage from bein’ burnt,” Tootsie muttered.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘potential’,” Twist said. She had removed part of her armour and was now examining the wires carefully. “Also, we’re gonna get zapped too anyway.”

“You’re not gonna get zapped,” Bon Bon said, emerging from the hole in the floor, holding Cranberry Crisp. “But since the cleaning crew is about to arrive, you’d better act as if you were.”

“Why?” Tootsie asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” Bon Bon replied.

“‘Ave ya zapped me before?”

“Umm…” Bon Bon thought of a warm, summer day a few years before, when little Tootsie stormed her and Lyra’s bedroom without knocking and learned (for a few minutes) about some creative uses of a toothbrush. “Of course not!”

“I can hear someone’s coming,” Carrot Top said. “I guess it’s the cleaning crew.”

The door opened. “We’re here to save you!” Button exclaimed, jumping inside. Nursery trotted behind him and froze, seeing Bon Bon.

“Of course,” Bon Bon muttered. “Twist, Tootsie, and now you. Though you’ll at least be useful.” She pointed at the filly scout with what looked like an open fracture. “Fix that kid’s leg.”

“How about me?” Button asked, lowering his head, partially to cover the fact that upon seeing the open fracture, his stomach petitioned for the immediate removal of its contents.

“Think of something to fix that hole in the floor,” Bon Bon replied. “Also, Dinky and this kid…”

“Ginger Snap,” Tagalong replied. “Though I prefer Tagalong.”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “Okay. Dinky and Ginger Snap, get out. If I could recognise you as anomalies, the cleaning guys will do that too. Sunny, Peachy, make sure they get home. You two are also on the agency’s list. Tootsie, go home and wait for me there.”

Tootsie gulped. “I’m grounded, innit?”

“For at least two hundred years,” Bon Bon replied. “And as for Twist and Nursery, I believe we’ll need to have a talk with Mom…”

Twist froze. “Anything but that…”

“Should I talk to our granny, then?”

Twist shuddered. “Mom seems fine, then.”

“Good.” Bon Bon smiled. “Now, move faster. We don’t have much time to cover all that…”

The first rays of the rising sun fell through the window of the filly scouts’ clubhouse. Caramel deLite stretched her limbs and sat on the mattress. The floor looked much newer than the day before, but Caramel didn’t pay attention to that. She looked around and spotted Rah Rah Raisin, who was sitting by the wall, hiding her face in her hooves.

“Ca va?” Caramel deLite asked, trotting to her friend.

“I… I h-had a b-bad d-dream,” Rah Rah Raisin replied. Caramel deLite sat next to her and wrapped her hoof around her in a protective gesture.

“But it was just a dream, no?” Caramel deLite looked at some object jammed between two floorboards. It was a spent 0.45 casing, but neither of the fillies knew what was its purpose or how it’d gotten there.

“Y-yeah,” Rah Rah Raisin relaxed in her friend’s hooves and leaned her head against Caramel’s shoulder. “D-do you th-think I should g-get a speech th-therapy?”

“I like you even without it, my petit chou fleur,” Caramel deLite replied. “But if you want, go with it.”

“I will,” Rah Rah Raisin whispered, yawning. Caramel deLite patted her mane and looked at the rising sun.

Author's Note

Trivia 1: What happened in Vanhoover is still classified, but it took Bon Bon and Carrot Top weeks to get maple syrup out of their coats.
Trivia 2: Potato-based chips were the first of Project Uberpferd's ideas to create supersoldiers. This particular branch was closed after misplacing the only prototype (also, everyone was sick of creator's naming convention). The funds were then invested in cloning, telepathy research, and growing peaches.
Trivia 3: You don't want to meet the mother of Twist, Nursery, and Bon Bon when she's angry. No, you really don't.
Trivia 4: Caramel deLite became a filly scout because they didn't want her in the Prench Foreign Legion. She hardly noticed a difference.

Issue 10: Happy End!

Tootsie opened the door quietly and walked into the house. Lyra was sleeping on the couch, snoring. Tootsie sneaked past her and trotted into the kitchen. She winced – it seemed like something had died there.

The explanation could be found on the fridge. Tootsie looked at the yellow sticky note and smirked, reading Lyra’s haste hoofwriting.

Dear Bonnie,

I tried to make a dinner. Chili was mostly fine. Don’t look into the sink, please.

Love u,
Lyra

Tootsie shrugged and walked upstairs, to her room. She took off her costume and lay on the bed, sighing. Bon Bon could be back in any minute and Tootsie wasn’t sure what to expect from her. She rested her head on the pillow and looked at the ceiling.

Bon Bon knew. But Tootsie also knew that the pony she considered the more boring of her two mothers was apparently a secret agent or something of that kind. Could they swear to each other that they’d forget about it and move on?

Tootsie recalled a time when she was eavesdropping on the headmaster of her orphanage. She always knew that “Let’s give those two freaks Tootsie, she’ll do just fine.” uttered while reading the results of psychological tests didn’t mean anything good, but only now she realised what he meant.

“Tootsie?”

Tootsie gasped, opening her eyes and realising that she had fallen asleep. She turned on her bed to see Bon Bon. She wasn’t wearing the bulletproof costume or any weapons anymore, but her expression suggested that Tootsie was in trouble.

“Get up,” Bon Bon said. “We have to go.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see,” Bon Bon replied. “Take your costume with you.”

They trotted downstairs, where Lyra was still sleeping on the couch, drooling slightly. Tootsie looked at her, hoping that Lyra would wake up, but apparently a fight with feral chili left her so exhausted that even the incoming herd of yaks wouldn’t manage to do so.

Bon Bon led Tootsie to the basement. “Don’t worry,” she muttered.

“I watched too many horror movies to stop worryin’,” Tootsie replied. “Lyra let me watch ‘em,” she added, seeing Bon Bon’s expression.

“I’ll have to talk to her about that once I’m done with you,” Bon Bon replied, walking through the part of the basement scattered with various things Lyra, Bon Bon, and Tootsie didn’t need anymore, but didn’t want to throw them away either. Bon Bon walked to the shelf by the wall and lifted a jar of pickled cucumbers.

The shelf moved away, revealing an entrance to another part of the basement. Tootsie’s eyes widened: it was stacked with racks full of weapons, ponyequinns with various kinds of armour, and endless shelves of maps and gadgets Tootsie didn’t know; a large map of Equestria was hanging on the wall, pins stuck in seemingly random places.

“Wow…” Tootsie whispered. “Where did ya get all dat stuff?”

“Oh, various places,” Bon Bon muttered, grabbing a richly-ornamented dagger and sighing. “I got this one from my first marefriend.”

“And what happened to ‘er?” Tootsie asked.

Bon Bon spun the dagger and pierced the nearby shelf with it. “Long story.” She lowered her head. “Anyway… For starters, you’re a moron. You have some good ideas, but you’ll need a lot of training. Not to mention your absolute lack of tactical skills, finesse, and–”

“T-trainin’?” Tootsie raised her eyebrows.

Bon Bon patted Tootsie’s back. “You want to be a superhero. I get it. But if you want to be a superhero, you need to be a good one.” She took Tootsie’s torn outfit and looked at it. “This thing only slows you down and makes you more visible.”

“Well, da outfit is da point of bein’ a superhero, innit?” Tootsie asked.

“Too bright,” Bon Bon said. “You want it to show your patriotism, make a small detail to show that. Dark colours are much better.” She walked to one of the ponyequinns and took a black and grey bulletproof suit off of it. “It should be your size. You can paint a small flag on it, but that’s all I allow.”

“Why do dey even make ‘em filly-sized?” Tootsie asked. “Also, my suit is also bulletproof.”

“And much heavier. Also, look.” Bon Bon took one of the metal plates out of Tootsie’s old suit and grabbed a small gun from the rack. She threw a plate in the air and shot at it. The bullet hit the piece of metal and pierced it clean, bouncing off the ceiling and falling on the ground in the distant part of the basement.

“That was one of the weakest guns I have here,” Bon Bon said, lifting the plate. “Imagine what’d happen if one of those kids shot you.”

“Bloody hell,” Tootsie muttered.

“Indeed,” Bon Bon said. “On a side note, you hardly use your potential. Like, you’re a unicorn and you beat ponies up with a lead pipe? You shouldn’t let them come close; you’re not fast enough for them. Also, I’ve heard about that history with Silver Spoon’s mansion. You’re good with disguising yourself, changing your voice… And yet all you could come up with to defeat those filly scouts was a frontal attack.”

“It worked,” Tootsie muttered.

“Till you met Cranberry Crisp who changed your head into a jar of jelly,” Bon Bon replied. “You should train not only your body, but also your mind to be able to fend off all kinds of psychic or magical attacks directed at you.”

“Is dat even possible?” Tootsie asked.

“It is necessary, my fair lady,” Bon Bon said. “Like, how can you think of defeating a Zebrican cockroach without knowing how to ignore its mating call which causes brain damage upon longer exposure…”

“I’m pretty sure I ain’t want to know dat,” Tootsie muttered. “Anyway, what else can ya teach me?”

Bon Bon smirked. “Imagine our living room. How many things in it can you use to kill somepony?”

Tootsie thought for a moment. “One thousand, two hundred sixty four, including mommy Lyra and the room itself.”

Bon Bon nodded, smiling, and patted Tootsie’s mane. “I guess we’ll move on to the second lesson then…”

Twist groaned, kicking the chair and throwing her armour on the table. The room at the top of the tower was full of her scattered equipment, but she didn’t care. She sat on a battered armchair and hid her face in her hooves.

“What’s going on, sis?” Nursery Rhyme asked, walking into the room.

“So much effort…” Twist muttered to herself and grabbed a screwdriver from the table. “And at the end of the day, our least-gifted sister owned us like a bunch of dumb fillies.”

“Umm… Maybe because we are a bunch of dumb fillies?” Nursery Rhyme asked. “Except Button. You know, this armoured carriage is somewhat cramped and I saw that he’s definitely a colt.”

Twist didn’t even turn her gaze away from the open panel of her armour. However, her reply would make Tootsie Flute proud.

“I’d rather not go and do it myself,” Nursery Rhyme replied. “And I think Button doesn’t get it yet. Sadly.”

Twist rolled her eyes and removed some burnt wire from her armour. “Would you kindly go and check if you aren’t on the other side of the town?” She sighed. “I’m currently thinking of my greatest defeat and that I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“Is this why you’re repairing your armour?” Nursery asked.

“Well, somepony else may want to use it.” Twist raised her head. “And currently it’s useless. It needs something to protect the wearer against the psych attacks, it needs a more stable energy source, it needs more power, ability to fly, some cooling system because it’s damn hot inside, more flexible joints, more efficient power consumption, reduced emissions…” The light shone in her glasses. “In fact, I think that the body inside might be an issue. It needs to be fused with the armour permanently and its durability must be increased. The armour has to be controlled by the brainwaves… Do you think my– I mean, someone’s bones can be replaced with something stronger?”

“Err…” Nursery scratched her mane. “I guess it… may be a thing… Do you want the subject to be alive after the whole procedure? And how important is the immunological system to you? Because you know, bone marrow is there and it wouldn’t be wise to remove it. Also, what kind of chip do you want to use? Because the most effective thing I ever put in somepony was a disulfiram implant we injected Berry Punch with subcutaneously.”

“What?” Twist asked. “Can you repeat the last word?”

“It was under her skin,” Nursery replied. “She bit it out after three days.”

“Like, with her teeth?” Twist smirked. “Cool.”

“Yeah. Twenty stitches,” Nursery muttered. “So, when do we give you cybernetic implants?”

Twist smiled, grabbing a piece of her armour and prodding it with a screwdriver. “As soon as possible…”

Button looked at the bottom of his glass and sighed. He knew that he shouldn’t drink so much chocolate milk, but this time there was no alternative. Twist and Nursery were nowhere to be found and Button feared to think about Tootsie’s fate. He shrugged and downed the glass in one go, shuddering at the taste.

“Another one?” Tagalong asked, raising the bottle. She was sitting on Button’s desk, waving her legs in the air.

“No, thanks,” Button muttered. “Mom says I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Okay.” Tagalong shrugged and drank chocolate milk directly from the bottle. “So, what are we gonna do now?”

“Mom baked cookies,” Button said.

Tagalong sighed and took another sip of her chocolate milk. “I meant, what we’re gonna do with that superhero stuff. Like, I actually had friends, who didn’t want to shoot anyone... “ She scratched her mane. “Well, maybe except Tootsie, but…”

“Well, now the other filly scouts should be fine,” Button muttered.

“Yeah, but they don’t know about me,” Tagalong said. “Like, do you know that I once checked how much chocolate milk it takes to kill you?”

Button’s hoof froze over his glass. “How much?”

“I don’t remember, but I remember jumping out of the window because it was quicker and less painful than the side effects of too much chocolate milk.” She shrugged. “But that wasn’t that interesting. Do you want to hear a story of how I hanged myself? It’s not the best idea when you can’t untie it…”

Button downed his chocolate milk and winced. “I think I’ll pass.”

Suddenly, the window of Button’s room opened. He turned to it, feeling cold air entering his bedroom. To his surprise, a couple of vines caught the frame of the window. Soon, Dinky climbed inside and jumped on the floor. She was still wearing her outfit.

“Hello,” Dinky said. “Oh, chocolate milk!”

“Feel free to help yourself,” Button deadpanned.

“I was just telling Button a story of how I hanged myself.” Tagalong smiled. “But he didn’t want to listen.”

“Why would you do that?” Dinky asked, taking a sip of her chocolate milk.

“I saw a colt I liked talking with some other filly.” Tagalong lowered her head. “Took me twenty minutes to die… each time before I managed to reach the rope and free myself.”

Dinky nodded. “And I noticed that I got my first superhero scar when we were fighting those filly scouts.” She lifted her hoof to show a small cut, barely an inch long. “Now I’m gonna be more superheroic than ever.”

“Dunno.” Button shook his head. “The only scar I got was when I slammed my head against my desk while playing The Great Wonderbolts Race/”

Dinky chuckled. “Twist told me that it was because you found out you couldn’t take off the uniform and spend a whole race staring at Spitfire’s–”

“Enough.” Button blushed and looked around the room, searching for something or somepony to help him change the topic. Eventually, his eyes rested on Tagalong. “Hmm, didn’t your parents notice that you hanged yourself?”

“They didn’t really care,” Tagalong replied. “I don’t think they ever noticed that I died.”

“At least they don’t ask questions,” Button said. “What if they sent you to that lab Bon Bon mentioned?”

“I don’t want to think about it.” Tagalong shuddered. “At least they can’t see any scars, because they disappear.”

“There are some on the inside, I guess,” Dinky muttered, poking Tagalong. “You know that I almost let Tubby loose when we fought?”

“What would happen then?” Button asked.

“It wouldn’t be nice,” Dinky replied in monotone. “It wouldn’t be civilised. It would make the four stallions of apocalypse look like little colts.”

“Umm… are you okay?” Button tilted his head and looked at Dinky.

“More or less,” Dinky replied. Tagalong leaned closer to her and hugged her.

“I’ll help you,” Tagalong said. “Could you also help me?”

“Of course.” Dinky nodded.

Suddenly, something silver flew through the window of Button’s room and hit the door of the closet, piercing it almost completely. Button looked at it and raised his eyebrows. A small silver spoon wasn’t telling him anything.

“Spoon again? Who threw it here?” he muttered to himself and picked the spoon up.

“There’s something written here,” Dinky said, pointing at the inside of the sharpened bowl.

Button looked at the text.

Hello,

That stunt you pulled was awesome! Too bad your group got busted... Do you want to join me? I could use some allies and technical support. I can provide experience and almost unlimited funds.

The Silver Spooner

Button scratched his mane. “The Silver Spooner? I saw her once. She’s that weird filly who lives in Silver Spoon’s basement.”

“Are we joining her?” Dinky asked.

Tagalong shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I have anything to risk… We can as well do.”

“I guess Nursery would kill to see that…” Button muttered. “I’m in.”

“Knowing Nursery, I’m afraid she’d do that,” Dinky said. “I don’t know… It’d be bad if Tubby…”

“Maybe that Silver Spooner knows how to stop him?” Tagalong asked, patting Dinky’s mane. “Also, I’ll be with you...”

The match was coming to an end. One of the teams was hopelessly crowded on their half of the pitch and it seemed that not even Rumble could stop Scootaloo from scoring another goal – the ball just seemed glued to her hooves.

Tootsie was standing in her penalty area, watching the action from some distance. She didn’t like to run and the role of a central defender suited her – especially since other kids knew that an ill-advised counterattack could end in a few broken bones.

“What’s going on?” Truffle Shuffle asked. Unlike Tootsie, he couldn’t exactly choose his position – as the fattest foal, he was destined to be a goalkeeper. “You don’t feel like yourself, today.”

“I do?” Tootsie asked.

“You didn’t chase me across the pitch with a stick when Rumble scored a goal,” Truffle Shuffle replied. “And you only punched Shady Daze once.”

“He looked at me,” Tootsie muttered.

“Yes, but usually it would end up in a brawl.” Truffle shrugged. “Something happened?”

“I ain’t slept well,” Tootsie replied, looking at the other half of the pitch, where Scootaloo and Ruby Pinch were fighting in the mud for some reason. Apple Bloom, despite being in one team with Ruby, was circling around them, trying to hit Ruby from behind.

“It never stopped you before,” Truffle replied.

“Wanna get a print of me hoof on yer arse?” Tootsie asked, glaring at him. “Bugger off, mate, if ya wanna live.”

“Like you’d really do that.” Truffle smirked. “You didn’t hit me since the Hearts and Hooves day.”

“I always can do dat again…” Tootsie walked closer to Truffle, who backpedalled.

“But seriously, what’s going on?” Truffle asked. “I’m trying to help.”

“You’re tryin’ to get buried in me backyard.” Tootsie lowered her head, aiming her horn at Truffle. “If ya really need to know, I may leave da town soon.”

“What?” Truffle exclaimed. “Did Lyra and Bon Bon–”

“No,” Tootsie replied. “I just decided dat I wanna go to dat school in Manehattan. Y’know, to become a professional florist in a few years. And maybe get some boxing trainin’...”

“So, you’ll finally beat ponies who want it?” Truffle asked. “That’ll be some nice change…”

“If ya ask me nicely, I can break yer jaw.” Tootsie walked away, towards the other side of the pitch. The match came to a definite end; Tootsie’s team won by ten goals, seven bruises, a broken tooth, and some torn hair.

Tootsie, however, didn’t care about that. She sat on the grass, outside of the earshot, and looked at the sky.

“Carrot Top,” she muttered. “I hope ya ‘ave a special place in hell for dat cover story…”

Equestria, the land I love
A land of harmony
Our flag does wave from high above
For ponykind to see

Carrot Top barely suppressed a groan. She looked at the filly scouts gathered in a circle and sighed. Why did I tell them that I’m their new scoutmaster?

The scoutmaster, she corrected herself. They never had another scoutmaster and the pony that walked away with Carrot Top’s former colleagues never existed. She looked at Sunny and Peachy, who seemed pretty uncomfortable singing along with the filly scouts who had every intent to kill them just two days ago.

At least they’re gonna go to Manehattan with Bonnie’s kid, Carrot Top thought. It wouldn’t be safe to leave them here.

“Ms. Top, are you okay?” the littlest filly scout asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Yes, I am,” Carrot Top muttered, barely paying attention to the filly. “I guess you know the second verse?”

“Of course we do!”

Carrot Top sighed. Sometimes, I hate those little–

Equestria, a land of friends
Where ponykind do roam
They say true friendship never ends
Equestria, my home

Author's Note

Trivia: The first version literally had Tagalong stating "my scars are on the inside", but that was 6edgy9me.

Also, what now? Now I'm writing a sequel in which, among other things, Sunny Daze meets some interesting new friends. As for the Ponyville side of things, Bootsy is preparing something, but whenever I ask him when it's ready, he mentions something about Red Wedding, rains of Castamere, and killing Starks. Or maybe that was George R.R. Martin, not sure.