Chapter Nineteen: Yo Dawg, I Heard You Like Letters

Spike and the Cutie Mark Crusaders were lucky that their parents knew they were camping out that Sunday night, and that for some reason, despite how much destruction they had caused in their short lives, were trusted enough to sleep together.

How everyone was wrong with giving them that right.

It was nearly noon by the time Spike had decided that waking up would be a relatively decent activity. Relatively decent being the key phrase. His head felt like a flashbang had just been thrown an inch from his muzzle, and all he could taste was the color of agony. As stupidly cool as it was to ponder the universe and his incredible ability to be sexy - and make Rarity wet herself at night at the sheer thought of him posing at her door - all he could think about right now was squeezing the supple, soft, warm flesh that was in his paws. While he more than enough remembered the incredible planning he did last night - or so he thought he did - that clarity of complete, undeniable badflankness had retreated into the corners of his mind once more. Only Rainbow Dash was currently allowed to suckle on that nectar. It ticked him off to no end. At least he had the squishy flesh in his paws.

That powerful and yet sweet coat would take away the misty blindness that clouded his brain. He hoped. It would make the stomach pain from eating too much junk food go away for just one moment; it would make him not feel like pinning down his pet pearl mare, lift up her twirling and sunset shimmering purple tail, and show her that once you ride a dragon, you'll want no other wagon. That wonderful fur that was pulled apart in his claws was a moderately decent substitute for his one and only love, or the warmness of his sister's kindness, the swag of Rainbow, and dare he admit it, the comfort of a book. It might also get rid of the part of him he didn't want exposed between his legs, exposed to an underage group of preteens. At least he had his peace, or as much peace as he could have for the moment, baring giving Rarity a layer of dragon salt.

The incredibly loud and vile hellfire of flatulence that resulted from his squeezing of Applebloom's sides too many times broke that foggy fantasy. It was also a decontamination chamber for all four occupants in the fort.

Spike and all three of the formerly knocked out fillies shot up from their' slumbers, screaming in confused horror. Where were they? Who were they? What happened last night? Why did their' groins hurt? Why did they feel like puking? Why did they smell like crotch? Where did the night and morning go? Who was Carmen Sandiego?

"I need a bush!" Applebloom yelled, unable to detect the irony of the statement.

"I need to puke!" Spike gagged.

"I need to pee!" Sweetie Belle whined.

"I need to wash my mouth off!" Scootaloo heaved.

All four of them screamed once more, running out of the fort in childish panic to purge their bodies of the ills that plagued them. If only for a few minutes. It was quite hard to push out that much food and illicit chemicals from a body so quickly.

They would give it a damn good try.

"And that's... well... what a penis really is, and what vaginas really are," Spike said. He barked out a sudden laugh. "I can't believe I just talked about this with you three. Well... too late now."

After twenty minutes of composing themselves through bodily purging, and another twenty minutes of Spike giving an excellent example of why he was no longer a baby, the four occupants of the fort were as normal as they could be wasted off of the THC overload they had last night. They all were contemplating sobbing at the otherworldly experiences going through their heads. At least three of them were fluffy. Fluffy was nice. It kept the gnomes away. That was important.

Spike sat on back, chewing on some wild berries as he looked at the three snuggling foals. Or should he even call them foals anymore? Scootaloo was at the center of attention, having the softest coat of the three. She was curled up in a nearly perfect ball of burgundy fur and moderate purple hair, resting her muzzle on her own tail as her friends half laid on top of her. Sweetie Belle rested on her side, hanging her forehooves over Scootaloo's frame while her snout rested on the pegasus' flank. Applebloom had decided to rest her tail on top of Scootaloo’s and curl around her, laying her muzzle on Scootaloo's upper back. They could all use the bodily support of one another, in a manner different than what they did last night.

“So… that’s why ponies can like and play with each other, even if they’re mares or colts?” Sweetie Belle scratched her horn idly, wincing at the sudden stimulation. “Oww… my horn. Somepony tell me to stop poking at it.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t put two and two together,” Spike continued, “but I thought of it just as a way ponies and animals to have kids. Not… for pleasure.” He let out a shy chuckle, unable to hide the blush that was creeping its way across his cheeks. “As for ponies dating their own gender, I just... I don't know! I guess I never thought of it that way. I just thought of it as love, I guess. It wasn’t until yesterday that I caught Fluttershy and Rarity kissing that-” He blinked several times at his slip of the tongue. “Uhh, opps.”

“My sister was kissing Fluttershy?” Sweetie Belle gasped, “that makes so much sense that they are marefriends! They go to the spa together, and gossip, and are with each other all the time. It-”

“They aren’t dating,” Spike said, waving a hand at the statement. “They just… got a bit excited from something. I don’t know what exactly, but when I came in on them to say the four of us were having a sleepover, there they were. Just... on the floor. Kissing. I had to break them up from a fight they got into afterwards, and they realized it just wasn’t going to work like that.”

Scootaloo shook her head. “Man, do ponies go that nuts just to get laid? I thought what we did was extreme. I don’t even want to think about what they’ve done and haven’t told us about. I mean it was fun and all, but you’d think they would've grow up or something. They're adults, not kids. Sheesh.” She blinked rapidly at the words settling in the air. "I... can't believe I just said that."

“I mean really," Applebloom said, "we’re just curious ‘n all, and we didn't quite get those books until you explained it, Spike, but gee willikers, if our sisters go crazy like that, who are they to tell us we went too far?” Applebloom blew out a small huff of air from the end of her nose. “I’m sure they've done somethin’ weird ‘n crazy too. If not a billion, zillion times! And they call us ‘immature’. Just a bunch of bigots if you ask me.”

“Let’s not think about what our sisters did last night,” Sweetie Belle moaned tiredly, rubbing her nose into Scootaloo’s leg. “Or what we did. I don’t think I say this much, but I think that was a experiment we aren't trying again. I’m not even sure if I’m seeing colors or smells. It was amazing, but... not worth this.”

“If you put your nose a hoof lower, Sweetie Belle, I don’t know what I’m going to do to you,” Scootaloo rumbled. “All I remember, is you put your horn there in the middle of the night when we all woke up, and it feels like gravity is hating me down there right now.”

Applebloom’s cheeks quickly matched the red of the apples her family famously grew. “A-a-about that, maybe we should keep this a secret. A real secret. A Pinkie Pie Promise, Cutie Mark Death Pact secret. Not the knowin’ about sex part, ‘cause that’s a bargainin’ chip we can use, but that… uhh…”

Sweetie Belle crossed a forehoof over her chest. "You don't have to say that twice, Applebloom. Death Pact of Baal sealed."

"Sealed," Scootaloo swore, crossing her own chest.

Spike couldn't help but feel himself smirk. “Four of them already know."

All three of the Crusaders shot up as one, their legs quivering in fear and in the sudden realization they were required to support weight they weren’t keen on supporting.

“My sister’s gonna put me in a chain gang!” Applebloom cried. “And she’ll make me sing baritone labor songs. I can’t sing baritone!”

“Rarity will make me watch marathons of Flip This House until I’m a real estate agent,” Sweetie Belle whimpered. “Do you have any idea how boring it is to listen about kitchens for hours? And that’s coming from a future cook!”

“And Rainbow will-” Scootaloo paused, her quaking hooves standing firm as she pondered, looking at the ground in reflection. “Will… I have no idea what she’ll do. Most likely she’ll just explain everything again and tell me to be safe, that I’m really young, and that if I have any questions, I should come to her. She tends to be pretty chill in extreme moments like that.”

“That doesn’t help us!” the other two crusaders screamed.

“Well it helps me,” Scootaloo countered, sticking out her tongue.

“I mean,” Spike chuckled, “that they thought you would have sex. Rarity and Fluttershy told me to stop you and get the anatomy books, but you already took them. Twilight and Dash gave me what I threw in here to knock you all out. Well… us, since it worked on me too. I think I’ll make a note not to use that again.”

Sweetie Belle stepped forward, her eyes staring into the sparkling emeralds of the dragon. “Speaking of that. What was that? Now we’re all tipsy and it made us see things that exist, like underpants gnomes.”

“What’s underpants?” Scootaloo asked, scratching the back of her head with a wing. “M-m-maybe I don’t wanna know, since that just makes my crotch itch more. Oww.”

Applebloom scratched her bow. “And what’s a gnome?Ohh! Remember that thing with the beard tellin’ us to go to Brayzil, and we could get an airship flight for a really good price? Now I remember. That’s a gnome.”

All three of the Crusaders nodded in agreement, Spike dragging his talons across his skull to numb the throbbing in his head. “It’s something used to knock ponies out if they are being really wild; I just used too much of it, and oh man, I think the only reason I’m not seeing Rarity everywhere is because I’m a dragon, so naturally I’m pretty much immune to everything.”

“Spike,” Sweetie Belle began, resting a forehoof on his chest, “we get it. You have a crush on my sister. Everypony knows. Even we know. We knew years ago.”

Spike's snout turned crimson. “N-n-no I-”

“You wanna tie her up on a fence ‘n play fiddle with her foal maker,” Applebloom grinned, taking a step forward toward Spike.

He sat up, clawing at the fort floor in panic. “Where did you-”

“You wanna find creative uses for premium pegasus ice on her!” Scootaloo cackled, stalking toward Spike.

“I don’t-”

“You want to put her in a corset and have her dance on stage like a can-can girl!” Sweetie Belle tittered. The Crusaders had surrounded Spike, pincering Spike in.

It was too much. “Fine!” Spike spat, staring down Sweetie Belle. “I want to have sex with your sister, Sweetie Belle. You have a problem with that!?”

Sweetie Belle's ears withered under the assault. “I d-don’t want to think about it,” she said.

Spike inhaled and exhaled from the depths of his stomach, smoke swirling in the air above him. “Look,” he said flatly, “you three are nice and all, and are really fun to hang around, but I was sent here to stop you, and because I wanted to get out of the library. I didn’t think I’d be dragged into this, and you all had fun while I just got the food. Not that… the food was bad or anything.” His green eyes closed in contemplation, tapping a foot on the ground. “So here’s the deal: sure, we both learned a lot today, but it’s going to bite both our butts in the future. Let’s just chill, we’ll pretend you all didn’t… do anything illegal, we’ll all be friends, and-”

“S-s-sex can’t be illegal,” Scootaloo stuttered. “Because-”

“Do I look like a lawyer to you?” Spike said. “Rainbow and Twilight said what you three did was illegal, and I’m not going to argue with Twilight about the law.”

Scootaloo scoffed at the ground. “Don’t have to be a prick about it. Sheesh.”

“I’m the only one here who didn’t get laid,” Spike huffed, “and it’s not like I’d do it with you three.”

“Hey!” the Crusaders’ said together.

"You're just jealous cause I got a horn and it didn't go inside you!" Sweetie Belle snapped.

Applebloom raised a forehoof, turning her head to look at her friend. "Umm... he doesn't have what we got. And you can't cast spells yet anyways."

"But he's got a butthole!" Scootaloo's wings buzzed excitedly. "I've heard Rainbow talk about it when I stalk her. You can totally put things up there. I haven't tried, cause... uhh... I don't know how."

Both of the other Crusaders stuck out their tongues. "Gross."

"Is not gross!" Scootaloo' growled quietly.

"Poop comes from there!" Applebloom gagged.

"Ever since sexual diseases were cured by Sterile Santorum in 345 A.D," Spike retorted, crossing his arms,  "that shouldn't be a concern. More so with modern pony hygiene."

All three of the Crusaders blinked their eyes in unison, processing the information that was given to them. "What are you an encyclopedia?" they said as one.

Spike shrugged casually. “See? Can't handle my intellect. Not my types.”

Scootaloo's wings flickered rapidly in anger as she pressed her nose into Spike’s, staring him down with her eyes. “You ate our food and knocked us out,” she growled. “That has to be illegal. Food stealing and… assault! Type that!”

“Yeah!” Sweetie Belle and Applebloom chimed.

“I’m not going to argue with you,” he growled. “Because if I do, my head is going to hurt even more, and the last thing I want to do is have to explain to Applejack and Rarity why you all are well done ponies.” The Crusaders rubbed their own muzzles at the mention of head pain, letting out a collective whimper not meant for mortal ears.

Thankfully, Spike was borderline immortal, so he was borderline immune. “Look," he said quietly, "you three are going to go home, we’re not going to bring this up again, and I’ll explain to Applejack that you’re just really tired after all that fun, Applebloom.”

Applebloom mumbled vulgarities she had heard from Applejack. Applejack would've been proud. Secretly. “Fine, but I have a feelin’ yer plannin’ somethin’ and I don’t like it. We can black mail you too, you know.”

“He has to be,” Scootaloo huffed, turning her snout, “if he was petting me like I’m his cat."

She shuffled in place, swallowing down a ball of saliva. A large blush began to fill out her muzzle. "Not that I… want you to stop doing that, Spike.” Spike’s talons reached out to scratch through Scootaloo's mane and neck, resulting in the pegasus nuzzling into Spike's hand.

“You are so weird, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said, shaking her muzzle. “And that’s coming from me!”

Spike grinned evilly. There was an advantage to being two years older than the Crusaders, and the younger brother of a genius strategist. Twilight’s lectures on classical military tactics were interesting to him. Oh so interesting. “Just a future favor, when I think of it,” he said. “Beside's, Twilight and Rainbow gave me permission to eat your food. You know, revenge stealing." The Crusaders ears folded in one slow wave.

His grin began to crack, a gentle blush tracing itself over his muzzle. "But until then... I think I need about fifteen minutes behind a tree a mile from here.”

“What for?” Sweetie Belle asked, tilting her snout to the side. “Scratching post?”

“That’s Cataloo’s job,” Applebloom giggled.

Scootaloo hissed at Applebloom. “You’re the one who exploded from your butthole, Applebelch.”

“What does that have to do with cats?” Sweetie Belle blinked.

Spike was about to ponder how even the potent cannabis of Fluttershy’s highest grade weed couldn’t keep the Crusaders’ down for long, and what thoughts would occupy him a mile away from the fort, before he felt the familiar rumbling of an incoming letter in his gut. His trademark belch propelled the rolled scroll into the air, catching the sealed parchment with trained precision, and dare he admit it, a faint skip in his step.

Sure, he wanted to sleep for several days, and needed to furiously do repressed acts of teen rage on a tree, but at least he could open a letter that was surely from Twilight, asking him of how it all went, and about the future talk they would have. He was looking forward to that talk. He had many questions, and was sure he would get many answers. Adulthood, was going to be amazing.

He quickly opened the scroll, draconic eyes scanning over the words, until he felt the very core of his soul holler in despair. His life, was ruined.

"Spike?" Applebloom asked softly. "Are... are you okay? You're legs are shakin', and you look... pale."

Quickly he reread the message a second time. He did it again. And again.

His lips quivered, then pouted, and then, Spike screamed.

He didn't scream his classical shout of death defying no.

He screamed a four letter word that wasn't the ponyfied, although still moderately firm curse. He screamed it in it's all powerful, all unedited glory, at the very top of his lungs.