Chapters

In Which Blueblood has Breakfast
In Which a Scheme is Hatched
In Which Things Get Very Strange
In Which a Big Brouhaha Ensues
In Which This Story Ends

In Which Blueblood has Breakfast
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Blueblood's Big Bad Bloody Brilliant Brouhaha

In Which Blueblood has Breakfast

It was a lovely morning in Canterlot.

This was hardly a surprise. It was always a lovely morning in Canterlot. After all, the pony responsible for making the morning lived there, so it was only to be expected.

Said pony, the one and only Princess Celestia, was currently sitting down for breakfast with the rest of the Royal Family in the castle breakfast room, which only made sense, because where else would you eat breakfast but in a breakfast room? (Unless you were eating it in bed, I suppose. Celestia usually didn’t. It made a mess of the sheets, after all, and they were usually a mess already considering what she usually got up to in there.) Said Royal Family included her beloved sister, Princess Luna, the newly minted Princess Twilight, the chaos god Discord who as yet had been unable to find a title that both he and Celestia could agree on (he really didn’t understand what the problem with being called Most Badass Sexy Poobah of Chaos In The Entire Universe Who Is Better Than Princess Celestia In Every Way And Knows Exactly What To Do To Make Her Squeal Like A Schoolfilly was), and several dozen mortal Princes and lesser Princesses who are unimportant to this narrative but rest assured, they exist, and have their own detailed lives and personalities and backstories and are complex ponies in their own right but are by and large irrelevant to this story and are only mentioned to assure you that they were, in fact, present in the breakfast room at that particular moment, and serve no other purpose. (There were certain critics of the government who claimed that these mortal royals did not, in fact, serve any purpose whatsoever other than to walk around and look pretty. They weren’t entirely wrong.)

The banal chatter of ponies asking each other whether they’d slept well, asking for seconds from servers, discussing the news, gossiping about each other, and plotting to overthrow the diarchy was interrupted when an armored Pegasus herald entered the room and shouted, “Now announcing His Royal Highness Prince Blueblood and Her Royal Highness Princess Crackle!”

The Pegasus then stepped aside, allowing two extremely mismatched individuals to enter the room. One was an incredibly handsome white-coated blond-maned blue-eyed Unicorn stallion, Prince Blueblood, heir of the ancient line of Platinum (actually he was descended from a pooper-scooper that had just happened to live in Platinum’s household and her real heir was an up-and-coming fashionista in a small town out in the country, but Celestia saw no reason to tell him that), favored nephew of Princess Celestia (actually that was Prince Charming, but Celestia saw no reason to tell him that), and Faust’s gift to mares (completely untrue, most of the mares he’d been with had to be paid exorbitant fees ahead of time and didn’t enjoy it very much, but Celestia…oh, you get the point.). Beside him was his wife, the love…the beaut…the majest…the plai…er, the unique Princess Crackle, a large eight-legged green dragon with tiny wings, purple horns, gems embedded in her scales, a forked tongue dangling from one side of her mouth, and big red eyes that seemed to be capable of looking at two different things at once, and while in certain gray Pegasus mailmares that sort of thing was endearing, for Crackle it just…wasn’t. Not in the slightest.

Heads turned and chairs screeched against the floor as the members of the Royal Family stared at Blueblood and Crackle as they walked past on their way to the end of the very, very long table everyone was seated at where Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Princess Twilight, and Discord were waiting. Sensing their stares, Blueblood smiled smugly and puffed out his chest, certain that they were struck with awe and jealousy at how handsome he looked, especially in juxtaposition to the…dragon waddling next to him, not seeming to know where she was going, her tail wagging behind her and nearly knocking over servants too slow to get out of her way. Look as much as they liked, for that was as close as they would ever come to the physical perfection and sheer masculinity that he possessed! Why, even his aunts and Princess Twilight and Discord were in awe of…wait, something about that didn’t seem right…he knew his Alicorn relatives all had rather voracious…appetites, but none of them had ever expressed any interest in members of their own family before. Not that he’d mind if they did—incest was wincest, after all, and his aunts were very attractive mares—but something about the idea of them being attracted to him seemed oddly disturbing. And he’d thought Twilight was completely committed to those boorish peasant friends of hers, which he’d always considered a shame, because he honestly believed she could do so much better than them. (Namely, himself.) And Discord…

Well, nobody really understood what drove that twisted creature or turned him on. Yes, he was most definitely sharing his dear Auntie’s bed, but was that because he was into that or because he just thought it would be fun? Nobody could say for certain. “Good morning, all. Is, er, there something on my face?” Blueblood asked in concern as he took his seat on Princess Twilight’s right side. Crackle didn’t sit next to him so much as slam the upper third of her body onto the table, causing all the place settings to rattle, while splaying the rest of her legs out beneath her, her tail smacking the ground repeatedly hard enough to crack it, much to the servants’ dismay.

“Yes,” said a disturbed Princess Luna as she slowly put down her coffee mug and stared at her nephew in horror, the dark blue Alicorn’s starry mane messy and her eyes bleary and bloodshot from another long night of holding court (i.e. playing competitive online games into the wee hours of the morning).

“Nephew, you are covered in scratches!” said the shocked Princess Celestia, whose alabaster coat and wavy multicolored mane, in contrast to her sister, somehow always managed to look absolutely perfect no matter what the situation, including just rolling around in mud or finishing a several-hour marathon. (A marathon of what, precisely, I will leave to the imagination.) “Very large scratches, at that!”

“Oh, these,” Blueblood said dismissively, glancing at the rather large gashes covering his face and much of his body. Some of them were still bleeding. “I’d forgotten about those.”

“What happened?! Did…did Crackle…” Twilight looked nervously at the princess currently drooling on the tablecloth, the lavender Alicorn noticing that the gashes all over Blueblood’s body looked like they could have been inflicted by a dragon’s claws.

“Oooh, didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Princey!” Discord, who was currently balancing sideways on one horn on top of Princess Luna’s horn while eating a newspaper and reading buttered toast through big Groucho Marx glasses with a bunny slipper on his lion paw, a brick over his eagle talon, rubber duckies strapped to his feet, and a bathrobe wrapped around his body backwards and upside-down, said gleefully. The chimerical mishmash of animal parts paused, then frowned and put his toast down on Luna’s nose while giving Blueblood an oddly serious look. “Well, unless you’re being domestically abused, in which case it’s not even remotely funny. Spousal abuse is completely unacceptable and unfunny, no matter which gender the abuser is.”

“What? No!” Blueblood said in shock. “Crackle doesn’t…we’re not into that sort of thing! And besides, I had her claws removed when she started tearing up the furniture.” Not that that stopped her from teething on it, though…or marking her territory.

“Ohhhhh,” everyone said in relief.

“Although that begs the question of what you and Crackle are into-“ Discord started.

Thankfully, Twilight interjected before anyone could think about that question too much. “But then, ah, how did you get those scratches, Blueblood?”

“…Shaving accident,” Blueblood said, looking completely embarrassed.

Everyone stared at him. “…I beg your pardon?” Luna asked after a moment.

“Shaving accident,” Blueblood repeated a little louder, face turning red, and not just because of the blood dripping from his cuts. “My, uh, shaving attendant quit the other day for no reason whatsoever and certainly not because I started throwing bottles of conditioner at her and screaming insults on her skills and heritage because my trim was hideously uneven, and the replacement hasn’t come in yet, so I figured, ‘it can’t be that hard, uneducated peasants can do it after all,’ and tried it for myself, and you, ah, can see the results.”

“But…you’ve cut yourself in other places aside from your face,” Twilight said in confusion.

“I’m not very good at shaving,” Blueblood said miserably.

Everyone facehooved. A few of the lesser royals began to snicker, much to the Prince’s chagrin. Even Aunt Luna looked like she was having trouble keeping from laughing. Discord had no such problem and burst into raucous laughter, pointing at Blueblood and guffawing while wriggling on Luna’s horn. Celestia sighed. “Oh, Blueblood…”

The resignation, embarrassment, pity, and disappointment in those two words, which he seemed to hear several times a day from one or both of his aunts, his parents, his so-called friends and fellow nobles, the press, many of his past lovers/one-night stands (which was invariably what all of them except for Crackle had turned out to be), and his therapist set his nerves on edge and caused his teeth to start grinding, which would probably cause his dentist to say it too. He bet that Fancypants never felt like that. Whenever someone said, “Oh, Fancypants!” there was praise, pride, happiness, relief, and arousal from both mares and stallions behind it. Why couldn’t anyone ever sound like that when saying, “Oh, Blueblood?” What did Fancypants have that he didn’t? Well, aside from popularity, lots of money, a gorgeous fiance, a stylish monocle, an incredibly stallionly moustache, magnificently trimmed hooves and mane, such soft luscious lips, and he should probably stop this line of thought before it started getting weird.

“You didn’t put on bandages? Or go to the infirmary and have some of the staff do it for you?” Twilight asked in alarm.

“I didn’t want to be late for breakfast. I tried bandaging myself, and somehow wound up covering everything in my room but Crackle or myself in gauze, and I…can’t remember where the infirmary is,” Blueblood said lamely.

“…The infirmary is next door to your room. Literally. It’s the next door down,” Twilight said.

Blueblood flushed. “W-well, Discord must have moved it! He probably shifted around the castle interior again, like he did when I got lost on my way to that important diplomatic meeting last week.”

“I didn’t move the castle interior around this morning or last week,” Discord said. (This was only half-true. He hadn’t done any screwing around with the interior this morning, but he certainly had last week, on Celestia’s request, to make sure Blueblood didn’t cause any…problems at the diplomatic meeting. The last time the prince been involved in talks with Zebrica, it had almost created a global war when he rather cluelessly asked what kind of paint the Zebra delegate used to touch up her stripes and wanted to know if it came off in water.)

Celestia sighed. “Did you get lost again, Blueblood?”

“I did not get lost!” Blueblood cried shrilly. “I have a perfect sense of direction!” This was a complete and utter lie. Many would look at Blueblood’s Cutie Mark and assume that he either had some kind of a talent for navigation or leadership since it was a compass. This couldn’t be further from the truth. He’d gotten his Cutie Mark when, as a child, he got lost in the Canterlot Hedge Maze and it took five days for anyone to find him (actually, only two minutes, he was literally like one turn away from the exit the entire time, it took five days for anyone to notice he was gone), and by the time he was rescued he’d eaten his own clothes out of hunger because it had never occurred to him to eat any of the hedges or grass, or rather, it had occurred to him but he refused to eat them because they were outside and covered in dirt and bugs and germs and other things and hadn’t been prepared by a highly-trained chef. “I mean, how else do you think I would have made it here on time?”

“Because your wife smelled the food and you followed her here?” Luna suggested. The dragon in question was currently chewing on the tablecloth while blinking her eyes out of sync.

“…No,” Blueblood lied. “And speaking of food…I am starving! You! Servant! Bring me food!” Blueblood shouted at a nearby server. Crackle made a strangled gurgling noise through the large piece of table she’d just ripped out with her teeth. “Oh, and her too.”

“Yes, Prince Blueblood…” the servant muttered, rolling her eyes and trotting away. She came back a moment later with a covered dish on her back, which she slid onto the place setting before Prince Blueblood with practiced ease. Licking his lips hungrily, Blueblood clumsily tied his napkin around his neck like a bib—he’d never really gotten the hang of knots and usually had other ponies tie them for him--and knocked the cover off the dish…

And stared blankly at the plate of hay and the bowl of oats that were waiting for him. “…What is this? This isn’t breakfast! It doesn’t even look edible!”

“Actually, that’s hay and oats, a basic staple of the pony diet,” Twilight chirped.

“What?! But that’s peasant fare! I am royalty! How dare you serve me such a plebian meal! I should have you fired for this!” Blueblood shouted angrily at the server.

The mare looked back at him coldly, unflinching. “It’s the same dish we’ve served to everyone else this morning, in case you haven’t noticed,” she said, pointing to the plates in front of every other pony in the room, including the Alicorn Princesses, who seemed to have no problem with their meal and were digging in with gusto. Discord didn’t count since he could just make his own food. Or eat whatever he felt like. He did have the stomach of a goat, after all. (And several other stomachs from a number of different creatures, several of which did not actually exist, at that. Draconequus biology was weird.)

That only made the prince angrier. “And you’re giving something as plain and, and, and common as this to your nation’s rulers, the luminaries who control every facet of your life, the deities who raise the sun and the moon and…do whatever it is Princess Twilight does?”

“Hey!” Twilight said, miffed.

“That’s a good question, actually. What is it you do again?” Discord asked innocently. Twilight glared at him.

“This is treason! No, worse, this is sacrilege! You shouldn’t just be fired, you should be banished! No, imprisoned! No, imprisoned in the place you’re banished to! No, executed in the place you’re imprisoned wherever you’re banished to!” Blueblood ranted furiously.

“Nephew-“ Celestia started, looking alarmed.

The servant’s eyes narrowed, and her tone went from cold to sub-zero. “It’s all we have on hoof ever since a certain obnoxious member of the Royal Family called the Head Chef a talentless hack who wasn’t fit to work in a greasy spoon out in the furthest slums of Hollow Shades let alone the kitchens of Canterlot Castle due to said member of the Royal Family’s dessert not having enough sprinkles on it, causing the Head Chef to have a nervous breakdown and incite the entire kitchen staff to go on strike until they receive a formal apology.”

“Oh,” Blueblood said, looking suitably chastened. “I…see. In that case, I see what must be done.”

“You do?” the server asked in surprise.

“You do?!” the Alicorn Princesses said in astonishment.

“No, I don’t think he does,” Discord said.

“What I must do…” Blueblood said dramatically. “Is berate Princess Polaris for being so rude to our kitchen staff!”

“…Wait, what?!” the Princess in question (a beautiful dark blue and ice-white mortal Earth Pony with a Cutie Mark resembling the North Star, not one of the three divine Alicorns, just to be clear), sitting further down the table, said incredulously.

“For shame, Polaris! The kitchen staff is very sensitive and of a delicate constitution, and need to be treated with a steady hoof due to their being our intellectual inferiors, just like the rest of the working class! Even if they were clearly in the wrong for not giving you enough sprinkles, saying the Head Chef wasn’t worthy of working at a greasy spoon in the furthest slums of Hollow Shades is going too far! Manehattan, perhaps, but certainly not Hollow Shades! I must insist that you apologize at once, so that we can get back to eating proper meals again instead of this swill!”

“I…you…” Polaris, who’d always been very nice to the castle’s servants due to her father being a former window-washer that married up and made sure she never forgot where half her roots came from and was very popular with the staff as a result, stammered incoherently for a moment, eye twitching. Finally, teeth grinding together, she angrily stood up from her place and stomped out of the room, her hooves cracking the floor as she went.

“There, that’s settled, she’s going to go apologize right now, so I don’t need to ruin my palate by eating this garbage,” Blueblood said triumphantly as he knocked his bowl and plate off the table, causing both to shatter on the ground, completely oblivious to Twilight banging her head against the table, his aunts facehooving, Discord shaking his head, the rest of his royal cousins glaring at him in contempt, or the fact that he’d just destroyed dishes dating back to before Luna’s banishment worth hundreds of thousands of bits. Oh, and made more work for the poor cleaning staff, as well. “And speaking of garbage…where is my wife’s meal? She’s getting really hungry!” This did indeed seem to be the case, as Crackle had stopped munching on the table and was now chewing on the tail of the Prince sitting next to her, much to his horror.

“Right here, Your Majesty,” a pony wearing a hazmat suit replied, carrying a rather large, rather smelly trashcan in a pair of massive tongs. He dumped its contents in a rather large bowl that had been set several feet away from the table. With what might possibly be a squeal of delight, but could just as well have been gas, Crackle leaped at the bowl of garbage, splattering it all over the place as her immense body weight displaced it—thankfully, they’d figured out by now the safe distance to keep her meal away from the table so as not to get anyone messy or sick from the smell—and started rolling around in the filth, very little if any of it getting in her mouth. Maybe she was able to consume matter through osmosis. Nopony was sure, and nopony really cared to know.

“Well, at least someone’s enjoying her meal,” Blueblood said with a sniff. “Anyway…Auntie Celestia, I regret to inform you that I will be unable to assist you in any matters of state today, for I have pressing business to attend to.”

Celestia perked up at this. “That’s wonderf—er, I mean, I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m sure it must be important.”

“It is,” Blueblood said gravely. “It is.”

“And what, prithee, is this important business?” Luna asked suspiciously, while above her Discord removed his glasses and gave Blueblood an appraising look.

Giving an extremely obvious and unsubtle wink and a nod to the chaos god, Blueblood turned to Twilight and asked, “Princess Twilight, would your friend and consort Rarity still happen to be in the castle?”

Contrary to popular opinion, Blueblood did not, in fact, hate Twilight Sparkle or think her unsuited to be a Princess. He didn’t exactly like her, but he’d known her for a good chunk of his life, and while he had often been envious of how his Aunt doted on her, she seemed to make Princess Celestia happy for some reason, so he’d supposed she was okay. He also held a great deal of respect for her as a Unicorn of unrivaled magical power, the daughter of the Archmage and one of the greatest swordstallions in the history of the kingdom, and the heir to one of the oldest, strongest, and most respected noble houses in Canterlot, who had loyally served Princess Celestia even before her ascension to the throne and were said to have descended from Clover the Clever, one of the greatest sorceresses who had ever lived. She’d also saved the world a few times too or something. Blueblood certainly believed she had earned her newfound power and title…and if he was incredibly jealous that she had such power and immortality and wings while he did not, well, so was everyone else, so that didn’t make him any different in that regard.

What he didn’t understand was why she not only associated with, but took to bed a bunch of bumpkins from some country town who’d probably never even heard of proper hygiene. He’d heard they only had one spa there. Only one! How could they live with themselves?! How could Twilight Sparkle enjoy spending so much time there, rather than staying in Canterlot, where civilized ponies lived? (He also didn’t understand why his Aunt had chosen those bumpkins to wield Elements of Harmony. Surely there were more worthy candidates for that great power? Like, say, himself? He was loyal to the Crown, always told the serfs how worthless they were so they couldn’t deceive themselves as to their value or place in the world, liked laughing at others’ misfortune, gave his servants a generous bonus of two bits at Hearth’s Warming and let them have the holidays off to be with their families so long as they worked off the time they’d taken off once they got back in unpaid overtime, and had graduated from Celestia's School from Gifted Unicorns...at the bottom of every class...and only made it through with some serious bribery from his parents and by sleeping with several of his professors and peers. He was plenty harmonious!) Regardless, he needed to speak with one of those bumpkins about something very important. Something that was a long time coming.

Twilight shook her head. “No, Rarity had an important appointment back in Ponyville, so she had to rush off right after we got up this morning. She didn’t even have time to stay for breakfast, or a…well, morning quickie.” She blushed. “The others, on the other hand…”

“Ah,” Blueblood said, somewhat disappointed. He’d thought something like this might happen, but he had hoped otherwise. “How…unfortunate. I suppose I shall have to go see her in…Ponyville, then,” he said, trying to hide the shudder of revulsion at the name of that dirty hick town. They probably used porcelain for their toilets! Assuming they had toilets and didn’t just do it outside where anyone could step on it, which wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest.

“Why do you need to speak to Rarity?” Twilight asked warily, her protective instincts towards one of her best friends and sex slaves instantly kicking in.

“I need to speak to her about an…important matter,” Blueblood said vaguely.
Twilight’s face lit up. “Oh! Are you going to apologize to her for being so horrible to her at the Grand Galloping Gala, and pretty much every single other time you’ve been in the same room together?”

“Wh-what?!” Blueblood asked in alarm.

Princess Celestia gasped in delight. “Oh, Blueblood, that’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you!”

“You are?” Blueblood asked in surprise, trying to recall the last time Princess Celestia had said those words to him. He could vaguely recall a macaroni picture that he’d made which she hung on a refrigerator…many, many years ago…

“Yes! You’re finally willing to take responsibility for your actions, and-“ Celestia said excitedly.
If Blueblood had been a smarter pony, he would have taken Celestia’s assumption and run with it. Blueblood was not a smart pony. “What?! But I didn’t do anything wrong to that peasant,” Blueblood protested in surprise. “I was treating her exactly as she deserved!”

There was a long pause. “Oh,” Celestia said in disappointment, looking down at her plate. “I see.” Blueblood felt a pang of something deep in his chest. He was fairly certain it was hunger.

There was a loud snapping noise. Blueblood turned to see that Twilight had broken her fork in half with her mind. And then the fork burst into flame. It sounded like it was screaming. “That peasant is one of my very best friends and loved ones,” she said so coldly ice started to form on the floor and table around her. “And technically outranks you, as a Bearer of an Element of Harmony and consort of a living goddess. So I would say she deserves a lot more respect than you have given her, even if she’s not from a noble family.” (Twilight was unaware of Rarity’s genealogy. That was something Celestia intended to spring on her, as well as the rest of her friends’ lineages, at a later date.)

“…Yyyyyes. Well. Be that as it may,” Blueblood said uneasily, suddenly remembering that Twilight could probably do something so horrible to him that his descendants (His hypothetical descendants. Blueblood was sterile ever since a visit to a magical power plant a few years ago where a reactor leak had given him radiation poisoning. By an astonishing coincidence, the plant manager happened to be one of his ex-girlfriends, and had received a rather sizable grant from the government after the incident that seemed rather exorbitant for fixing a simple reactor leak.) would feel his agony for generations to come. “I do need to see her about an important matter. And, er…perhaps…just maybe…an apology for things I may or may not have said that could, possibly, be misinterpreted as wrongful insults might, hypothetically, come up?”
Twilight’s glare did not ebb in the slightest. Blueblood swallowed and tried very hard not to void his bowels. Crackle had no such problem, but she had an incontinence issue, and wasn’t paying attention, so it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“So,” Princess Luna asked evenly. “I ask again. What, prithee, is this important business, nephew?”

“Ah,” Blueblood said. “You see…that is…I need to…ah…” He paused, squinting at something above Luna’s head. “Speak…to…her…a boat…”

“A boat?” Celestia asked in confusion. “I wasn’t aware Rarity liked boats.”

“She doesn’t,” Twilight said. “Unless they’re extremely glamorous cruise ships, of course.”

“A boat? That doesn’t make any sense!” Blueblood said. He squinted harder. “No, wait, ‘about’…yes, that makes more sense…making…a…suit…for…Discord…”

“What? No, you idiot! The suit is for you!” the chaos god hissed.

“But that placard you’re holding says ‘for me,’” Blueblood said, looking perplexed.

Everyone looked up and saw that Discord was, indeed, holding rather large placards with the words Blueblood had just incompetently stumbled through written on them. “Ahahahaha…now where did these come from?” he laughed nervously, quickly tossing the placards at Crackle, who promptly snatched them out of the air and ate them, destroying the evidence.
Shooting Discord a suspicious look, Twilight turned to Blueblood and said, “Well, if it’s a suit you’re looking for, Rarity is definitely your mare, and I’m not just saying that out of favoritism due to her being one of my best friends and consorts and making all of my dresses for free.”

“Yes!” Blueblood shouted like a drowning stallion clinging to a life preserver. “A suit. That is exactly what I am needing. Yes. For an…occasion.”

“What occasion?” Luna asked dubiously.

“Uh…” Blueblood looked up at Discord for help. The spirit shrugged. “Your…um…birthday?”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “My birthday was last week.”

“Never too early to prepare for the next one!” Blueblood said desperately.

“I don’t think you actually attended my birthday,” Luna recalled. “In fact, I seem to recall you being found passed-out drunk in a-“

“Well, I should probably get going to Pony…place now to speak with Rarity!” Blueblood said loudly, standing up. “Time’s a wasting, and I need to get this done as soon as possible, so off I go!”

“But you haven’t even touched your breakfast,” Twilight pointed out.

“I’ll eat later! Off I go!” Blueblood shouted, quickly trotting for the exit.

“Wait! Blueblood, I don’t suppose you could take Crackle with you? She’s been looking rather green lately, I think the country air might do her some good,” Celestia said. And all of us some good, to get her out of the castle for a few hours.

Blueblood looked at his wife, who was currently covered in garbage and…what he dearly hoped was garbage, contemplated the idea of being stuck with her in a chariot for any length of time, and cringed. “I…don’t suppose she has time for a bath first?”

“I thought time was a-wasting, Nephew,” Luna said with serene innocence.

Blueblood sighed. “That I did, Auntie. That I did.” He whistled. “Come, Crackle.”

The dragon perked up and ran straight towards him. And by ‘straight towards him,’ I mean she waddled in a chaotic zigzag, slamming into five pillars, bowling over some servants, knocking over an extremely ancient and priceless urn, ripping an even more ancient and priceless tapestry off the wall, and leaving a trail of dirty pawprints in her wake. Wincing at her odor and state of filth, Blueblood led his wife out of the room.

“Couldn’t we have just cast a cleaning spell on her?” Twilight asked the elder Alicorns once Blueblood and Crackle were gone.

“Yes,” Luna said smugly. “Yes, we could have.”

Celestia sighed wearily. “I should never have let Crackle into the castle and told everyone she was a dragon princess as a prank. How was I to know that Blueblood would propose? And that she’d accept?”

“Technically, she didn’t say ‘yes,’ she said, ‘ghhhhhhkkklgljhhhhgggqqqqqqqqqqrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnn,’” Discord said helpfully. “Which isn’t technically a no, either. I think.”

“Discord, are you plotting something with Blueblood?” Twilight asked suspiciously.

“What? No! Don’t be preposterous, whatever gave you that idea?” Discord said, laughing nervously.

“The big wink he gave you, the way you were feeding him lines, the way you seemed to be paying very close attention to what he was saying…” Celestia said with a frown.

“Ah, yes, I can see why you’d think that,” Discord said. “Well, the truth of it is-“ He snapped his talons and vanished.

Luna sighed. “I can’t say I’m not surprised he did that.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“There’s toast on your nose,” Celestia observed.

Luna paused, eyes crossing as she tried to make out the bread lying on her snout, butter splattering the top of her muzzle. “So there is,” she observed. “So there is.”

In Which a Scheme is Hatched
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Blueblood's Big Bad Bloody Brilliant Brouhaha

In Which a Scheme is Hatched

After dropping Crackle in one of the castle’s many giant fountains and rushing off before any of the attendants could scream at him for turning the lovely piece of architecture into a toxic waste dump, Blueblood and his wife continued on their way to the chariot bay—going completely the wrong way, of course, since the prince had no sense of direction—when a miniature Discord suddenly materialized on Blueblood’s shoulder. “Hey, Princey, can we talk for a second?”

After glancing around furtively to make sure nobody was watching, Blueblood said, in an extremely loud whisper, “Certainly, Uncle. What is it?”

Discord grimaced at Blueblood’s use of the honorific. Ever since he’d moved into Canterlot Castle and started shacking up with Celestia, many members of the Royal Family had started calling him ‘Uncle,’ which he had rather mixed feelings about. On the one hand, he was delighted, because he’d never actually had a family before and rather liked the idea of being the kind of wacky uncle everyone’s parents were embarrassed to be related to and didn’t really want around their kids. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of being related to a bunch of self-centered stuck-up ponces like far too many members of the mortal Royal Family, of which Blueblood was arguably the worst of all. “So…you’re going to see Rarity.”

“That’s right,” Blueblood said.

“Which means, I assume, you’re finally going to exact your revenge on her,” Discord said.

Blueblood narrowed his eyes. “Yes…she’s going to pay for getting cake on me at the Grand Galloping Gala! Oh, and humiliating me in front of everyone.”

Discord rolled his eyes. “Yes, that…so, what exactly is your plot for vengeance, then? You haven’t really been very forthright about it at our weekly meetings of the Evil League of Evil.”

Blueblood glanced around surreptitiously, again to make sure that nobody was listening in on them, before leaning his head down towards Discord and muttering out of the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been planning this for years, down to the very last detail, and didn’t want to tell anyone for fear they might somehow screw it up.”

“But since you’re about to carry out that plan now, surely there’s nothing wrong in telling your old Uncle Discord?” the chaos god asked, eyes growing big and wet and a halo appearing behind his head.

“…Very well, Uncle,” Blueblood said. He leaned even closer. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to go to Ponytown-“

“Ponyville,” Discord corrected.

Blueblood nodded. “Right, that place. I will go into her place of business…”

“The Carousel Boutique,” Discord said.

Blueblood nodded. “Right, that place. And then…”

“Yes?” Discord asked.

Blueblood’s horn glowed, and a saddlebag he’d been wearing this whole time that hadn’t been mentioned until this very moment opened up as a pie levitated out. “I will take this pie…”

“Uh-huh…” Discord said uncertainly, frowning at the pie.

“And throw it in her face!” Blueblood said triumphantly.

“…And?” Discord asked.

“And then I’ll laugh,” Blueblood said. “Very important, the laugh. I’ve been spending months getting it just right.”

Discord stared at Blueblood for a long, long time. “And…that’s it, is it? Throwing a pie in her face?”

“Yes,” Blueblood said.

“And you’ve spent years coming up with this,” Discord said.

“Yes,” Blueblood said proudly.

“…Is…is the pie full of acid? Or Poison Joke? Or something like that?” Discord asked slowly.

“It’s apple,” Blueblood said smugly.

“…Apple,” Discord repeated.

“Yes,” Blueblood said.

“Why is it apple?” Discord asked.

“Because I hate apple pie,” Blueblood said, as if it were obvious.

“…So…just because you dislike apple pie, you assume she will too?” Discord asked incredulously. Was he really that self-centered?

Wait, stupid question. Of course he was.

“Apple pie is the worst pie of all! Nopony could possibly like it!” Blueblood claimed.

“…Rarity is friends with Applejack. An apple farmer. She eats apple-based products all the time!” Discord shouted.

“Oh.” Blueblood hadn’t considered this. “Including pies?”

“YES!” Discord yelled.

“Well…perhaps she’s just eating the pie to make that stupid yokel feel like her life’s purpose is not, in fact, to toil endlessly for no reward for the sake of her betters?” Blueblood suggested.

Discord facepawed. “Oh, Blueblood. For the love of…” He snapped his talons, returning to his regular size, though he was still sitting on Blueblood’s shoulder, making the princely Unicorn very uncomfortable. “Give me that!” He snatched the apple pie from Blueblood’s magical field and tossed it out the window, where it landed on a gardener several stories below, whose screams of alarm wafted back up towards them. “Bwahahahahaha, priceless.”

“Hey, I spent five whole bits on that!” Blueblood cried.

“Okay, Princeling, listen up and listen good,” Discord said, looking exasperated. “I’m all for chaos and randomness and stupidity. It’s kind of my thing. But this? Throwing a pie in someone’s face? That’s not an evil plan of revenge, that’s just a prank. And you spent years planning it? Seriously? That’s the best you could do?! That’s…that’s just pathetic. Then again, what else could I expect from someone as completely stupid and thick-headed as you?!”

“Now see here-“ Blueblood started indignantly.

“No, you see here. I refuse to attach myself to a scheme as mind-numbingly stupid as this. Even I have my limits!” Discord said angrily. “So listen up and listen good. If you’re going to have revenge on Rarity, you’re going to do it my way. Fortunately, I anticipated that your plan might be a complete and utter waste of brain cells, so I came up with something that might actually work.” He produced a piece of paper and showed it to Blueblood. “What do you make of this, eh?”

“…It’s a picture of Aunt Celestia with wall-eyes and a beanie saying ‘I are teh dumb and Discord am best draconequus,’” Blueblood said in confusion.

“Why so it is,” Discord agreed, throwing the drawing to Crackle, who ate it. “And what of this?” he asked, showing Blueblood another piece of paper.

The prince shrieked in horror and backpedaled until he hit the wall. “Sweet Auntie, it’s hideous!”

Discord laughed and tossed the photo to Crackle, who ate it. “Yes, I know, Princess Luna does not look pretty before she’s had her first cup of coffee! But seriously, tell me what you think of this?” Discord asked, producing yet another piece of paper.

Blueblood screamed again and covered his eyes. “MY EYES! MY BEAUTIFUL EYES! THEY BURN!”

Discord cackled. “I know! I spent months coming up this this: a detailed diagram for the most hideous and unfashionable suit in the history of fashion that even the most fashion-blind pony—or golfer--would realize is an abomination against Princess and pony. No respectable dressmaker would ever make something as horrible as this…well, not without certain incentives, anyway.”

“What are you saying?” Blueblood asked, hooves still covering his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the…the horror.

“When you go to Carousel Boutique, you will tell Rarity that you need this exact suit for an important occasion,” Discord said, folding up the diagram and putting it in Blueblood’s saddlebags. “And tell her that if she makes it exactly to the specifications in the drawing, you will give her her shop’s weight in gold.”

“What?! But I don’t have that much money!” Blueblood protested as he removed his hooves from his eyes. “Auntie cut off my allowance after I tried to bribe government officials to pass a law that would banish every ugly pony in Equestria to the sugar mines so that nopony—by which I mean myself--would ever have to look at them again!”

“Don’t worry, I can provide the cash,” Discord assured him.

Blueblood frowned. “I thought Auntie forbade you from making gold anymore since the time you sent inflation skyrocketing and nearly destabilized the economy.”

“I won’t make the gold, I’ll just get it from elsewhere,” Discord said vaguely. “There’s plenty of gold lying around in the world, you just have to know the right place to look.” Such as dragon hoards. Where he’d leave notes saying, ‘Haha dragons r ugly and stoopid Prince Blueblood rulz PS I took all ur treazure.’

“So…I don’t understand. Why should I pay her that much money to make that…that abomination?” Blueblood asked in confusion.

“Because if she doesn’t make it exactly like the diagram specifies, not only will you refuse to pay her a single bit, but you’ll also tell everyone in Equestria that she failed to make an outfit for a member of the royal family. You can do the same thing if she refuses flat out to make it, since refusing a royal request is even worse than trying to fulfill it and failing,” Discord explained. “She’ll become ponya non grata. She’ll be humiliated and disgraced, nopony will buy her clothes again, and the fashion industry will want nothing to do with her.”

“But Princess Twilight will just bail her out,” said the confused Blueblood.

“Of course she will. Which will only ruin Rarity’s reputation further, since everypony will resent her for being Twilight’s pet and only getting to where she is now due to royal favoritism,” Discord said.

Blueblood gasped. “That’s brilliant! But wait, what if she does make the suit perfectly?”

“Ah, my dear, stupid nephew,” Discord said, patting Blueblood’s head patronizingly. “Then she’ll be in an even worse place, because she’ll have sold out.”

“Huh?” Blueblood asked in confusion.

“Ponies like Rarity have a little thing called ‘artistic integrity,’” Discord explained, making air quotes that caused actual quotation marks to hover briefly in the air. “It means she’ll make whatever she feels like and sell it to whoever will buy it. She’ll take commissions, of course—she needs to eat, after all—but always manages to shape and manipulate her client’s requests to match her own style and desires. But if she makes something that goes against her grain, something that is the antithesis of everything she stands for—namely, to make the world a more beautiful place, which it certainly won’t be if she makes the thing I just gave you the specs for—for money, then she will be no better than all those hack seamstresses who make cheap knockoffs of successful brands to make some cash. She’ll be wealthier, oh yes, very much so, but she’ll have done so by betraying her principles and ideals, and will take no pleasure in it…especially since it means that other people will start thinking that all they need to do to get her to make whatever horrible fashion nightmares they’ve cooked up is to throw money at her.”

“But…I don’t understand. How will giving her more money be revenge?” asked the dumbfounded Blueblood, who had no understanding whatsoever of art that wasn’t portraits or statues of himself.

“Look, it just will, okay? Trust me on this, it’s an artist thing,” said the annoyed Discord. “And besides, if she makes it, she’ll be the laughingstock of the fashion industry for creating something so disgusting. So either way, her reputation will be ruined. And that’s much better than just throwing a pie in her face, don’t you think?”

“…I guess?” Blueblood asked doubtfully.

“Good. Now get going, you don’t have all day!” Discord said, shoving Blueblood off.

The prince sighed. “No, I suppose I don’t. Come, Crackle, we have to go!” The dragon stopped humping a column and waddled over to the Unicorn. They set off down the hallway.

“By the way, you’re going the wrong way,” Discord called after him.

“…I knew that,” Blueblood lied.

In Which Things Get Very Strange
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Blueblood's Big Bad Bloody Brilliant Brouhaha

In Which Things Get Very Strange

Later, at Carousel Boutique…

“Just a little more…and…there, I do believe that’s all the measurements I’ll need, Fleur,” Rarity told her upper-class friend as she jotted down the last numbers on a scrap of paper and spirited it, her pencil, and her tape measure away with a wave of her horn. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think all those accusations of your being anorexic might have a grain of truth to them. I certainly have trouble maintaining a figure as fine as yours…especially with Pinkie Pie as one of my best friends…”

“Did somepony say my name?” a certain wild-maned pink pony cried as she popped out from under the cushions of a nearby couch, startling its occupant, a handsome white stallion in a suit jacket with a blue mane and tail, a monocle, a triple crown Cutie Mark, and a very fine moustache that had won him numerous awards.

“No, Pinkie, we don’t need you right now,” Rarity said with the long-suffering air of someone who had to deal with this sort of thing on a regular basis.

“Awww, darn. Okay, I’ll come back later,” Pinkie Pie said, wiggling back between the cushions and disappearing.

The seated Unicorn slowly put down the Hoofball magazine he’d been reading, took off and cleaned his monocle, then put it back on and raised the cushions off the couch in his magical field. There was no sign that the pink pony had ever been there. “How did she-“

“It’s Pinkie Pie, it’s not worth thinking about,” Rarity said wearily.

Fleur Dis Lee gracefully stepped down from the dais she’d been standing on for the last few minutes while Rarity took her measurements, causally tossing back her pink mane with a practiced flick of her head and causing it to flow sensually down her neck as she maneuvered around one of the many ponnequins littering the ground floor of Rarity’s shop, each clad in one of her magnificent designs. As she often did, Rarity felt a twinge of envy for her supermodel friend. The white-coated purple-maned Unicorn was widely regarded as among the most beautiful ponies in Ponyville, but she couldn’t help feeling like that ugly pimple-faced filly with thick glasses and braces nopony wanted to associate with in high school in comparison. (You know, like Twist.) Rarity had to spend several minutes, if not hours every morning making herself look beautiful, and she still paled in comparison to the elegant white Unicorn mare whose slender form had been compared to Princess Celestia’s so often there were some who thought she might be an illegitimate daughter of the Alicorn of the Sun. (She wasn’t, she was actually the daughter of the Prench Ambassador and a painter, but that’s unimportant.) “Will zere be anyzing else you need from me, Rarity?”

Rarity waved her off. “No, I think I have everything I need to start on your wedding dress…and may I once again say how flattered I am that you came to me of all ponies to help prepare for your big day?”

Fleur smiled warmly. “Zere are many designers who would kill for a chance to make my wedding gown—and I’m not entirely certain zat’s ‘yperbole—but you are ze only one I can trust to make Fancy and I look absolutely perfect for our wedding.”

“That, and you’re cheaper than most of the alternatives,” Fancypants commented, picking up his magazine again.

“Fancy!” Fleur hissed, blushing.

“What? She gives friends discounts,” the stallion pointed out.

Fleur facehooved. Rarity chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m always happy to help a friend in need…especially a need as big as this! When I first heard the news about you and Fancy, I daresay I squealed louder than Sweetie Belle that one time she thought she got her Cutie Mark…except it wasn’t actually her Cutie Mark, but some tree sap. How she always winds up covered in that substance even when she’s nowhere near a tree is one of the great mysteries of Ponyville, like how Snowflake can fly with those tiny wings, or exactly how old Granny Smith is, or how Pinkie Pie does…everything, really.”

“Can I come out now?” Rarity’s little sister Sweetie Belle, a white Unicorn with pastel purple and pink hair, asked from the corner she was sitting in, perking up at hearing her name.

“Not now, Sweetie, it’s business hours, which means you need to sit right there and do absolutely nothing,” Rarity said. She paused, then added, “And try not to talk. Or breathe too loudly.”

“Yes, Rarity,” Sweetie said unhappily

“…Is she being punished for something?” asked the concerned Fancypants.

“No, it’s just in everypony’s best interests that she stand in a corner and do absolutely nothing while I’m working,” Rarity said.

“I just want to help!” Sweetie whined.

“You are helping, darling,” Rarity said without looking at her sister. She smiled at her guests. “I do love Sweetie, but she can sometimes be a bit of a hooffull,” she said quietly, so Sweetie wouldn’t hear. “I’m sure you’ll know the feeling once the two of you have children, right?”

The two Canterlot Unicorns blushed. “Ah. Yes. Children. We, er, talked about having some, didn’t we, Fleur?” Fancypants said nervously.

“Yes,” Fleur said vaguely. “Someday.”

“Not right now.”

“When we’re ready.”

“In a few years.”

“Maybe longer.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

“So, Rarity! Fancy and I are about to be ‘appily wed. When do you suppose we can ‘ear ze news about you and your friends and Princess Twilight getting married?” Fleur asked brightly asked.

Rarity flinched. “Ah, well…the idea’s been bandied about, but-“

Before that awkward conversation could continue, the door slammed open and Prince Blueblood strode dramatically into the room, followed a second later by Crackle, who didn’t quite understand the point of doors and simply smashed through the wall next to it. Rarity screamed in horror. “MY WALL!”

“It wasn’t me!...this time!” Sweetie Belle yelled, not daring to turn around.

“Miss Rarity, I, Prince Blueblood, have deigned to visit this establishment to WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?!” Prince Blueblood screamed when he saw Fancypants sitting on a couch nearby.

“Oh, Bluey old chap! Good to see you!” Fancypants said as he set down his magazine, got up, and walked over to shake the prince’s hoof. “I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you here! I seem to recall you once saying that you’d never set hoof in this…let’s see, what was your exact wording? Oh yes, this ‘flea-ridden, inbred, uncultured, degenerate, poverty-stricken, dirt-covered, unwashed, uneducated, disgusting eyesore of a Podunk town that should be demolished to make way for a giant golden fire-breathing statue of myself as tall as Mount Canterlot, even if the alternative was being tortured for all eternity in the bowels of Tartarus or being forced to listen to Discord singing.’”

Sensing that Rarity, Fleur, and a rather obese white cat sitting on a nearby pillow were all glaring at him (Sweetie was still staring at a wall), Blueblood laughed nervously and said, “Well, now, I don’t recall saying that…”

“No, I’m pretty sure you did, I have a fairly good memory,” Fancypants said cheerfully.

“Ahahahahaha…ANYWAY,” Blueblood said loudly, tugging at his collar. “What, ah, brings you and Fleur here? Oh, and hello, Fleur.”

Fleur very pointedly walked past him without looking at him and smiled at Crackle, who was currently picking her nose with her prehensile tongue. “Crackle! So nice to see you again. Will you be free for tea zis Zursday?” Crackle farted very loudly and drooled on the floor. “Excellent! I’ll make sure zat your favorite blend will be ready in time, along wiz zose cakes you like so much!”

Blueblood blinked. “Crackle has tea with Fleur?”

“Yes, and some of her other marefriends. She’s quite popular among the upper crust, you know,” Fancypants said.

“…No, I did not know,” Blueblood said, dumbfounded. How could anyone possibly want to spend time around…that?

Fancypants nodded. “Oh yes, she’s made a name for herself as an art critic and a bit of a wit, and is able to predict with unfailing accuracy who’s going to win the next Wonderbolts Derby or other sporting event. She also looks very good in a hat, which as everyone knows is a prerequisite for hitting in with high society. And to answer your question, Fleur and I came to Rarity so she could take our measurements to design our wedding clothes.” He frowned in concern. “You are coming, right? We haven’t gotten your RSVP yet, and Fleur didn’t really want to invite you at all, but I told her we simply couldn’t have one of her best friends without her husband, it wouldn’t be seemly. Ponies would talk, after all.”

“Yes,” Blueblood said with gritted teeth. “They would, at that.”

“So, can we expect you at the wedding?” Fancypants asked brightly.

Blueblood stared at the smiling Unicorn. Other than possibly Rarity, there was no pony he hated more in all of Equestria than Fancypants. How he longed to punch that smug bastard’s face in and break off his horn and ruin that winning smile and rip off his mustache so that he would know the pain of never being able to grow much facial hair beside a rather wispy pathetic excuse for a beard. “Sure thing.”

“Excellent! I knew I could count on you,” Fancypants said happily, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Blueblood despised him with every fiber of his being. Alternatively, he was well aware, and enjoyed pushing Blueblood’s buttons, either option was a distinct possibility.

“So,” Rarity said through clenched teeth. “Prince Blueblood. To what do I owe the rather dubious honor of your presence? And will you be paying for the hole your wife made in the wall…or the rug she tore up…or the curtains she ripped off…or the dresses she’s eating STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!” she screamed at the dim-witted dragon, who looked at her blankly and kept chewing on the incredibly expensive gown Rarity had been working on for Sapphire Shores that was due later that afternoon.

“Oh, Fancy can cover the bill,” Blueblood said dismissively.

“Wait, what?” Fancypants said.

“Anyway, Miss Rarity, I’ve come here for an important request,” Blueblood said, ignoring Fancypants’s splutters of protest. His horn glowed, opening his saddlebag and levitating out the diagram Discord had given him. “You see, I need you to make-“

Without warning, a forked tongue shot out, snatched the paper out of the air, and dragged it down a certain dragon’s throat. Blueblood squealed shrilly. “NO! GIVE THAT BACK! I NEEDED THAT, YOU STUPID DRAGON!” he screamed, rushing over to Crackle, prying open her jaws, and sticking his head in her mouth to see if he could find the diagram before it was digested. Naturally, Crackle’s jaws slammed shut on her husband’s head, and she started flailing the screaming Unicorn prince about like a ragdoll before spitting him out, causing him to fly through the air and smash into one of the various mirrors scattered around the room, shattering it and imbedding pieces of glass in his coat. “Ow.”

“That’s seven years bad luck!” Sweetie chirped helpfully. “Also, not my fault this time!”

“I suppose I’m paying for that too, am I?” Fancypants said wearily.

“Crackle! Zat was an absolutely ‘orrible thing to do!” Fleur chided the dragon, before leaning closer and saying, “Nice distance.” Crackle hiccupped, setting fire to a ponnequin, causing Rarity to scream and quickly put it out with a fire extinguisher before it could spread.

“Also not my fault this time!” Sweetie yelled.

“Are you all right, old boy?” Fancypants asked Blueblood in concern.

“No,” Blueblood moaned.

“…Right. Stupid question,” Fancypants said.

After they’d removed the glass from Blueblood’s back and bandaged him up using one of the many medical kits Rarity kept on the premises in case of emergencies—Blueblood had refused to let them take him to the hospital, claiming he didn’t want any of his limbs amputated or leeches applied to his beautiful body, ignoring Rarity’s assertion that Ponyville Hospital was at least as good as Canterlot General and certainly as modern—Fancypants asked, “So, what was on that paper that was so important you stuck your head into the dragon’s mouth to get it back?”

Blueblood’s mind raced. Without that diagram Discord had spent so much time on, his plan was shot. There was no way he could ruin Rarity’s reputation now. His thoughts went to his saddlebag, in which a second apple pie, which he’d purchased from a stand in the Ponyville marketplace—a far cry and a pale, pathetic imitation of the Bazaar in Canterlot, which he had only been able to tolerate by riding on Crackle’s back so he didn’t have to get too close to any of the rubes or their no-doubt diseased and shoddy wares--stallioned by an extremely intimidating masculine specimen with a red coat who Blueblood suspected had overcharged him while en route to the Boutique just in case Discord’s plan didn’t work. Perhaps he could salvage this. All he had to do was reach into his bag, pull out the pie, throw it in Rarity’s face, and laugh…

No, wait! He had a sudden flash of brilliance. “Oh, uh, it was just my to-do list. I had some errands I needed to take care of. Fortunately, unless my memory is mistaken, there was only one item left on the list, which is the thing I came here to take care of!”

Rarity raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And that might be?”

Blueblood thrust a hoof at Crackle, who was currently licking Rarity’s cat and apparently completely oblivious to the feline’s hissing and shrieking and leaving bloody gashes in her face with its claws. Wow. That had to be one strong cat for her claws to pierce dragon scales. “I want you to make a dress for my wife that will make her look as beautiful as…as…as Princess Celestia for the next Summer Sun Celebration! And I’ll pay you your shop’s weight in gold if you succeed, and if you don’t, I’ll…uh…” He paused when he noticed that Fleur and Fancypants were looking at him very carefully, and realized it would probably not be a good idea to talk of threats in front of one of the most influential and respected ponies in Canterlot. One even, much to his frustration, more influential and respected than himself. “I’ll…be very disappointed…” he finished lamely. He suddenly wasn’t certain about this idea. Uncle Discord was going to be disappointed in him, and give him that infuriating look and say, “Oh, Blueblood,” as if he’d expected the Prince to fail, as if it was all he could be relied on to do, as if he wasn’t actually a pony but someone to be pitied and looked down on and mocked behind his back, and often right to his face. A surge of anger rushed through him. Maybe he should just throw the pie and be done with it.

Intrigued and unaware of the dark thoughts going through Blueblood’s mind, Rarity trotted around Crackle, muttering to herself as she appraised the dragon, who stood there with a blank look on her face while wagging her tail hard enough to shake the building slightly each time it hit the floor. “Hmm…”

“Can you do it, Rarity?” Fleur asked in concern. “Can you make mon ami…beautiful?”

Ha! Not a chance! Blueblood thought gleefully.

“Of course my sister can do it!” Sweetie said loyally, turning around to see what everyone was talking about. “She’s the best in the business! There’s nothing she can’t…do…” She stared at Crackle. Crackle stared back. Sweetie quietly turned back around to face the wall.

“Can it be done, Miss Rarity?” asked a curious Fancypants. “Can you make dear Crackle a vision of loveliness that will have all of Canterlot talking? You have a bit of a reputation for doing the impossible, but this seems like a tall order even for you!”
Rarity rubbed her chin in thought. “…Yes. Yes, I believe I can do it.”

“WHAT?!” Blueblood screamed incredulously.

“It will be an extremely difficult task…possibly the hardest in my career…but is it beyond my abilities? Hardly! I am Rarity! I exude fabulosity, and I cannot stand the thought of anyone, even a dragon, having to wallow in feelings of ugliness and inadequacy! So I shall take up this challenge, Prince Blueblood, oh yes, and with Celestia as my witness, I swear that I will make your wife the most beautiful dragon in all of Equestria!” Rarity cried dramatically, horn glowing as she opened a window so the wind could blow through her mane (though since there was still a large hole in the wall, that might not have been necessary) and turning a lamp so it shined directly on her.

“Well said, Miss Rarity!” Fancypants said, applauding.

Fleur nodded in agreement. “If anyone can do it, it is you, Rarity!”

“Yeah, go Big Sis!” Sweetie Belle squeaked.

“Oh, come on!” Blueblood yelled in exasperation. Horn glowing, he prepared to pull out his pie…

When suddenly, the other wall next to the door burst apart as a screaming gray Pegasus with a blond mane, bubbles for a Cutie Mark, yellow crossed eyes, waving a war flail about smashed through it, followed by a brown Earth Pony stallion with an hourglass Cutie Mark and two female Unicorns, a pink young adult with a violet mane and jewel Cutie Mark, and a pale purple filly with a blond mane and no Cutie Mark. Blueblood screamed like a filly and jumped into the air, landing in Fleur’s forelegs. The supermodel unceremoniously dropped him to the floor. “I didn’t do it!” Sweetie cried.

“I have a door, you know!” Rarity shrieked.

“Quickly, girls! Destroy all of them! Don’t let even one survive!” the Earth Pony shouted as he launched himself at one of the ponnequins, knocking it to the ground, and startled wrestling with it, punching it in the face repeatedly.

“Got it, Dad!” the young adult Unicorn said, horn glowing as she levitated several gemstones out of her saddlebags and flung them at the closest ponnequins, embedding them in their bodies. Her horn flashed again, and the gems exploded, ripping the ponnequins apart.

“Hey Amethyst, whichever one of us kills the fewest has to do the dishes!” the filly quipped as she levitated a strange-looking metal stick with a glowing bulb at the end and pointed it at one ponnequin after another, the bulb emitting strange energy waves that caused the ponnequins to dissolve in a puddle of goo on the floor.

“Ha, you’re on, Dinks!” the older Unicorn laughed as she floated several gemstones in a complex formation in front of her and fired a beam of light from her horn into one of the jewels, which refracted into more beams that pierced and reflected and refracted through other gems, creating dozens of lasers which shredded through the ponnequins, as well as a good chunk of the store.

“Wh-what in Equestria is going on?!” Fancypants cried.

“SAVE ME! SAVE YOUR PRINCE!” Blueblood shrieked, cowering behind Crackle, who just stood there with a stupid look on her face as the howling Pegasus swung her flail about, smashing and bashing the ponnequins around her to pieces. “I AM MORE IMPORTANT THAN EVERYPONY ELSE IN THIS ROOM, SO IT IS YOUR DUTY TO THROW YOURSELVES AT THESE MADPONIES AND SACRIFICE YOURSELVES SO I CAN GET TO SAFETY!”

“Oh, shut up,” Fleur growled in annoyance.

“Whatever’s happening, I didn’t do it!” Sweetie yelled.

“What…what are you doing?! STOP THIS AT ONCE! YOU’RE DESTROYING MY STORE, AND MY BEAUTIFUL DRESSES!” Rarity screamed, horn lighting up with a blinding flash of blue magic.

The four intruders suddenly found themselves paralyzed and floating off the floor, suspended in a blue aura. The older Unicorn sighed and shot the Pegasus an annoyed look. “I thought you said there wouldn’t be anyone in at this time of day, Mom.”

“Um…I don’t know what went wrong?” the Pegasus said sheepishly.

“I would facehoof if I could move my forelimb right now,” the Unicorn said deadpan.

“Oh…uh, hullo, Rarity, didn’t see you there. Who would have thought we’d run into you here…in your own shop…?” the Earth Pony stallion said nervously as Rarity stalked towards him, eye twitching, teeth grinding, and strands of her mane starting to pop out of place.

“Doctor,” Rarity said through clenched teeth. “You and your family broke through a wall and destroyed several of my very expensive ponnequins, including the even more expensive dresses that many of them were wearing, as well as the other damage you did to my shop in your frenzied little…whatever that was,” the white Unicorn said, waving a hoof at her storefront. The stallion grimaced as he saw the extent of the damage he’d caused. The windows and mirrors were broken, the carpet and curtains were shredded and burnt, most of the cloth swatches and display dresses had been ripped apart, and of course there were a number of rather mutilated ponnequins lying around the floor in various states of disrepair. “In a few minutes, you’ve cost me thousands of bits, most of which cannot be covered by insurance.”

“Fancypants can hoof the bill!” Blueblood shouted.

“What?!” Fancypants yelled.

“Now, I appreciate all the things you and your family have done for Equestria and Ponyville…” Rarity said.

“What have they done for Equestria and Ponyville?” Blueblood asked in confusion. “Who are they, and why should I care?”

“Are you daft, stallion? That’s the Doctor, his wife Derpy Hooves, and his daughters Amethyst Star and Ditzy Doo!” Fancypants said incredulously.

“Doctor Who?” Blueblood asked.

Amethyst Star, the older Unicorn mare, rolled her eyes. “Gee, never heard that one before.”

“You know, the Doctor? Alien that only looks like a pony that travels around time and space with his companions in a magical blue box that’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside? Has saved the world and the universe several times?” Fancypants prompted.

“Never heard of him,” Blueblood said.

“There’s books about him and his adventures! Plays! Radio shows! Statues! He has several stained glass windows dedicated to him in the castle!” Fancypants yelled.

“And very good likenesses of me, at that,” the Doctor said cheerfully, only to shut up when Rarity glared at him.

“I don’t really pay attention to those because I’m not in any of them,” Blueblood said. Fancypants facehooved.

“As I was saying…while I appreciate everything you and your family have done, Doctor…if you don’t have a very good explanation for destroying my store, and the bits necessary to fix it up, I’m going to personally drag you to the authorities for breaking and entering and destruction of property,” Rarity said with false sweetness, leaning in so close to the very nervous stallion that their noses were practically touching.

“Well, uh, as it so happens, I actually do have a very good explanation for what we were doing here,” the Doctor said.

“I’m listening,” Rarity said.

“Autons,” Derpy, the Pegasus (not that I needed to tell you that), said.

“Autons?” Rarity asked.

“Autons,” Amethyst Star said.

“What are Autons?” Fleur asked.

“And is there any chance for a Cutie Mark in them?” Sweetie Belle asked hopefully.

“No,” Dinky, the younger Unicorn, said.

“Awwwww,” Sweetie said in disappointment.

“Autons are a dangerous alien life-form. Plastic automatons animated by the Nestene Consciousness, disembodied gestalt intelligences. They infiltrate planets by disguising themselves as dummies, then killing and replacing figures in positions of power with plastic clones and build up armies so that they can take over, destroy the dominant species, and take the protein and plastic stores they need to survive,” the Doctor explained.

“I don’t suppose one ‘as already replaced Prince Blueblood?” Fleur joked.

“It would certainly explain a lot,” Fancypants agreed.

“Hey! I’m right here, you know!” Blueblood said indignantly.

“Yes, but we don’t care,” Fleur said. The prince ground his teeth and wondered if he should throw his pie at her instead. No, no, it was revenge against Rarity he wanted right now. Fleur and Fancypants could wait for another time.

“…And you tore up my store because…?” Rarity asked.

“Because all of your store’s ponnequins have been replaced by Autons, and we came to destroy them before they could replace you with one of their own and use your connections and store as a front to distribute their kind across Equestria and further their invasion plans,” the Doctor said.

Rarity frowned and looked at the ponnequin parts littering the floor. They didn’t look like evil alien robots…but then again, changelings didn’t look like changelings when disguised as ponies, and she’d learned the hard way not to dismiss something as outlandish-sounding as that just because it sounded…outlandish.

“This is ridiculous,” Blueblood snorted, getting out from behind Crackle and walking over to a mostly-intact ponnequin lying on the ground. He kicked it. Nothing happened. “You see?” he asked, turning around. “Harmless. This ‘Doctor’ is just a mad-“ He was interrupted when the ponnequin he’d just kicked suddenly lurched to its feet and wrapped its forelimbs around his neck. “AAAAAAHHHH! AAAAAAAHHHH! AAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

“Sacre bleu! It’s alive!” Fleur gasped in horror.

“And it’s not the only one!” Fancypants shouted in alarm as several of the other ponnequins came to life, staggering, lurching, or even dragging themselves across the floor towards the living ponies, depending on how badly the Doctor’s family had damaged them.

“Told you,” Dinky said.

“I don’t suppose you could let us down so we could-“ the Doctor started, only for Rarity to scream and reflexively fling him at the nearest Auton, knocking it back to the ground. “Okay, that works too.”

“OUR COVER HAS BEEN COMPROMISED,” one of the ponnequins said, face splitting open to form a mouth. “TERMINATE ALL ORGANIC LIFE-FORMS AND INITIATE DOPPLEGANGER PROTOCOL.”

“INITIATING TERMINATION MODE,” the other ponnequins said as their foreheads bulged outwards, forming horns that started glowing ominously. The glow lanced outwards, a couple dozen lethal laser beams arcing towards the horrified ponies…

“Not so fast!”

Until an array of gemstones floated into their paths, held in Amethyst Star’s magical field. The beams struck the gemstones, were refracted across their facets, bounced between each other, then shot right back at the Autons, piercing through several of them and knocking them back, smoking holes burned through their forms…

Holes which started to fill back up, as the mangled and mutilated body parts of the broken ponnequins started to repair themselves. A couple that had been ripped in half even grew new halves to replace what they’d lost, doubling their number.
“Are they supposed to do that?!” Rarity cried.

“They’re made of plastic, they’re not easy to kill!” the Doctor said as he whipped out a metal stick similar to Dinky’s and pointed it at an Auton. There was a buzzing sound, and suddenly the robot started melting. “Well, unless you’re me, anyway.”

“Or me,” Dinky said, levitating her stick in the air and firing energy beams from it that struck several Autons, causing them to twitch in agony and start dissolving as well.

“My word! Those are some rather useful contraptions. Are they those fabled ‘sonic screwdrivers’ I’ve heard so much about?” Fancypants asked, impressed.

“Yep! Well, mine’s sonic, hers is infrared,” the Doctor said, nodding at his daughter.

“…’ow can a screwdriver be sonic?” asked a confused Fleur. “Or infrared, for zat matter?”

“What, you’ve never been bored? Never had a long night, never had a lot of cabinets to put up, figured, ‘Hey, I bet this would be a lot easier if my screwdriver were more sonic! Or infrared?’” the Doctor asked as he liquefied another Auton.

“Not really, no,” Fleur said.

“I think it’s just you, dear,” Derpy said as she grabbed an Auton by the forelegs and ripped it in half, then smashed the two halves with her flail repeatedly until they splattered across the floor in piles of plastic that showed no signs of pulling themselves back together.

“Huh. Oh well,” the Doctor said as he lashed out with his hind legs at an Auton coming up behind him, knocking its head off. The robot kept coming at him even without its head, until a couch suspended in a glittering blue magical field was brought down on it repeatedly.

“I BRING YOU INTO MY HOME! I CLOTHE YOU IN SPLENDOR! AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!” Rarity screamed in fury as she smashed her couch on the Auton again and again.

A group of Autons advanced on Opalescence the cat, figuring they might as well kill her too, to make sure there were no witnesses. The cat, who’d been sunbathing on her pillow up till that point, lazily opened one eye and looked balefully at the robots. Her claws flashed through the air. She yawned and closed her eyes, rolling over on her belly. There was a pause, and then the Autons fell to pieces. They did not reassemble themselves and rise again.

“Do…do you think we should help, dear?” a disturbed Fancypants asked as he and Fleur stood on the sidelines, watching the fierce battle.

“DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!” Sweetie Belle screamed as an Auton stumbled by with the young Unicorn on its back, hitting it on the head repeatedly with a solid brick of what looked like charcoal but was actually her attempt at making breakfast that morning. (It was juice. Best not to think about it.)

Fleur stared as Amethyst Star drove more exploding gems into ponnequins, sending body parts flying. As Derpy tore Autons apart and smashed them with her flail and hooves with unparalleled savagery. As Dinky and her father melted robots with whatever was coming out of their screwdrivers. As Rarity used her couch as an assault weapon, and turned whatever was left of the fabric scattered around the room into ropes to trip or tie the Autons up to make it easier for the others to destroy them. As more and more body parts piled up around Opalescence, who seemed content to ignore everything going on around her unless an Auton got too close. “I…zink zey ‘ave everyzing well in ‘oof,” she said slowly.

“WILL SOMEPONY HELP ME?!” Blueblood screamed as he ran past, an Auton still on his back. Crackle, who’d been standing there placidly the whole time, ignoring the lasers being fired into her thick scales or the Autons trying to beat her to death with their hooves, obligingly set her husband on fire. “THAT’S NOT HELPING!” Blueblood screamed.

“Actually, I think the Auton is melting,” Fancypants observed as the robot on Blueblood’s back starting liquefying from the flames.

“YES, ON ME! AND I’M ON FIRE!” Blueblood pointed out very loudly. Fleur grabbed the fire extinguisher Rarity had used earlier and sprayed him with it, quickly putting out the fire. “Okay, now I’m covered in foam. I suppose that’s an improvement,” the prince said sullenly, spitting out some foam.

“Well, at least you’re still alive,” Fancypants said encouragingly. “And that Auton is dead.”

“That’s true,” Blueblood said, perking up. “And I’m still handsome as ever!”

Fancypants and Fleur stared at Blueblood uncertainly. Underneath the foam covering most of his body, a good deal of his coat and mane had been burnt off, there were burns on his face, his extremely expensive suit was in tatters, and there was a rather large lump of melted plastic fused to his back and sides. Tactfully, Fleur said, “Actually, you look completely ‘ideous.”

“What? That’s preposterous! I’m Prince Blueblood, I can’t be ‘ideous! I mean, hideous!” Blueblood cried in horror.

Fleur took out a hoof mirror and levitated it in front of the prince. He stared at the grotesque visage reflected back at him. He burst into tears. “Is it wrong zat I’m taking a perverse pleasure in zis?” Fleur muttered to her fiancé.

“Probably,” Fancypants muttered back. “I can’t help feeling the same way, though. I feel terrible about it.”

“I don’t,” Fleur said happily.

While this little drama was going on, Crackle dealt with the Autons attacking her by either rolling over and flattening them beneath her bulk or eating them. With those robots defeated, the other ponies had an easy job destroying the last remaining Autons, and took a moment to catch their breath in the ruins of Rarity’s workroom, which was even worse off now than it was before, what with the puddles of molten plastic everywhere, the utterly destroyed fabrics and dresses, the scorch marks and burns where lasers had impacted the walls and floor, and lots of broken glass which Sweetie Belle was getting a little too close to. “My beautiful Boutique…it’s ruined!” Rarity sobbed, collapsing back on her couch. “Those horrible robots destroyed everything!”

“Actually, didn’t you make that big hole in the wall over there when you threw a boudoir at an Auton and missed-“ Amethyst Star started.

“Those horrible robots destroyed everything!” Rarity repeated very loudly.

“Don’t worry, Fancypants is good for it,” Blueblood said quickly.

“Dash it all, Blueblood!” Fancypants snapped.

“What does Rainbow Dash have to do with anything?” Sweetie Belle asked innocently.

“Nozing, dear, it’s just an expression,” Fleur said.

“Oh, okay,” Sweetie said, not understanding in the slightest and going back to looking at how pretty the glass on the ground was with the light refracting through it.

“Well, at least it’s all over,” Blueblood said in relief. Once more, his thoughts went to the pie still in his saddlebags. Rarity was in the throes of abject despair. Giving her one more thing to be upset about right now would be incredibly cruel. Grinning sinisterly, his horn glowed…

Until the Doctor said, “Actually, I’m afraid we aren’t through yet.”

“We aren’t?” Blueblood asked in dismay.

“We aren’t?!” Rarity asked, distraught.

The Doctor nodded. “This was just a small victory. So long as the Nestene Consciousness exists, more Autons can be produced, and Equestria is still in danger. We need to resolve this problem at the source.”
Rarity considered this for a moment. “The source? I believe I ordered those ponnequins from a company called Auto Plastics…”

“An excellent guess, but wrong in this instance,” the Doctor said.

Derpy nodded. “We already checked them, they’re clean. The Autons replaced your ponnequins quite recently, probably while you were asleep.”

“They were in my home? While I was in bed?!” Rarity cried, aghast. A thrill of terror ran down her spine at the thought of what might have happened if she—or, heavens forbid, Sweetie—had gotten up in the middle of the night, wandered down to get a bite to eat…and walked in on a group of living ponnequins shambling around her workroom. She started hyperventilating at the idea of the horrible fate she or her sister had narrowly avoided.

“But how did they get in? Wouldn’t they have left signs of a break-in?” Fancypants asked reasonably.

“Ah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” the Doctor said smugly. “But that’s only, of course, if they actually broke in…and weren’t already here all along.”

“…What do you mean?” Rarity asked, already dreading the answer.

“What I mean, Miss Rarity, is that you have a bit of an infestation problem in your basement,” the Doctor said.

Rarity blinked. “But…this building doesn’t have a basement. I was thinking of putting one in, but I never got around to it…”

“You needn’t have bothered, the Autons did it for you. Dinky? Found the entrance yet?” the Doctor called to his youngest daughter.

Dinky, who’d been walking around the room pointing her infrared screwdriver at various objects, nodded and tapped on a wall. “Right here, Dad.”

The Doctor smiled. “Good girl. Now, there’s probably a secret switch that can be used to open the door…buuuuut since the Autons already know we’re onto them now and are no doubt mobilizing to attack us in full force, we don’t have time to find it. Derpy, if you would, please?”

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Derpy shouted as she charged at the indicated wall.

“No, wait! That’s a load-bearing-“ Rarity started, only to be ignored as Derpy smashed right through it. “Wall.”

“Well, since the building’s not coming down on us, I guess it’s not,” the Doctor said as he cheerfully trotted over to the hole his wife had made. “Everything good down there, Derpy?”

“I’m okay!” the Pegasus yelled from…what sounded like underground?

The Doctor beckoned to the others with a hoof. “Come on, then, you’ll want to take a look at this.”

Uneasily, everyone walked or waddled over and gazed into the hole in the wall. Much to Rarity’s surprise, on the other side was a long set of spiral stairs winding deep, deep, deep beneath the building. Derpy was sitting on a step several meters down, rubbing her head and checking her wings to make sure she hadn’t broken anything. “Okay, that wasn’t there when I got the Boutique,” Rarity said.

“Seems as if those Autons have been doing some renovations,” Fancypants noted. “And without your permission too, the cads!”

“It looks as if you’ve got some tenants who’ve been skimping on their rent,” Fleur added.

Rarity narrowed her eyes. “Then it looks like I have some eviction notices to hand out. How are we going to deal with this, Doctor?”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “’We,’ Ms. Rarity?”

“This is my home and place of business, Doctor. I refuse to let you go down there and do…Celestia-knows-what without my being there! I have a stake in this, too!” Rarity insisted.

The Doctor shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Can I come too, Rarity?” Sweetie Belle asked hopefully. “Maybe I’ll get an Auton-Killing Cutie Mark!”

“Did you get a Cutie Mark for defeating that one Auton by hitting it repeatedly with your breakfast?” Rarity asked.

Sweetie Belle checked her rear end. There was no Cutie Mark there. “No,” she said in disappointment.

“Then that means it’s probably not your special talent,” Rarity said.

“…Well…maybe I just need to kill more?” Sweetie asked hopefully.

“No,” Rarity said flatly.

“You should probably go and alert the authorities,” Fancypants said to try and cheer Sweetie Belle up. “In case things go south down there, someone up here needs to know what’s happened.”

“Ooh! Could I get an ‘alerting-the-authorities’ Cutie Mark?” Sweetie asked hopefully.

“…Possibly…” Fancypants said uncertainly.

“What would that even look like, anyway?” Blueblood wondered. Crackle grunted and started chewing on the melted plastic on his back.

“Fancypants, Fleur, could you please take care of Sweetie for me?” Rarity asked her friends. “I know it’s unlikely that anything will happen to her up here, but-“

“I’m sorry, Ms. Rarity, but I must respectfully refuse. We’re coming with you,” Fancypants said.

“You are?!” Rarity cried in surprise.

“You are?!” Blueblood cried in surprise.

“He is?!” Sweetie cried.

Fleur nodded. “You are our friend, Rarity, and we cannot in good faizh let you wander into ze Gates of Tartarus on your own.”

“She won’t be on her own, she’ll have us!” the Doctor said, indicating himself and his family.

“…No offense, but I’m not certain I trust ‘er alone wiz you,” Fleur said apologetically. “According to ze stories, many of ze ponies who ‘appen to join you on your adventures tend to…die…”

The Doctor opened his mouth to protest, then slumped, ears flattening against his head. “A fair point…” he muttered. Dinky touched her father’s foreleg, while Amethyst Star glared at Fleur.

“Rarity could die?!” Sweetie cried.

“Don’t worry, dear, I have no intention of dying. This isn’t the first tough spot I’ve gotten out of,” Rarity assured her sister.

“I don’t think the robots will let you go if you whine at them a lot,” Sweetie said.

“I have far more resources available to me than just whining, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity said with a huff. She paused, and then added, “I wasn’t whining, I was complaining.”

“You’re going along with this?” Blueblood asked Fancypants and Fleur incredulously. “But you didn’t do anything to help out when those awful robots came to life! What good would you be down there?”

“Tout à fait un peu plus que vous ne le ferait, je fais le pari,” Fleur muttered under her breath.

“We didn’t do anything because it looked like the others had things well in hand,” Fancypants explained. “But if there’s going to be more Autons down there, and I suspect there will be, it can’t hurt for us to go along and help out. It wouldn’t be the first time Fleur and I have fought off an army of assailants. Remember those mercenaries your ex-boyfriend sent against us when we last visited your parents, dearest?”

“Or zose Griffon pirates when we went on zat airship cruise on our anniversary,” Fleur reminisced fondly.

“Or those fashion ninjas that attacked your show when we first met, and I asked you out on a date after I helped you defeat the lot of them, and I had to defeat you in battle before you’d even consider it,” Fancypants said, smiling at his fiancé. “Good times, good times…”

“…Fashion ninjas?” Blueblood asked.

“Trust me, mate, you’re better off not knowing,” the Doctor said.

Rarity nodded. “Yes, I’ve had to deal with a few sent by rival dressmakers to try and steal some of my designs. They’re quite a nuisance in this industry.”

“Ah,” Blueblood said vaguely. “Well, uh, while you go and walk into the dragon’s den-“

“I thought they were plastic robots,” Sweetie said. “If you want to go to a dragon’s den, you should go to Smokey Mountain, or that cave in the Everfree, or Golden Oaks Library, or-“

Blueblood rolled his eyes. “Plastic robot’s den. Crackle and I will stay behind and, uh, watch this adorable little ragamuffin of an illegitimate daughter of yours.”

“Muffins?” Derpy asked, perking up.

“Not that kind, mom,” Dinky said, much to the Pegasus’s disappointment.

“She’s my sister,” Rarity said icily.

Blueblood smiled and winked. “Riiiiiight. Of course she is.” Then again, maybe she is. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’d slept with her father, the inbred hick, he thought to himself.

“That’s probably a good idea,” the Doctor agreed.

“Yeah, you probably would only get in the way anyway,” Amethyst Star said.

Blueblood hesitated. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well, uh, no offense, old chap, but you didn’t exactly put up the best showing against those Autons,” Fancypants said. “You don’t have nearly the combat experience that the rest of us have, so-“

“I took Dueling classes! And fencing! And jousting!” Blueblood protested, neglecting to mention that said Duels had been of the children’s card game variety, his fencing involved learning how to make fences, and he had always gotten the hay beaten out of him in jousting.

“And that’s all very well and good, but these are real monsters trying to kill us, not students just playing around,” Fancypants said gently. “There’s a chance you might get hurt. You should probably sit this one out.”

Oh, Blueblood. It was unsaid, but still implied.

Blueblood’s blood—which was not, in fact, blue, despite his name—boiled. Nopony believed in him. Nopony thought he could ever succeed at anything. All they ever saw when they looked at him was a disappointment and an embarrassment, something to laugh at and feel sorry for.

No more!

“Out of my way!” Blueblood shouted, shoving past Fancypants and nearly kicking Dinky as he stormed towards the hole in the wall.

“Blueblood, what are you-“ Fleur started.

“I am a Prince of Equestria! I shall not cower behind others and stay behind while my kingdom is in danger!” Blueblood declared as he carefully stepped into the hole and started down the stairs. “I shall show those worthless robots what happens when they try to invade my country! Come, Crackle!”

The dragon obediently got up and waddled after her husband, smashing through the wall and making an even bigger hole. And then one of her many feet tripped on the stairs, and she started falling. She barreled into Blueblood, and then both of them tumbled down the steps, Blueblood screaming in terror and agony as he rolled down the stairs, Crackle’s weight pressing against him and slamming his face into each and every individual step. Derpy barely managed to avoid getting caught in their fall by flying up out of the way just in time, allowing the mixed ball of dragon and Unicorn to continue down the winding spiral, Blueblood screaming curses and obscenities that Sweetie Belle probably wasn’t supposed to hear all the way down. Eventually, he faded into silence.

“That must be a very long staircase,” the Doctor observed.

“Looks that way,” Amethyst Star agreed.

Fancypants sighed. “This is why I said he should stay behind…”

“You tried, dear, it’s not ‘is fault ‘e is a complete and utter imbecile,” Fleur said consolingly.

There was a pause. “We…should probably go down there and save him, shouldn’t we?” Rarity asked reluctantly.

The Doctor sighed and nodded. “Yes, we should. Come along, then!” He hopped into the hole and started down the stairs, followed by his children.

“How come Dinky can go but I can’t?” Sweetie Belle whined. “She doesn’t have a Cutie Mark, either!” She frowned. “…Although I get the strange feeling I’ve seen her with a Mark before…several different ones, in fact…”

“I do have a Cutie Mark, but it’s a Gallopfreyan character meaning my true name so there’s a perception filter over it to keep anyone from using it against me, which is why you think you saw me with other Marks, or none at all,” Dinky explained, pausing to look back at Sweetie Belle. “Plus, I’m actually a lot older than I look, and have killed more monsters than exist in your worst nightmares, so I’m a little more qualified for this than you are.”

“Oh,” Sweetie said. “Wait, so your name’s not actually Dinky?”

“No more than my Dad’s name is actually ‘The Doctor,’” Dinky said, giving the other Unicorn a new thought to chew on.

“Now, now, Sweetie, don’t feel too bad. Remember, you still have an important part to play,” Rarity consoled her sister.

“Going for help?” Sweetie asked gloomily.

“Going for help,” Rarity agreed. “Now, get going. Oh, and take Opal with you, the poor dear’s probably terrified after all this, and it might be good to get her away from here.”

Sweetie stared at the cat, currently licking herself, surrounded by a rather large heap of Auton parts. “…Yeah. Terrified. That’s what that looks like.”

“Excellent! I knew I could count on you,” Rarity said, kissing her sister on the forehead before turning back to Fleur and Fancypants. “All right then, shall we?”

Fleur smiled. “Allons-y!”

“That’s my line!” the Doctor called up from down the stairs.

In Which a Big Brouhaha Ensues
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Blueblood's Big Bad Bloody Brilliant Brouhaha

In Which a Big Brouhaha Ensues

“So, what, exactly, is our plan, then?” Rarity asked as the party headed down the stairs, the way lit by the Unicorn’s horns and the Doctor and Dinky’s screwdrivers. They’d found Blueblood and Crackle lying in a daze about halfway down (Well, Blueblood was dazed, Crackle was trying to eat his mane), and the royal couple were now lagging behind, Blueblood already wondering what in Equestria he’d been thinking deciding to come down here and pondering whether he could possibly turn back without looking like a colossal coward. Crackle wasn’t thinking anything at all, but this was hardly unusual.

“You do ‘ave a plan, right?” Fleur asked.

“Of course I have a plan. I always have a plan,” the Doctor said.

“Don’t you usually make it up as you go, dear?” Derpy asked.

“Still counts as a plan,” the Doctor grunted. “But this is not one of those occasions. Here is how we are going to deal with the Autons. First, we will try diplomacy.”

“Diplomacy?!” Blueblood screamed incredulously. “They’re evil alien robots who want to destroy Equestria! There’s no reasoning with them!”

“Isn’t this country supposed to be the land of harmony and friendship?” the Doctor asked. “No matter how hostile they might seem, we should at least try to see if a peaceful solution can be found. After all, your kind wouldn’t have made peace treaties with the griffons, the diamond dogs, the dragons, or the changelings if you hadn’t given them the benefit of the doubt, eh?”

“The griffons only made peace with us because they’re too busy constantly fighting each other to bother with us, we terrified all but the stupidest and greediest of diamond dogs into leaving us alone, the dragons didn’t even have a nation until recently and before that they were so greedy and lazy they didn’t even deign to notice us unless they thought we had something they wanted so kept to themselves, and technically we’re still at war with the changelings even though we have a sizable number of refugees from several hives living within our borders,” Fancypants pointed out.

“…Right. Well. Still, we’re going to give peace a chance,” the Doctor said, looking disgruntled.

“While I am loath to forgive those horrible creatures after living right under my nose for so long, I suppose you have a point,” Rarity said reluctantly. “But what sort of peace could we possibly broker with them? Don’t they want to destroy us and plunder our world?”

“The Autons lost their food supply due to several of their planets rotting away, hence why they’re invading other worlds,” the Doctor explained. “However, I know of plenty of uninhabited planets chock-full of the materials they need to survive, so if I can convince the Nestene Consciousness to leave this world alone, I can transport them all there in the TARDIS and give them a fresh start.”

“And you really think they’ll accept that offer?” Blueblood scoffed.

“I’ve made that offer to countless invading species,” the Doctor said, miffed.

“Uh-huh. And how many actually took you up on that offer?” Blueblood asked.

“…Far fewer than I would like…” the Doctor said quietly. Derpy put a consoling wing over her husband’s shoulders.

Shooting Blueblood a glare, Rarity asked, “So what do we do if they refuse?”

“We brought a compound my dad whipped up called ‘anti-plastic,’” Amethyst Star said, patting her saddlebags, still full of gemstones. “As the name implies, it destroys plastic.”

“Which the Autons, and presumably this Nestene thing are made of,” Fancypants guessed.

Amethyst Star nodded. “That’s right.”

“All we have to do is dump it in the Consciousness, and the Autons are done for,” Dinky said. “When it dies, so do the Autons.”

“And we aren’t doing this right off the bat because…?” Blueblood asked.

“Because I already have enough blood on my hooves as is, and don’t want to add anymore to them if I don’t have to,” the Doctor said grimly. Derpy nuzzled him, and he managed a faint smile.

“But they don’t even have blood, they’re made of plastic…” Blueblood grumbled to himself. Everyone glared at him, and he shut up.

“I see a light up ahead. We must be almost at ze bottom,” Fleur commented.

“Right. Everyone, get ready. This might get messy…” the Doctor said as the nine of them reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the light…

And found themselves in a massive cavern. The first thing Rarity wondered was how the Autons had managed to carve such a huge space out beneath her home without her noticing. The second thing she noticed was the hundreds of ponnequins standing about the chamber, who turned their heads towards the ponies (and dragon) as they entered the chamber. The third and final thing she noticed was the source of the light in the cave, a giant pool of what looked initially like lava but was, in fact, molten plastic. It was bubbling and seething and churning, and Rarity couldn’t help but get the unsettling feeling that something in it was looking at her.

“Th-that’s a lot of Autons,” Blueblood said nervously.

“More than I’d anticipated,” said a concerned Fancypants. “Too late for retreat now, though.”

“What do you mean, ze exit’s right…zere…oh,” Fleur said, noticing that the Autons had closed ranks behind them, preventing them from escaping.

“Nopony or dragon panic, just follow my lead,” the Doctor murmured. He cleared his throat and loudly said, “I seek audience with the Nestene Consciousness under the peaceful contract, according to Convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation!”

There was a pause. Much to the astonishment of everyone who didn’t interact with the Doctor on a regular basis (but not Crackle), the Autons directly in front of them moved to the side, clearing a path to the big pool of plastic. “That actually worked?!” Blueblood said in disbelief.

“Told you diplomacy was worth a shot, mate,” the Doctor said with a smirk. Addressing the pool, he said, “Thank you. May we have permission to approach, please?” There was no response except for an increased bubbling of the pool, but that seemed to be good enough for the Doctor, who nodded at the others. “All right, you lot, stay close to me, and whatever you do, don’t antagonize the Autons.”

“He’s talking to you, Blueblood,” Fleur said to the Prince as they cautiously walked down the aisle of eerie, faceless automatons.

“Hey! How do you know he’s not referring to Crackle?” Blueblood asked angrily.

“Actually, I was referring to both of you,” the Doctor said.

“There, you see?” Blueblood asked smugly. There was a pause. “Wait…”

It took a few minutes for them to cross the cavern. Once they’d reached the center, the heat rising from the molten plastic was sweltering. Sweat rolled down their flanks, and Rarity’s hair got all stringy, much to her dismay. Fleur, on the other hoof, seemed to be positively glowing, much to her frustration and envy. “Am I addressing the Consciousness?” the Doctor asked the pool.

“Who is he talking to?” Blueblood whispered.

“The Consciousness is in the pool,” Derpy whispered back.

“It is?” Blueblood asked. Abruptly, the surface of the pool churned and a large mass of liquid plastic rose upwards, an extremely crude face forming on its front, nothing more than a mouth and a pair of depressions that might have been eyes. “Oh,” he said weakly. “So it is.”

“Oh my…” Rarity said faintly.

“Huh. I’m getting flashbacks to that lava demon we ran into when we vacationed in Haywaii,” Fancypants commented.

Fleur nodded. “Yes, but at least ‘is minions ‘ad faces.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said to the plastic. “If I might observe, you infiltrated this civilization by means of warp-shield technology, so may I suggest with the greatest respect that you shut it off?”

The plastic roared, causing everyone but the Doctor’s family and Crackle to jump in surprise. “I’m guessing that’s a no?” Rarity asked faintly.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Amethyst Star said, a glow building around her horn in preparation for her task.

“I didn’t even know plastic could make that sound,” Fancypants commented. “Huh. Learn something new every day.”

“Eeeee,” Blueblood squeaked in terror.

“Oh don’t give me that, it’s an invasion, plain and simple!” the Doctor chided the Nestlene Consciousness. “Don’t talk to me about constitutional rights!” The Consciousness roared and thrashed about angrily, causing roiling waves of molten plastic to lap at the edges of the pool. The ponies took a few steps back to keep from getting any of it splashed on them.

“That thing has constitutional rights?!” Blueblood demanded. “Since when?!”

“Not your constitution. It’s a space thing. Be quiet,” Dinky hissed.

“’ow did he get all zat from one roar?” Fleur wondered in amazement.

“My Raggedy Doctor’s fluent in millions of languages,” Derpy said proudly.

“Really? That’s quite impressive,” said the impressed Fancypants. “I only know a few dozen myself.”

“Well, actually, he doesn’t use his polyglot skills so much as relying on the TARDIS’s telepathically-based universal translation system,” Amethyst Star clarified. “But even when that’s not working, he’s still able to understand pretty much everything he comes across. He’s been around long enough, after all.”

“How long?” Rarity asked.

Amethyst Star shrugged. “Well, when you’re a time traveler, it gets a wee bit difficult to actually keep track of your age, especially when you spend so much of it in a vessel where time doesn’t quite work the same way it does in the rest of the universe. Dad says he’s around nine hundred years old, but he never said years on which planet—they aren’t all the same length, understandably--and we’re pretty sure he’s just guessing or rounding down to make himself seem younger.”

“Nine hundred years old?!” Rarity said in astonishment.

“I don’t suppose I could get some of whatever treatment ‘e’s getting to make ‘imself keep looking so young and virile?” Fleur wondered enviously, echoing Rarity’s own thoughts at the moment.

“What?! He can’t possibly be that old!” Blueblood said incredulously. “Why, he doesn’t look a day over sixty-five!”

“…Seriously?!” the Doctor said, rather insulted.

“I don’t know…Princess Celestia is thousands of years old, at the very least, but she doesn’t look it in the slightest, does she?” Fancypants said.

“…True…” Blueblood admitted reluctantly. “But this ‘Doctor’ isn’t a living goddess!”

“No, but he’s an alien, and everyone knows they sometimes have…very strange biologies,” Fancypants said.

“All right, I guess that’s true…but if he’s an alien, why does he look like a pony?” Blueblood asked.

“I don’t look like a pony, you look like a Time Charger! And I AM TALKING!” the Doctor shouted as the Consciousness kept roaring, causing it to abruptly shut up.

Blueblood stared at the stallion in amazement. What kind of pony is this, who can make a horrible monster stop just by yelling at it?! Or was it us he was yelling at?

“This planet is just starting,” the Doctor continued. “These magnificent little ponies have only just learned how to fly-“

“Pegasi have been flying for thousands of years-“ Rarity protested until Derpy shushed her.

“They’re capable of so much more, and I’m asking you, on their behalf, please, just go,” the Doctor said. The Consciousness roared again. The Doctor frowned. “I’m here to help. I’m not your enemy! I swear, I’m not!” The series of angry roars the Consciousness uttered seemed to indicate it didn’t believe him…and from the startled look on the Doctor’s face, it seemed as if it was saying something else as well, something he didn’t want to hear. “That’s…that’s not true! I should know, I was there! I fought in the war, it wasn’t my fault!” The Consciousness roared again, loudly and angrily enough to shake the cavern. “I couldn’t save your world, I couldn’t save any of them!” the Doctor cried. Derpy, Amethyst Star, and Dinky exchanged alarmed looks when they saw tears starting to form in the Doctor’s eyes, and they quickly closed ranks around him, leaning close to him and sharing their body warmth with him.

“What is he talking about?!” Blueblood hissed.

Fancypants frowned, a grave look on his face. “The stories say that the Doctor is the last of his kind, that his people and planet were destroyed in a horrible war spanning entire galaxies…a war that wiped out entire civilizations and peoples. I guess these Autons were affected by it as well.”

“What? A war? How come it never touched us?” Blueblood asked.

“It’s a very big universe, and you were very lucky,” Dinky said. “There are more worlds out there than Equestria. Most of them don’t even know this planet exists. Pray that they continue not to know. You might not like it if they came knocking. They’d want a lot more than a cup of sugar.”

The Consciousness roared some more. The Doctor sagged in defeat. “…I see. You will not leave. In that case, you leave me no other choice.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Amethyst Star, use the anti-plastic.”

Amethyst Star’s horn glowed and a vial full of a dark liquid floated out of her saddlebags. The Consciousness reeled back in horror as she hurled the vial at it…

And then a forked tongue lashed out, snatched the vial out of the air, and yanked it into Crackle’s mouth, who happily swallowed it.

Everyone stared at the dragon in horror. “No,” the Doctor whispered.

Blueblood squealed shrilly. “NO! GIVE THAT BACK! WE NEEDED THAT, YOU STUPID DRAGON!” he screamed, rushing over to Crackle, prying open her jaws, and sticking his head in her mouth to see if he could find the anti-plastic before it was digested. Naturally, Crackle’s jaws slammed shut on her husband’s head, and she started flailing the screaming Unicorn prince about like a ragdoll before spitting him out, causing him to fly through the air and smash into some of the Autons, bowling them over. “Ow.”

“I don’t suppose you had a second vial?” Rarity asked hopefully as the Nestene Consciousness bellowed and the Autons advanced towards them, growing horns that began to glow.

“It’s very difficult to make anti-plastic. We only had time to make the one vial,” Amethyst Star said bleakly.

“Can’t you do whatever trick you did with those screwdrivers of yours to melt the thing?” Fancypants asked.

Dinky shook her head. “There’s too much plastic. Our screwdrivers aren’t strong enough to break down the chemical bonds of something that big.”

“Ah. Then…what do we do now, exactly?” Rarity asked timorously.

“Why, isn’t it obvious?” Fancypants said with a smirk.

“We fight!” Fleur agreed.

“…Heh. I guess that’s as good an option as anything else,” the Doctor said, a fire of determination lighting in his eyes. “All right, everyone! They want this planet, they’ll have to pry it from our cold, dead hooves!”

“Um, I’d really rather not die, if it’s all the same to you-“ Blueblood said meekly.

“ALLONS-YYYYYYYY!” the Doctor shouted as he charged the Auton horde, followed closely by his family, Rarity, Fancypants and Fleur. Crackle blinked out of sync, farted, then waddled off aimlessly.

“DON’T LEAVE MEEEEEEE!” Blueblood screamed, chasing after the others as the Autons he’d knocked over started to get up and shoot at him.

The next several minutes passed in a blur as the eight ponies and one dragon (okay, seven ponies and one dragon, since Blueblood spent most of the time running and screaming his head off) engaged the Auton forces in battle. “Haha, can’t catch me, can’t catch me!” the Doctor taunted as he dashed about, using his (apparent) Earth Pony physiology to run tirelessly all over the place, zigging and zagging and taking sharp turns that caused the pursuing Autons to keep tripping over each other and falling and getting trampled by their fellows, who kept firing laser blasts from their horns. “Ha! Too slow! I’m the best at running from monsters there is! Well, except for this one chap who lives on a disc-shaped planet on the back of four giant elephants on the back of a giant sea turtle drifting through space. Bit of an ill-fortuned bloke, always finding himself in trouble no matter where he goes. A bit like me, I suppose, except I enjoy it!” the Doctor shouted as he nimbly sidestepped the blasts, firing short bursts from his sonic screwdriver and causing the nearest Autons to melt.

An Auton lunged at him from behind, but he rolled out of the way and lashed out with a foreleg as he rose to his hooves, knocking the robot’s head off its body and sending it flying. The decapitated body still rose on its legs, only to fall back down in a puddle when the Doctor melted it with his screwdriver. Four Autons charged at him from either side, lowering their horns to gore him. The Doctor crouched down and pushed off with his legs, launching himself into the air, causing the Autons to collide, getting their horns stuck in each other. He brought his full weight down on them as he landed, smashing them into the ground and splattering them into goo. Shaking his coat to get the plastic off, he whirled about in a circle as a ring of Autons charged him, screwdriver buzzing as one by one, they melted into goo. The next wave of Autons kept out of range of the Doctor’s screwdriver, lowered their heads, and started firing lasers from their horns. The Doctor twisted and undulated wildly through the air to dodge the lasers, looking not unlike Twilight Sparkle whenever she tried to dance. “Hoo! Ha! Huh! Ho!” the Doctor hooted as he jumped and spun and extremely inelegantly evaded the blasts, causing the shots to fly right by him and strike Autons on the opposite side of the ring, swiftly reducing the number of robots as they kept wiping each other out through friendly fire. “Is that all you’ve got? Come on, Imperial Stormtroopers have better aim than that! Well, okay, not really, and in all fairness it is actually extremely difficult to hit a moving target, and I’ve heard that the average soldier in most conflicts needs to fire two hundred rounds for every hit scored by an enemy, and you aren’t even listening to me rambling, are you?”

The Autons responded by having six of their number get together, touch their horns, and combine their power to fire an absolutely massive laser at the Doctor. “Ah. Yeah, that’s a problem.” He quickly brought up his screwdriver and pointed it at the laser blast, the energy waves it emitted slowing the blast down…but it kept coming, and from the sweat rolling down the Doctor’s sides as he struggled to keep it at bay, it was clear he couldn’t hold it back much longer. And to make matters worse, more Autons were approaching from behind him, their own horns glowing as they powered up their lasers. This might get a bit dicey, he thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, shut off his screwdriver, and rolled to the side. The massive laser blast shot by him, passing so close that it singed some of his coat and caused him to wince, and kept going until it plowed into the Autons behind the Doctor, vaporizing them, and several dozen more behind them, in a flash as the beam kept going until it struck the wall, shaking the cavern and causing rocks to start falling from the ceiling, crushing several Autons, including the ones who’d fired the giant laser in the first place. “I meant to do that!” the Doctor shouted in case anyone was listening. They weren’t. He scowled. “What’s the point of being clever if there’s nopony to notice me doing it? Bah. Oh well.” He wandered off to go and be clever somewhere else. Maybe one of the others would be there too and could see him doing it.

Shouting incoherent battle cries, Derpy plowed through the ranks of Autons, swinging her war flail, lashing out with fore- and hindhoof, and whipping her wings through the air, her surprisingly sharp wingtips slicing through Auton plastic like a hot knife through butter. Several Autons tried to attack her from behind or the sides, only for her unusual eyes to spot them before they could strike, allowing her to take them out with furious and punishing blows from her flail or hindlegs. Realizing she was too dangerous to fight in close corners, the Autons backed off, lowered their horns, and started firing lasers at her. Derpy wildly spun about, swinging her flail through the air, the spiked ball at the end somehow managing to intercept every blast before it could strike her and deflect it towards one of the Autons, knocking them back. It was astonishing how she always seemed to be able to swing the weapon just right so that it could catch and return a laser blast just before it could strike her. It was almost as if she was always able to know ahead of time where and when an attack would be coming from…but surely that was impossible, wasn’t it?

It was impossible. Well, impossible for someone whose eyes hadn’t stared directly into the Untempered Schism and gained the power to see in more than one dimension, anyway. As more Autons marched up to replace their fallen comrades, who were lying on piles on the ground, melted from their own laser strikes, Derpy spread her wings and flapped down hard, both launching herself into the air and generating a massive burst of air which blasted the Autons back. Lifting herself far above the battlefield, she channeled her natural Pegasus magic into her wings and started flapping even harder, each downstroke of a wing generating a hurricane-force gust of wind which blew the Autons back, smashing them against the walls and each other. When they regrouped and stared firing lasers up at her, she started juking and dodging through the air, her flight pattern looking almost nauseatingly erratic and yet somehow allowing her to evade each laser blast only milliseconds before it could strike her. Tilting her wings so she was flying almost sideways in the air, she started turning in a wide circle around the Autons on the ground, going faster and faster and kicking up more and more wind until she generated a tornado, with the plastic robots in the center. The wind raised the Autons in the air, spinning and bashing them about as they frantically fired lasers, only to hit each other or nothing. There was a flash of gray, and Derpy entered her own whirlwind, flowing with the wind currents and smashing into every Auton that got in her way, her speed and strength so great they were splattered to pieces on impact with her hooves and flail.

Eventually, the winds died down, and the Autons were hurtled all over the cavern, thrown with such force they splattered upon impact with the ground. Derpy smirked…

And yelped as a laser blast nearly struck her from behind. She whirled around to see that a number of Autons had sprouted wings and had flown up to engage her. Derpy’s eyes narrowed. “Huh. So you’re trying to emulate changelings, now? Or maybe Alicorns?” She grinned. “Well, you made a big mistake coming up here to fight me. I may not be as great a flyer as Rainbow Dash…but I’ve learned a trick or two from Commander Hurricane, the greatest warrior who ever lived, and I’ll show you why you should never have gotten off the ground to fight me!” Shouting, she charged the airborne Autons.

Amethyst Star calmly walked through the Autons, a casual smile on her lovely features as dozens of gems spun around her, dazzling and glittering magnificently as the robots fired lasers at her, only for the blasts to be refracted and reflected through the gems and back at them. Any Auton that gave up on shooting at her and tried charging quickly regretted it when the outer rings of jewels orbiting her started spinning faster, their finely-cut edges slicing through the robots and turning them into plastic ribbons in seconds. “Ha. Pathetic. Cyberponies put up more of a fight than these things.” With a flick of her horn, several of her gemstones shot outwards, burying themselves in the chests of the Autons. They staggered back, and then exploded as Amethyst Star sent magical charges into the gemstones, obliterating them.

Her horn glowed again, and most of her gemstones peeled off, leaving her with about half a dozen left rapidly orbiting her for protection, and arranged them in a dome-shaped lattice caging several dozen Autons. She fired a blast from her horn at one of the gems, and the jewel refracted the spell, causing beams to shoot at the gems surrounding it, causing beams to shoot from those gems, and the gems surrounding them, and the gems surrounding them, and so on and so forth until the entire dome was now a web of light. A web that turned inwards, beams of energy firing from every gem and bathing the Autons in a massive blast of light that reduced them all to ashes.

Behind her, about a dozen or so Autons joined their horns together, trying to combine their power and form a laser big and strong enough to overwhelm her gems. Sensing the buildup of power, Amethyst Star quickly pulled her gems back, arranged them in a complex circular pattern in front of her, and fired a blast from her horn into the one at the center. The central jewel refracted the blast into all of the surrounding jewels, causing them all to glow and fire lasers in unison, melding together into an absolutely massive beam at the same time that the Autons fired their own, equally massive beam. The two beams collided with each other, energy crackling outwards and pulsing across the floor as they struggled to overcome each other. At the moment, they seemed evenly matched.

Amethyst Star wouldn’t have any of that. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw more Autons had formed up behind her and lowered their horns. She waited until they fired, then quickly had her half-dozen defense jewels intercept the blasts and deflect them into her larger gem array, adding the energy to the laser she was firing and giving it just the boost it needed to overwhelm the blast the Autons were firing and obliterate them, and every Auton behind them all the way to the edge of the cavern, in a blinding flash. “Diamonds really are a mare’s best friend,” she quipped as she disassembled her array and turned her attention to the Autons that had tried to sneak attack her. “And rubies, and emeralds, and sapphires, and topazes, and amethysts, and opals, and citrines…”

Dinky was the smallest and (appearance-wise, anyway) the youngest of the ponies. One could easily be led to believe she was the weakest and most vulnerable.

They would also be wrong. “Hmmph. I’m not impressed,” she said as she casually walked through the ranks of the robots, her screwdriver held aloft in her magical field and constantly twirling around, emitting frequencies that liquefied every Auton that got too close in seconds. Autons that kept their distance and fired lasers always seemed to miss, even when she didn’t look as if she was actually dodging. It was very strange…it often looked as if she got hit, but then her horn glowed, and then she hadn’t been. She didn’t heal herself. The Nestene Consciousness controlling the Autons clearly remembered the shots impacting…

And then they didn’t, because they’d missed. They’d always missed. Except that they hadn’t always missed before five seconds ago. “Hmm. This is taking too long,” Dinky commented, an annoyed look crossing her face as more and more Autons kept coming. “Let’s do something about that, shall we?”

Her horn glowed…

And suddenly, a purple and yellow streak dashed through the Autons, the robots feeling several light, but still quite forceful blows impact against several spots on their forms in rapid succession. After ten seconds, the streak resolved itself into Dinky, standing right where she had been at the start. The robots twitched and shook and suddenly splattered all over the floor. “Heh. Love that trick.” She raised her eyebrows when several dozen Autons formed up in a ring around her and lowered their horns. “Oh? Time for another trick.” She waited until the last second, and then, just as the Autons fired, her horn glowed…

And suddenly, the lasers froze in place. As did the Autons, and everything else in the cavern. Her time freeze in full effect, Dinky walked to each suspended laser blast and tapped it with her horn, causing it to flip around in the air so that it was pointing back at the Autons. Once she’d done this to each projectile, she walked back to where she’d started and released her spell. The lasers shot forwards…

And struck the Autons who’d fired them in the first place. “Heh. That one never gets old either,” Dinky chuckled as the robots collapsed to the ground. “Now, who’s next-“

Without warning, a winged Auton dropped down from the sky and drove its hooves into her back, smashing her into the ground and breaking her spine. The Unicorn filly cried out in pain as the robot raised a hoof, preparing to bring it down on her skull…

And her horn glowed.

…lluks reh no nwod ti gnirb ot gniraperp ,fooh a desiar tobor eht sa niap ni tuo deirc yllif nrocinU ehT .enips reh gnikaerb dna dnuorg eht otni reh gnihsams ,kcab reh otni sevooh sti evord dna yks eht morf nwod deppord notuA degniw a ,gninraw tuohtiW

Her horn stopped glowing.

Without warning, a winged Auton dropped down from the sky. Dinky quickly sidestepped it, causing its hooves to smash into the ground, then drove her screwdriver into its side and fired it at point-blank range, causing it to dissolve instantly. Dinky grimaced as the robot melted away. “That trick, on the other hand, I wish I didn’t have to do so often.”

Fancypants and Fleur were back-to-back, surrounded by murderous Autons, and having the time of their lives. “This brings back memories, doesn’t it, dearest?” Fancypants said as he grabbed two Autons, smashed their heads together so hard they splattered, and fired a blast from his horn at an Auton about to do the same thing, causing its head to explode.

“Yes, of our zird date,” Fleur said as she gracefully danced about, lashing out with hoof and horn and knocking her assailants back, her lithe form elegantly twisting through the air to dodge the hoofs and laser blasts of the Autons, not even a single hair on her body or long mane getting scratched.

“We were attacked by…what was it, mobsters? Diamond dogs? Changelings?” Fancypants tried to recall as he levitated an Auton in his magical field and turned it on its comrades, using the laser from its horn to mow the robots down.

“Your evil ex-girlfriends,” Fleur said as she leaped on an Auton’s back, wrapped her arms around its neck, and spurred it in the sides, sending it running about, frantically firing lasers from its horn and blasting whatever Fleur wanted it to, namely, other Autons.

“Right, them,” Fancypants said as he ripped an Auton’s head off with his forehooves, charged it with his horn, then punted it at a group of Autons charging at him, causing it to explode and rip the robots apart. “I’m glad that we were able to come to an amicable arrangement with them rather than you having to kill them all.”

“You know I would ‘ave, right?” Fleur asked as she snapped an Auton’s neck and lashed out with a hindleg at one sneaking up behind her, putting a hole through its chest.

“Yes, and I would have found it very alluring,” Fancypants said as he telekinetically ripped a rather sizable chunk of rock out of the ground and used it to start smashing Autons to death. “Even so, I’m glad that we were able to settle things like civilized ponies, and only put five of them in the hospital, and sent no more than two of them into comas from which they might never wake up.”

“Actually, I zink one woke up last week, I received a deazh zhreat written in blood saying she was coming for me,” Fleur commented as she gored an Auton on her horn and fired an energy blast that blew it to smithereens and wiped out the robots behind it as well.

“Is that so? Huh. Guess we’ll have to watch out for her at the wedding,” Fancypants said unworriedly as he punched the Auton he had in a headlock until its face caved in. “Hmm…there are still rather a lot of them…Fleur, care to try out that move we’ve been working on?”

“Certainly, darling,” Fleur said. Both of their horns lit up, and the nearest couple dozen or so Autons were raised into the air, suspended in place. The Unicorns crouched down and sprang upwards, launching themselves at the floating robots. Demonstrating an amazing level of choreography, they jumped from Auton to Auton, punching or kicking or blasting them so hard they went flying, often twirling past each other or spinning one another around as they danced about through the air with grace many Pegasi would be envious of. Eventually, they met in a kiss, embracing each other as they landed on the ground, the glow from their horns fading and causing any remaining Autons in the air to explode spontaneously. They parted their kiss, looked each other lovingly in the eyes…

And then Fleur said, “Your form was off. You almost crashed into me ‘alf-a-dozen times.”

Fancypants rolled his eyes. “Yes, well, it’s still a work in progress. And not everyone can have your grace, Fleur.”

“You might, if you stopped packing away the carbs and started running again,” Fleur said accusingly.

Fancypants gave her an indignant look. “Look, I don’t have as much time to jog anymore with my workload, and after a long day at work I feel like I’m entitled to a snack or two, and I still keep in good shape and my goodness are we really talking about this now?”

“So it would seem,” Fleur said with a smile.

Fancypants burst into laughter. “We really are perfect for each other, aren’t we Fleur? Come on, let’s go kill some more Autons.”

“Very well,” Fleur agreed.

And then they killed some more Autons. And made out while doing it. Because they’re in love and stuff.

Rarity did not have the same gear or temporal manipulation abilities as the Doctor’s family. She didn’t have Fleur or Fancypants’s fighting skills. She’d done very well in her martial arts classes, but she wasn’t nearly as good a fighter as, say, Rainbow Dash. Her magic was good at manipulation and fine control, but lacked the raw power of Twilight Sparkle. On the surface, she did not seem like the sort of pony you’d want to bring into a fight, especially since she had a tendency to get all weepy if she got the slightest bit dirty or chipped a hoof.

Normally, you’d be right. However, right now, Rarity had a lot of anger, and a very large couch that had come when she called it, and as such was currently a force to be reckoned with. “You took up residence beneath my shop without telling me or paying me rent!” Rarity screamed as she swept her couch across the ground, knocking several Autons away. “You were sitting right under my nose and could have killed my sister or I at any moment, and in fact were planning to!” Rarity shouted as she slammed her couch down on some Autons again and again until they were reduced to goo. “You wore my clothes without paying for them!” she yelled as some Autons fired lasers at her, and she flipped her couch on its front to use it as a shield, and then sent it flying forwards, bowling the Autons away. “But worst of all, you intended to replace me and our leaders…and if there’s anything I absolutely can’t abide in this world, it’s a cheap knockoff!” she shrieked, hopping on top of her couch and sending it sliding forwards across the floor with a spell, plowing through every Auton in her path. “Do you know how much money I lose whenever a two-bit seamstress tries to mimic my designs–and poorly, at that--and sells them with my brand on it? I don’t see a single bit, and ponies think less of me if they believe I had anything to do with it, and those horrible despicable thieves just laugh and laugh at my misfortune while cashing in on my fame! Do you know what it feels like?! DO YOU?! I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL!” She laughed insanely.

There were many Autons running about to engage the intruders. Rarity was the only one they were running away from.

Crackle waddled around, a blank look on her face. Autons fired lasers or struck at her with hooves or divebombed her from the skies, but she never seemed to notice. Sometimes she breathed fire that melted the attacking robots into goo. Sometimes she didn’t. Other times she farted so powerfully that the gas dissolved the Autons, and much of the floor behind her, instantly. Sometimes she didn’t. Eventually, she felt like sitting down, which she did, and then rolled over on her back, flattening the Autons that had climbed on top of her and were hacking ineffectually at her scales. She waggled her feet in the air, admiring those little wriggling things at the ends of her legs, oblivious to how she was knocking away several Autons rushing at her in the process. Then she threw up noisily, melting an Auton that had been trying for whatever reason to pull out her tongue, and went to sleep, snoring so loudly that rocks fell from the ceiling and crushed the robots around her. Eventually, she stopped snoring, and more robots crept up, but then she started writhing and shrieking and thumping the ground very hard with her tail, flattening an Auton that had gotten too close and causing more rocks to fall from the ceiling. Eventually, she settled down, and the Autons dared to approach once more…

And then, with a bloodcurdling scream, she surged to her feet and started charging all over the place, bellowing and breathing fire and crushing and incinerating every Auton in her path…all with her eyes closed. She was still asleep. She was currently doing something certain dragons did called ‘sleep-rampaging’ in which they went on a berserk rampage in their slumber and nobody dared to wake them up while they were doing so because apparently something bad would happen if they were woken up in the middle of their slumbering frenzy, though it was unclear what, exactly, was worse than a dragon going on a rampage while its eyes were closed. Prince Blueblood, after countless nights where Crackle would suddenly get up and begin tearing their room—and him—apart, was strongly considering trying to wake her up just to see what could happen, reasoning it couldn’t possibly be that bad. (Naturally, he would be wrong.)

Eventually, Crackle stopped rampaging, belched, and woke up. She blinked her eyes out of sync for a moment, threw up, ate her vomit, defecated, then waddled off aimlessly, leaving the remains of hundreds of destroyed Autons behind her.

And as for her husband…

“AAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAH!” Blueblood screamed as he ran from his pursuers.

“Prince Blueblood-“ Fancypants said.

“AAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAH!” Blueblood screamed as he ran from his pursuers.

“Prince Blueblood-“ Rarity said.

“AAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAH!” Blueblood screamed as he ran from his pursuers.

“Prince Blueblood!” the Doctor shouted.

“AAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAAH! AAAAAH!” Blueblood screamed as he ran from his pursuers, until he ran into Crackle and bounced off her armored hide. “Ow. Hello, dear.” The dragon responded with her usual greeting; namely, grabbing the prince in her mouth, shaking him vigorously, and then spitting him out. “Unnnhhhh…”

“Prince Blueblood, you can stop running now, the Autons are all dead,” Amethyst Star said.

“Huh? They are?” Blueblood blinked and looked around. There were no signs of any Autons, just lots of piles of plastic. “Oh. So they are. I knew that.”

“No you didn’t,” Dinky said.

“SILENCE, PEASANT!” Blueblood shouted, flushing in embarrassment.

“DON’T YOU SHOUT AT MY DAUGHTER!” Derpy roared in the Prince’s face.

“Eeep!” Blueblood squealed, jumping in the air and landing in Fleur’s forearms. She promptly dropped him to the ground. “Ow.”

“Phew! I must say, that was quite a workout,” Rarity said, wiping a stray lock out of her face. “Are we done, then?” That’s when the Nestene Consciousness roared angrily, causing the chamber to shake. Blueblood screamed and tried to jump into Fleur’s arms again, but she took a step back so he just landed on his face. “Ah. I guess not,” Rarity said.

“This was just a minor victory-“ the Doctor began as the Consciousness’s surface started bubbling.

“Minor?! We slew hundreds of robots!” Blueblood cried.

“’We?’” Amethyst Star asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Once this is all over, I intend to tell everyone that I killed the manticore's share of the Autons while you lot stood around being useless and needing to be rescued,” Blueblood said.

“Nopony will believe you,” Dinky said.

“It’s my word against yours, who do you think everypony is more likely to believe?” Blueblood sneered.

“Ahem,” Fancypants said.

“Dammit!” Blueblood swore.

“We took out ze army, but so long as zat Consciousness exists, it can make more, right, Doctor?” Fleur asked.

The Doctor nodded. “Precisely. It’s beginning the spawning process as we speak. If we can’t take it out before it’s finished, we’ll have a whole new army of Autons to deal with!”

“More Autons?!” Blueblood squealed.

“Another army?! I don’t think my pony-pedi can take another round of fighting!” Rarity moaned.

“All right. How do we kill it?” Fancypants asked.

“…I have no idea,” the Doctor admitted sheepishly.

Everyone stared at the Time Charger in disbelief. “What do you mean you have no idea?!” Blueblood screamed.

“The anti-plastic was our best bet! I’m not sure we have any way of defeating it without that!” the Doctor said.

“Maybe we could just…I don’t know…attack it with everything we have until it dies?” Rarity suggested tentatively.

“…I guess we don’t have any better options,” the Doctor said with a sigh. “Come on, then! Let’s give it everything we’ve got!”
They rushed to the Nestene Consciousness’s pool and let loose with everything they had. The Doctor and Dinky trained their screwdrivers on the plastic life-form and hit it with their plastic-dissolving frequency. Derpy flapped her wings repeatedly, bombarding the monster with wind blasts strong enough to rip houses apart. Amethyst Star buried exploding gems in its mass, blowing up bits of it at a time, and fire amplified lasers through her other jewels. Fancypants and Fleur fired spell blasts from their horns. Rarity hit it repeatedly with her couch. Crackle breathed fire…on Blueblood, until he shouted at her and turned her head so it was pointing at the abomination. The Prince himself was helping…

By trying to provide motivation. “Kill this monstrosity, or I’ll have you all locked in the dungeon for treason and incompetence!” he shouted. “Defend me with your lives! It’s all you’re good for! I am a Prince and will not die this day so long as there are other ponies to die for me!” To be fair, it was motivating them. Except the motivation was to brutally kill him rather than the Nestene.

Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, they didn’t seem to be doing a thing to the alien horror. While the power of the screwdrivers was able to melt parts of it, it was so big that it was easily able to reconstitute whatever they broke down. The bits of it Derpy blew off and Amethyst Star blasted off or vaporized grew back as well. It barely seemed to acknowledge Fancypants and Fleur’s spells or Crackle’s flames, and Rarity’s poor couch, which had already taken far too much abuse from being used as a weapon against the other Autons, shattered into a million splinters and bits of fluff after hitting the monster’s head one too many times. “No! My couch! Do you have any idea how much that cost?!” Rarity shrieked.

The Doctor cursed under his breath. “It’s no good! It’s too powerful!”

“And the new army is about to be unleashed!” Derpy said in alarm as buds looking like featureless pony heads started to swell from the surface of the Consciousness’s body.

“What do we do, Doctor?” Fancypants asked in concern.

“…Damn it all! We have to fall back! There’s nothing more we can do here!” the Doctor said angrily.

“We’re just going to run away?!” Fleur cried indignantly.

“I’m all for that idea!” Blueblood said eagerly.

“By now, Sweetie Belle should have called for reinforcements,” the Doctor said. “It’ll take the Autons a while to get up the stairs, and not all of them will be able to come through at once due to its width, so the military can use it as a choke point while I rush back to the TARDIS, whip up a new batch of anti-plastic, then come back down here and finish the Nestene off once and for all. It’s not the best of plans, but right now it’s all we’ve got.”

“…I suppose a tactical retreat is our best option right now…” Fancypants reluctantly agreed.

Derpy nodded. “Okay, everypony, let’s get out of here before-“

“No,” Rarity said icily, glaring at the Nestene.

“Rarity?” Fancypants asked in concern.

“No,” Rarity said through gritted teeth. The molten monster was looming over them, a smug expression on its unfinished face. It looked like it was laughing at her for being small and weak and insignificant, for thinking she could stand and make a difference. Laughing at her like all those high society snobs—and Prince Blueblood--who mocked her behind her back, saying she didn’t belong there because she came from a dirt town and was the child of a retired Hoofball player and was only successful because she’d used connections and road on the coattails of her betters, as if they hadn’t done the exact same thing! “I will not run! This abomination has invaded my home, threatened my friends and family, intended to use my store as a front for its invasion of our fair Equestria…I will not flee and let others fight for me! Am I not an Element of Harmony, and friend and consort of Her Royal Highness Twilight Sparkle? Am I not the greatest up-and coming designer in all of Equestria?! Am I not devoted to spreading beauty and fabulosity to every corner of this land?! No, I shall not flee…I shall stand and fight, and prevail, for I! AM! RARITY!”

Screaming “FROM TARTARUS’S HEART, I STAB AT THEE!”, the white Unicorn, without thinking, grabbed her couch from next to her and hurled it at the Nestene Consciousness, wanting nothing more than to shut its big, fat, laughing mouth up. It was only after she let go that she remembered her couch was destroyed and realized that her projectile was, in fact, Prince Blueblood. “Oh dear. I do believe I have just committed regicide,” she said faintly as the screaming prince hurtled through the air and vanished into the Nestene Consciousness’s mouth, the molten plastic swallowing him up without a trace.

“Don’t worry, if anyone asks, we’ll all say ‘e valiantly zrew ‘imself at ze monster to buy time for ze rest of us to escape,” Fleur said.

“Dear, nopony will believe that,” Fancypants said.

“’mm, quite right. Okay, ‘ow about zis: ‘e tripped while running away like a coward and fell in?” Fleur suggested after a moment’s thought.

“Yeah, I’d buy that,” Amethyst Star said.

“Dinky, why didn’t you use your Reset spell to stop that?!” the Doctor demanded.

“Mom said not to,” Dinky said.

The Doctor blinked in surprise and looked at his wife. “What?! Derpy, I know he was a bit of a cad, but that doesn’t mean we should let him die-“

“We had to let Rarity throw him in because of what happens next. Look!” Derpy shouted, pointing at the Consciousness.

They looked. Something seemed to be going on with the plastic monster. It was writhing about, incomplete mouth bellowing in agony, more and more bubbles popping across its surface as the Autons it had been creating melted away. “Wh-what’s going on?!” Fancypants cried as they stumbled back, the cavern shaking and rocks starting to fall from the ceiling.

“It looks as if the Nestene Consciousness’s chemical bonds are coming apart,” the Doctor said in confusion. “But that’s not possible, we lost the anti-plastic…unless…” He gasped, grabbed Rarity, and kissed her on the lips, much to her surprise and Derpy’s bemusement. “Oh, Miss Rarity, you brilliant, beautiful mare, you! How did you know that Prince Blueblood’s conditioner must have the same chemical makeup as anti-plastic, which is why Crackle ate the vial, because she smelled it and it reminded her of her husband’s mane, which is also why she likes chewing on his head so much?!”

“I did what now?” asked the confused Rarity.

“Wait…zat doesn’t make any…” Fleur started.

“Don’t question it,” Amethyst Star advised. “Just…don’t.”

The Nestene Consciousness howled in pain and started swelling outwards. “Doctor, I do believe that thing is about to explode!” Fancypants cried. “We need to get out of here!”

“But there’s no way we can possibly reach the surface before it blows!” Rarity said, before a thought struck her. “Wait…explode? Down here? Beneath my store?!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this!” Dinky said, squeezing her eyes shut and concentrating. There was a flash of light from her horn, and then suddenly the Nestene Consciousness stopped moving and screaming. Falling rocks froze in midair. Nothing moved in the cavern at all, except for seven ponies and one dragon.

“What…how…how are you…” Rarity stammered.

“I’m half-Time Charger, and a Unicorn at that, so I can do time magic,” Dinky said through gritted teeth. “But I can only stop time for so long, and it’s even harder to do it and bring other ponies with me, so we have to get out of here now!”

“Well, that’s good enough for me,” Fancypants said. “Shall we?”

“Allons-y!” Fleur shouted.

“Stop stealing my line!” the Doctor yelled.

They quickly started running for the exit. They had to double back briefly to grab Crackle, who’d been staring dopily at the Nestene Consciousness, but after that they crossed the cavern with blinding speed and started running up the stairs. Partway up Dinky cried in pain and collapsed, the strain from maintaining the time freeze getting to her, and her mother had to scoop her up and carry her in her forelimbs, whispering that she was a brave little muffin and that she was so proud of her and assuring her that she could do it, she just had to keep it up a little longer, that’s her girl.

After what felt like several minutes, but couldn’t really have been since time wasn’t actually flowing, they reached the top of the stairs and found themselves back in the Boutique workroom. Rarity, gasping and wheezing and thinking to herself that perhaps she should have taken up Applejack’s offer of endurance training after all, paused to catch her breath, and noticed to her alarm that everyone else was heading for one of the big holes in the wall. “Wait, where are you going?!” she cried.

“The Nestene Consciousness is about to explode! Do you really want to be nearby when that happens?!” the Doctor yelled.

Rarity’s eyes widened in horror. “But…then my store…”

“Stores can be rebuilt! Ponies can’t! Well, okay, they can be, but they need enough parts, and they won’t be able to find enough of you to fit in an ashtray if you don’t get out, now!” the Doctor shouted.

Panic giving her legs new strength, Rarity staggered to her hooves and dashed for the exit, joining the Doctor’s family, Crackle, and Fleur and Fancypants outside. Time had stopped outside the Boutique as well, and there was a rather sizable ring of armored soldiers wearing Twilight’s livery standing at attention around Rarity’s home, with the Princess herself and Rarity’s other friends standing at the forefront, a worried Sweete Belle by their side. “Okay,” the Doctor said as he skidded to a halt in front of the soldiers. “I think this is far enough. Dinky, you can stop now.”

Gratefully, Dinky released her spell. Instantly, motion and sound returned to the world, specifically, the motion and sound of the soldiers and Rarity’s friends jumping and crying out in surprise as seven ponies and one dragon appeared out of thin air. “What the…Rarity, how did-“ Twilight started.

“Twilight! The Boutique is about to explode! Contain it! Now!” the Doctor yelled.

The youngest Alicorn didn’t argue, didn’t stop to think. Her horn lit up and suddenly a big purple dome of magic formed around Carousel Boutique. And just in time, too, for the building was disintegrated in a tremendous explosion that shook the earth, filled everyone’s vision with spots, and filled their ears with a rather annoying ringing noise. After several moments passed, and the sound and fury was over, Twilight released her spell, allowing the smoke trapped inside to billow out, which the Pegasi soldiers dutifully blew away with their wings…

Revealing that there was nothing left of Rarity’s home except for a very large, very deep crater. Rarity heard someone screaming and crying at the top of their lungs. It took a moment for her to realize it was herself. Forelegs and wings wrapped themselves around her, and she realized that her dear, beautiful, wonderful friends and sister had wrapped her in a hug.
“Don’t worry, Rarity,” Fluttershy said gently. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

“M-my house…my boutique…my beautiful dresses…” Rarity wept.

“Those can all be replaced, sugarcube,” Applejack said kindly. “You, on the other hoof, can’t be.” Weeping, Rarity gratefully nuzzled her friend.

“And hey, maybe you can move back in with me and Mom and Dad until you can get a new Boutique!” Sweetie suggested happily. Rarity started wailing all the louder at that. Sweetie pouted. “I’m guessing that’s a no…”

“Don’t worry, Rarity, you can stay with me for a while!” Pinkie said, her grin a little too wide.

“Or me,” Fluttershy said, licking her lips.

“Or me,” Applejack said, glaring at the other two.

“Or me!” Rainbow Dash said, lasciviously waggling her eyebrows.

“Rainbow, she can’t walk on clouds,” Fluttershy pointed out.

“…Oh. Darn,” Rainbow grumbled. “Well, maybe Twilight could cast that spell-“

“Girls! I can’t believe you’d be thinking of that now of all times!” Twilight scolded the others, who gave her appropriately chastened looks. “And besides,” she purred, leaning closer to Rarity, a look of pure greed and lust that would frighten even the most avaricious of dragons in her eyes, causing Rarity to shiver in terrified delight. “Seeing as how I own her—own all of you—body and soul, if she were to stay with anyone it would be me.” A normal smile on her face, she pulled back and said, “Fortunately, that won’t be necessary, because I prepared for just such an-“

There was a sudden scream. “Somezing’s coming out of ze crater!” Fleur cried, pointing a dainty hoof at the edge of the crater, where something was levering itself up out of the chasm. It was a grotesque, shambling form, moaning and covered in molten plastic.

“An Auton survived? But that’s impossible! The anti-plastic in Blueblood’s mane should have killed all of them when the Nestene Consciousness was destroyed!” the Doctor said.

“Wait, where’s Prince Blueblood anyway? Shouldn’t he have come up with you guys?” Sweetie Belle realized.

Rarity smiled uneasily. “Uh, well, Sweetie…the thing is…”

“He’s dead,” Dinky said bluntly. Sweetie gasped, and Rarity shot her a look. “What? He is. He tripped and fell into the Nestene Consciousness, and certainly wasn’t thrown in by anypony who had a particular reason to despise him for crushing her foalhood dreams of romance.”

Rarity’s friends slowly turned to look at her. “…There something you want to tell us, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

“Noooooo…” Rarity said nervously.

“Gosh, Rarity, I knew you didn’t like Blueblood, but throwing him into an alien is a bit much, don’t you think?” Fluttershy asked. “I mean…if that’s okay…”

“I DID NOT KILL PRINCE BLUEBLOOD AND THERE’S NO EVIDENCE THAT SUGGESTS THAT I DID OTHERWISE, AND EVEN IF I DID KILL PRINCE BLUEBLOOD, WHICH I DID NOT, NO COURT IN EQUESTRIA WOULD CONVICT ME!” Rarity screamed. “And shouldn’t we be focusing on the fact that an Auton apparently survived than how Prince Blueblood died right now?”

“You’re right, Rarity, we can talk after this monster is dealt with,” Twilight said, standing in front of her friends and spreading her wings. “Everypony, ready! If that thing takes another step forward, I want it sent on a one-way ticket to Tartarus!”

“Er, do you mean you actually want us to banish it to Tartarus, or-“ a Unicorn guard asked.

Twilight facehooved. “Just deal with it, okay?!”

“Y-Yes, Your Highness,” the guard, who was clearly a rookie, said nervously.

Groaning, the heap of plastic slowly turned the misshapen mass that might, possibly, be a head, scanning the worried and angry ponies arrayed against it. It paused when it saw Rarity, hiding behind Twilight’s wings. Its eyes, if it had any, narrowed. Its horn glowed, though it was impossible to tell through all the plastic. Its sides crumbled, and what looked like the top of an extremely torn, burnt, and battered saddlebag opened…

And an apple pie floated out.

Applejack blinked. “Wait a second…that pie looks like one ah baked to sell this morning…what would an alien robot be doing with one o’ those?”

Rarity gasped, recognizing what little of the saddlebag the creature was wearing through the plastic. “It cannot be! But my fashion accessory memory is never off! Twilight, call your guards off, that’s not an Auton, it’s-“

“IT’S ARMED! KILL IT! KILL IT NOW!” a rather trigger-happy guard, nerves already rather frayed from the explosion and facing off against an actual alien invader, screamed.

“NO, WAIT, IT’S PRINCE BLUEBLOOD!” Twilight yelled.

In the debriefing of the event after the fact, every soldier present would claim that none of them heard this order, even though Twilight shouted it in the Royal Canterlot Voice, citing that they had gone temporarily deaf from the explosion of the Carousel Boutique, even though this made no sense because otherwise they couldn’t possibly have heard Twilight’s earlier order to standby and attack the supposed Auton if it did anything threatening. Regardless, what all the reports, and eyewitness accounts, agreed upon is that after Twilight shouted, the Auton that would later be confirmed as not being Prince Blueblood threw its pastry projectile in Rarity’s direction, only for a forked tongue to lash out and snatch the pie out of the air and vanish down the gullet of Princess Crackle. The Auton that would later be confirmed as not being Prince Blueblood then screamed and fell to the ground, bursting into tears just before getting hit by several dozen stun spells, freezing it in place and allowing the several dozen Pegasi that descended on it moments later to beat it to a pulp without a fight. It was unclear how the Auton that would later be confirmed as not being Blueblood had fallen back into the crater and hit the bottom afterwards. The Pegasi all claimed that it had ‘tripped,’ even though it’d been paralyzed at the time, and its legs had probably been too broken at that moment to pull it anywhere near the lip of the crater.

On a completely unrelated note, all of the soldiers present at this incident had either been former bodyguards of Prince Blueblood, were related to former bodyguards or servants of Prince Blueblood, or been victims of or related to victims of Prince Blueblood’s attempt to reform the Guard after the rather humiliating defeat they’d suffered during the Changeling invasion by altering the glamour enchantments on their armor so that they’d all permanently look like him, which he reasoned would increase their morale tenfold by making them look like someone whose life was actually important other than to die bravely to protect those in power. The Guard therapy and plastic surgery bills following the incident had been staggering, and the number of assassination attempts on Prince Blueblood tripled. There were also a few near-divorces and suicide attempts. Thankfully, none of them went through with it, but it was very dicey for a while.

On an even more unrelated note, all of the guards involved received commendations for ‘thwarting an alien invasion’ and ‘preventing an assassination of a royal consort,’ and no mention of their possibly attacking a royal personage or disobeying a royal order (after all, the Auton was confirmed to not be Prince Blueblood, and they’d been temporarily deaf, so it wasn’t their fault they hadn’t heard their mistress’s command) ever made it into their permanent records.

The official reports would also state that a horribly injured Prince Blueblood was later discovered at the bottom of the crater, surrounded by fragments of broken plastic, and that the surviving Auton must have shattered when it landed on him. The case was pronounced closed, and no further inquiry into the incident was ever called for, except by Prince Blueblood, but all his shouts for retribution and execution of the guards whom he claimed had tried to murder him were ignored and deemed the crazed babbles of someone suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome from being caught in an exploding Nestene Consciousness and surviving. No charges were brought against Rarity for throwing him into the Consciousness either (Well, they were brought up, but completely ignored), since after all, he hadn’t been thrown, he’d tripped, as all eyewitness accounts corroborated. Prince Blueblood would later receive a medal for accidentally saving Equestria from an alien invasion, which mollified him slightly, even though the award ceremony was very private, nopony was invited, and it was only mentioned in a short article buried in the back pages of the Equestrian Inquirer. And Crackle ate the medal later.

But that’s in the future. In the present, everyone looked on as trained medical practitioners rather haphazardly loaded the broken and twisted and burnt and horribly mangled body of Blueblood into a chariot and took off for Canterlot General, ‘forgetting’ to strap him down so he wouldn’t slide all over the chariot and bump into the sides (which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Prince Blueblood had tried to slash the budget for the hospital several times and attempted to get motions passed to deny free healthcare to the lower class because he figured their backwoods hoodoo and potions were just as good a placebo as the real thing and would free up more resources to treat the wealthy). “It’s amazing he managed to survive getting swallowed and blown up inside an alien life-form,” Fluttershy said quietly as she watched the white carriage with a red cross on the sides fly off towards Canterlot.

“And gettin’ beaten up by a buncha guards, and thrown into a giant crater-“ Applejack said.

Rarity laughed nervously. “Whatever are you talking about, darling? That was an Auton, not Prince Blueblood. Don’t be silly.”

“But Rarity, you said-“ Sweetie Belle started.

“I was wrong,” she snapped.

Sweetie Belle frowned at her. “I think you’re lying. I thought telling lies was bad.”

“Do as I say and not as I do, okay?!” Rarity pleaded. Sweetie Belle scowled, as did Applejack, who was no happier about the blatant deception than the filly…even if she did have a bit of a grudge towards Blueblood for publicly decrying apples as the worst fruit and saying pears—which everyone knew were the evilest fruit in all of Equestria—were his favorites, and for being a total flankhole towards her and her friends whenever they ran into him, and for trying to buy Sweet Apple Acres and tear up the farm so that he could build a game reserve where he could hunt poor ponies for his own amusement and maybe she should stop this line of thought before she started thinking that maybe those soldiers were in the right in beating up Blueblood and throwing him into the crater even after they’d heard he wasn’t an Auton. Which they hadn’t. Since they’d been temporarily deaf, and that wasn’t Blueblood, but an Auton. Apparently.

“I think he survived because of his latent Alicorn blood,” Twilight said. “It’s not enough for him to ever Ascend or even become immortal—thankfully--but it does grant him a degree of resilience to things that would kill just about anypony else.”

“Huh. Maybe that’s why nopony’s succeeded in killing him yet,” Rainbow Dash said.

“Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy cried, horrified.

“What? I’m not the only one thinking it,” Rainbow Dash said.

“I must say, despite everything I’m relieved he survived,” Fancypants mused as he watched the chariot recede into the distance.

“Yes, it means we don’t ‘ave to go to a funeral and pretend we’re sad zat ‘e’s gone,” Fleur agreed.

“I’m sorry about your house, Rarity,” Derpy said apologetically. “The Doctor didn’t know the explosion would be that bad…did you, Doctor?”

“What? Oh, uh, no. No, I don’t,” the Doctor said quickly.

Rarity sighed. “It’s all right…I suppose my magnificent palace of beauty and fashion was a…necessary sacrifice to keep Equestria from being destroyed…” She didn’t look like she believed it, though. “I shall simply stay with somepony else, and then rebuild Carousel Boutique, twice as fabulous!”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Rarity,” Twilight said, perking up.

Rarity blinked in surprise. “It won’t?”

“No, before Prince—I mean, that Auton attacked, I was about to tell you that I had it covered,” Twilight explained. She whistled, and Earth Ponies wearing hardhats and orange vests appeared towing massive carts full of dirt, stone, and concrete, which they began to pour into the crater. While this was being done, Twilight shot a flare into the air with her horn. “Bring it in, colts!”

The armored Pegasi overhead flew off in formation and came back a moment later…carrying what looked an awful lot like Carousel Boutique hanging from a number of ropes and pulleys, nearly taking off the roofs of the houses below as it gently swung in its harness, clipping a chimney or two as it went. Rarity gasped in disbelief. “My Boutique!”

“But that’s impossible, it blew up! We all saw it blow up!” Rainbow Dash said.

“Or did we?” Pinkie asked.

“Oh, it blew up, all right,” Twilight said with a smirk. “This isn’t the original Carousel Boutique, it’s a scale replica I made in case of emergencies.”

“…You made an exact duplicate of Rarity’s house just in case it exploded?!” Applejack asked incredulously as Rarity squealed in delight and pulled on her mane, stars in her eyes.

“I made exact duplicates of all of your houses in case they exploded,” Twilight said smugly. “It was Pinkie’s idea.”

“Huh. Suddenly I’m not surprised anymore,” Rainbow Dash said.

“I am! I don’t remember telling Twilight she should make exact duplicates of all our houses in case they exploded!” Pinkie Pie said. She frowned. “I wish I had, though, because it’s brilliant!”

Twilight laughed. “Well, it wasn’t Pinkie’s idea so much as something she inspired me to do. She has caches of eyepatches and balls and trampolines and balloons and medical kits and food and fireworks and all sorts of other things scattered across Equestria in case of emergencies. I figured it might not be a bad idea to make preparations of my own in case something bad should ever happen.”

“That’s remarkably foresighted of you, Princess,” Fancypants complimented Twilight.

“And, uh, kind of frivolous…” the Doctor said with a frown. “Is this what our tax money is going towards, then? Making duplicates of your friend’s houses?”

“Honey, we don’t pay taxes,” Derpy said.

“Ah, right, so we don’t. Never mind, then,” the Doctor said, cheering up.

“How do you not pay taxes? I’ve been trying to figure that out for years!” Rainbow Dash said.

“Careful exploitation of loopholes in the tax law,” Dinky said.

“Darn. I can’t even read that thing without falling asleep…” Rainbow Dash muttered.

“I’d be happy to explain it to you, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight offered.

“I can’t even listen to you explain that thing without falling asleep,” Rainbow Dash muttered. Twilight scowled.

The forestallion of the construction workers trotted over and tipped his hat. “We’ve finished filling in the big hole, Your Magisty, and got the foundations, plumbing, and magilectricity ready. All we need is to put the house down and it should be good to go.”

“Wow, that’s some really fast work,” Applejack said. “And here ah thought mah family could build barns in record time!”

“We’re the best in the business, ma’am. Royal Engineering Corps,” the stallion said, proudly showing off a badge on his vest.

Twilight nodded at the stallion. “Good work, Solid Foundation. All right, gentlestallions, put her down!” she shouted at the Pegasi. The guards nodded and gently lowered the new Carousel Boutique down on its foundations, sighing in relief once it was safely on the ground and they could untie themselves from the incredibly heavy building. The Engineering Corps scurried around and inside the building, hooking everything up and making sure the structure was secure before giving the Princess and her entourage the go-ahead to head inside.

Squealing in delight, Rarity raced for the door of the towering structure, slamming it open and rushing around the workroom, gibbering and shrieking with incoherent delight. “I take it you’re satisfied, then?” Twilight asked as she and the others trotted in after the white Unicorn. Opalescence entered a moment later, glanced around in disdain, gave a sniff of grudging approval, then padded over to a pillow identical to the one she’d been napping on earlier and lay down to sleep.

Crying tears of joy, Rarity grabbed Twilight and smothered her with kisses. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she shrieked giddily. “It looks exactly like it did before that horrible business with the Autons began!” She paused, and slowly looked around, taking everything in. “…Actually…it looks exactly the way it did…right down to the dresses on the mannequins, and the fabric on the shelves, and the exact number and types of pins in the pincushions, and the furniture and the books on the shelves and that magazine Fancypants left lying on the couch and that scorch mark in the kitchen from where Sweetie Belle tried making breakfast this morning-“

“It was an accident,” Sweetie Belle muttered. “I said I was sorry…”
“And the dress Crackle ate and Twilight how is this possible?!“ Rarity asked frantically.

“Eheheheheh, I’d reaaaaaally rather not go into it,” Twilight said nervously. “So, why don’t we just celebrate the fact that your shop is back exactly the way it was less than an hour ago and not go questioning how I would be able to keep this duplicate up-to-date with the original.”

“But-“ Rarity protested.

“Pinkie Pie, we need a party, stat!” Twilight screamed desperately.

“Oh boy! A PARTY!” Pinkie screamed giddily, reaching into her mane and pulling out a cannon on wheels that should not possibly have been able to fit in there.

“Wh-what…how did she…” Fancypants stammered.

“Don’t question it. Even I haven’t figured that out,” the Doctor said wearily as Pinkie Pie pulled a string on the back of the cannon, causing it to fire and shower the room with its contents.

Instantly, confetti was covering the floor, streamers and balloons were hanging all over the place, some tables with cake, chips, and a bowl of punch with an alligator swimming in it appeared along a wall, and a banner proclaiming, ‘CONGRATULATIONS ON THE CAROUSEL BOUTIQUE’S GRAND RE-OPENING AND DEFEAT OF AN INVASION OF ALIEN PLASTIC ROBOTS’ stretching across the ceiling. Also, everyone was now wearing party hats.

Pinkie Pie poked her head out the door and shouted, “Everypony, come on in here so we can get a conga line started!” She stepped away from the door as the remaining members of Twilight’s Guard and the Royal Engineering Corps danced into the room in a straight line, slightly baffled looks on their faces, as if they weren’t sure how they’d gotten into this situation, which was a common feeling for anyone who spent any period of time around Pinkie Pie. “Woohoo! Dance party!” Pinkie whooped as she joined the end of the line and started shuffling around the room.

“Come on, Rarity, let’s dance!” Twilight said, dragging Rarity towards the end of the conga line.

“But…but…oh, very well, I suppose there are some things I’m better off not knowing,” Rarity said reluctantly as she joined the line with Twilight and the rest of her friends.

“…I have no idea what’s going on, but it looks like fun,” Fancypants said, poking his party hat. “Shall we join in?”

Fleur smiled and said, “Allons-“ She paused, noticing the Doctor glaring at her. “Er, I mean, let’s go.”

As Fancypants and Fleur tried their hoof at a game of ‘Pin the Anti-Plastic on the Nestene Consciousness,’ the Doctor smiled as he watched Dinky break open a piñata that looked like an Auton, causing candy to spill out…only for Crackle to quickly eat it all, prompting the angry filly to use her Reset spell to try again, in hopes that she could get the candy before the dragon could eat it. Much to her consternation, she couldn’t. “Well, that’s another adventure concluded without anyone getting too seriously hurt or dying. (Well, except for Blueblood.) I love those. Strange how I seem to have more of those when I’m here at home than when I’m off-world.” As always, he felt a thrill in both his hearts when he said the word ‘home.’ For a good part of his life, he hadn’t really had a home aside from the TARDIS, always going here and there in time and space, never staying long enough to settle down anywhere.

And then he’d met Derpy, and had his daughters, and found at last what he thought he’d lost and could never have again after the Time War: a home, and a family.

“Equestria’s just a magical place, I guess,” Derpy said, nuzzling against her husband.

“It certainly is. It gave me you, didn’t it?” the Doctor said. They kissed.

“Blech. Old ponies making out,” Amethyst Star said, sticking out her tongue as she helped herself to some chips and salsa. She paused and frowned at the alligator in the punch bowl. “What are you looking at?”

Gummy blinked one eye after another at her but said nothing.

In Which This Story Ends
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Blueblood's Big Bad Bloody Brilliant Brouhaha

In Which This Story Ends

A little later…

Prince Blueblood, encased in a full-body cast, hooked up to several beeping monitors and dozens of different bags of fluid and pumped so full of painkillers that he couldn’t remember what his extremities or tongue felt like, was feeling thoroughly sorry for himself, which was somewhat understandable given the day he’d had. Several ponies had already come in to visit him, most of them taking advantage of his current state to tell him how much they absolutely hated him without fear of retribution or to point and laugh or to write rude and derogatory statements and draw crude images all over his cast. When his Aunts and Uncle Discord barged into the hospital room, the latter carrying several balloons with ‘Get Well Soon,’ written on them, his already dismal mood sank even further, certain he was about to get another ‘Oh Blueblood’ and a lecture from Aunt Celestia about how she had such high hopes for him and just knew he could do better if he really tried and stopped being such a complete and utter disappointment and sorry excuse for an equine being. (Not that she’d say so in so many words, of course, but he was pretty sure it was implied.)

So imagine his surprise when Celestia, a smile as bright and beaming as the Sun she controlled, proclaimed, “I’m so proud of you, Blueblood!”

“Huh?” said Blueblood. Well, actually, his jaw was wired shut and his snout covered in plaster as well, but if he could have emitted anything other than an incoherent grunt, it would probably have been a ‘Huh?’

“I always knew you could do great things, but I never expected you to help thwart an alien invasion!” Celestia said excitedly.

“Actually, the reports from Rarity and the Doctor say that they did all the work while he ran around screaming his head off,” said Luna, who clearly didn’t want to be there.

“Yes, but he destroyed the Nestene Consciousness!” said Celestia.

“Completely by accident,” Luna said.

“Oh, hush Luna, he still destroyed it! And besides, my expectations for him have gotten so low at this point I’m willing to consider it a major triumph on his part,” Celestia whispered the last part so Blueblood hopefully wouldn’t hear it. Out loud, she said, “You’ll be happy to know I’ve already commissioned construction of a new stained glass window detailing your heroic actions!”

“It’s going to be put in a lavatory, since we don’t have room anywhere else at the moment,” Discord said. Luna kicked him.
The Princess of the Sun then leaned down and nuzzled her nephew affectionately, not that he could feel it through his cast.

“Oh, you have no idea how happy this makes me, nephew! I think this could be the start of a new beginning for you! After you get out of that cast and receive your clean bill of health, we’ll hold an awards ceremony to commemorate your accidental heroism!”

“It’ll be very small, and nopony’s going to come because everypony hates you and knows this was a complete fluke and more qualified individuals did the real work and will be properly rewarded for it with their own ceremony and stained glass window that’s not going to be in a lavatory, so politically speaking it would be a terrible idea for Celestia to make a big deal out of yours since it’ll look like nepotism and she’d be ignoring the fact that the only reason you were there in the first place was, apparently, to throw a pie in Rarity’s face,” Discord said. Luna kicked him.

“Now, Discord, we both know that that was an Auton assassin,” Celestia said brightly, though of course both of them knew the opposite was the case. “And that Prince Blueblood was at Carousel Boutique requesting a dress for his wife—which, you’ll be happy to know, is coming along quite nicely—and even if he had tried to throw a pie at Rarity, which he didn’t,” Celestia said, glaring at Blueblood and causing him to gulp. “It’s not exactly a capital offense, last time I checked, otherwise you’d be back in stone.”

“…Fair point,” Discord admitted. “So you aren’t going to punish him for it at all?”

“How can I punish him for something he didn’t do?” Celestia said, her smile a little too wide. “And even if he did do it—which he didn’t—I’d say that being blown up along with an alien monster and certainly not getting beaten to a pulp by self-righteous Guards who felt they were doing their duty by attacking a monster threatening their Princess and her friends who, coincidentally, our dear Prince Blueblood may or may not have caused serious grief or psychological trauma to in the past, and being thrown—I’m sorry, tripped—into a very deep hole are punishment enough for one day, don’t you think? Not that he did anything worth being punished for, of course. Or that any of that happened to him, aside from the exploding alien part.”

Discord considered this for a moment, and then grinned craftily at Blueblood, who was sweating and trembling in his cast. “Well, when you put it that way…I suppose, if he had done something wrong, which he didn’t, this would probably be punishment enough for now.”

“I’m glad you see it my way,” Celestia said cheerfully. She turned back to Blueblood and kissed him on the brow. “Rest well, sweet prince. Once you’re all better we can talk about how you’ve turned over a new leaf and will take advantage of this new opportunity fate has offered you to become better than the pony you’ve been so far.” Her smile not changing in the slightest, she added, “And, of course, if you were to squander this opportunity and try to throw pies in pony’s faces again or give them dress orders intended to ruin their lives, I think you’ll find there are a lot worse fates one can suffer than being blown up along with an alien monster, not getting beaten to a pulp by self-righteous Guards who felt they were doing their duty by attacking a monster threatening their Princess and her friends who, coincidentally, you may or may not have caused serious grief or psychological trauma to in the past, and being thrown—I’m sorry, tripped—into a very deep hole. I have been extremely lenient with you for these last few years of your life, but even my patience has its limits, if you catch my drift.”

“I think she means that if you try to do something stupid and vengeful again, she’ll do something horrible to you,” Discord whispered extremely loudly into the terrified Blueblood’s ear as the prince’s heartbeat spiked on one of the monitors.

“That’s not what I said at all,” Celestia said, which was, strictly speaking, true, while at the same time was also a bald-faced lie.

“Just wanted him to get it into his head. He’s not good at subtlety,” Discord said.

“He has a point,” Luna said.

Celestia rolled her eyes and smiled beatifically at Blueblood, who was rather happy he had a catheter at that moment. “We’ll let you rest now. You’ve had a very long day. And remember, Blueblood, I am proud of you, and I love you. I always will.”

“Then again, she also loves Luna and myself, yet she booted Luna up to the Moon for a thousand years and turned me to stone,” Discord said nonchalantly. Luna kicked him.

The three immortals departed, leaving the balloons tied to one of the bedposts. Blueblood contemplated what had just happened. On the one hoof, he’d apparently gotten off scot-free from his attempt at revenge. On the other hoof, his Aunt would apparently not be so lenient if he tried again.

And on another hoof…Auntie said she was proud of him. And he’d actually done something for her to be proud of for a change, even if it was a complete accident. He felt something, deep inside him…

His stomach rumbled, and he realized it must have been hunger. After all, he hadn’t had anything to eat at all today, and he didn’t think these parental bags and IV feeds were cutting it. While he was lamenting his decision not to buy anything to eat while he had been in Ponyville—granted, he wasn’t sure he wanted any of their diseased peasant food in his mouth. They probably spat in it to give it flavor or something—one of the balloons swiveled around and sprouted a pair of black cartoony eyes and a snaggletoothed grin. “Hey, nephew, how you feeling?”

Blueblood screamed. Or rather, he would have, if his jaws weren’t wired shut, so he settled for a terrified grunt. The balloon chuckled as the other balloons swirled through the air and knotted together behind it, their shapes stretching and twisting outwards to create a form that looked vaguely like an inflatable version of Discord. “Awww, you didn’t like that trick?” Discord asked with a pout. “Funny, the other kids I visit at the hospital always get a kick out of it…anyway, I think we need to have a talk, you and I. Or rather, I’ll talk, and you’ll listen, since your mouth’s wired shut right now.”

The balloon Discord drifted across the bed and wrapped a latex arm around Blueblood’s shoulders. “Now, let’s see, how does this part go again? Oh, right…PRINCE BLUEBLOOD, YOU HAVE FAILED ME FOR…for…uh…hmm. How many times have you failed now? Not just in this whole revenge thing, but life in general? Gosh, I don’t even know where to begin to count…oh well, the point is, you failed in our revenge scheme. Don’t worry, I’m not angry at you,” he said when he noticed Blueblood was sweating and his eyes were shaking with fear. “I never really thought you’d get it right anyway.”

“You didn’t?” Blueblood asked in surprise, or would have, if his jaw weren’t wired shut, so just made a muffled noise that was the equivalent.

“No, I didn’t,” said Discord, who naturally understood his grunts perfectly. “I mean, come on, seriously? You’re like the most unreliable pony in Equestria, as well as one of the stupidest. I mean, really? Throwing an apple pie? You plotted for years and that’s the best you could come up with? Geez. I’m ashamed to even be related to you. Even though I’m not, technically. Heck, I’m sure Celestia’s ashamed too, but she’s far too nice to say it to your face. I’m not, though, so I’ll say it again: I’m ashamed to even be related to you. You know, I like the sound of that! I’m ashamed to even be related to you. I’m ashamed to even be related to you. I’m ashamed to even be related to you. Hmm, I wonder if I can get a dance remix out of that…”

“But…but if you didn’t think I could do it, then why…” Blueblood said, or would have said, if his jaw weren’t oh you get the idea.

“Why would I send you out there with a scheme of my own if I never thought you could do it? Because I figured it would be hilarious seeing how badly you screwed it up. And I was right! It was hilarious! Ha, and even funnier because that wife of yours was there! I’m fairly sure you would have bucked it up anyway even if she hadn’t been there, but her presence absolutely ensured your failure in a comedically painful fashion! Wasn’t expecting the aliens, though, but that was a fun bonus,” Discord said. “By the way, did you know that Crackle’s not actually a princess, she’s just some dragon Celestia found rooting around her garbage? She just told everyone Crackle was a princess to try and liven up the castle a bit by watching all those stuck-up nobles fall over themselves trying to win that gasbag’s favor and see if they were smart enough to figure out they were being played. She certainly didn’t expect you to try marrying that thing. What was that about, anyway? Did you think you could become a shoe-in for King of the Dragons or something if you married her? Or did you actually fall in love with her? Eh, whatever, I’m pretty sure it’s too late for a divorce now, since you’d be humiliating yourself and Celestia if you admitted you married the dragon equivalent of a hillbilly.”

Blueblood’s eyes widened in horror. No! It couldn’t be! Crackle was a princess of dragons, she had to be!

Although…weren’t dragons notorious for being individualistic and anti-authority and there had not, in fact, even been a dragon nation for millennia until a few weeks ago, so there wasn’t anywhere Crackle could even have been princess of or a Dragon King for her to be the daughter of? How had he not noticed that?! (And for that matter, how had nopony else? The fact that few if any ponies had figured it out made Celestia feel like crying sometimes for the intellect of her citizens.)

“Anyway,” Discord said as he pulled away from the hospitalized Unicorn, ignoring Blueblood’s horrified realization that he’d been sleeping next to (and with) a dragon that was as common as common could be, and perhaps moreso, since most commoners weren’t born from blood siblings and first cousins breeding with each other for hundreds of thousands of years. “Even though I never actually expected you to win, I’m still going to punish you for failing, because that’s apparently the sort of things villains do to their minions, and I’m most definitely a villain and am not faking this whole Evil League of Evil thing just so I can have an excuse to toy with the lives of other villains for my own amusement while still being reformed. And your punishment shall be…”

Please be Trixie and Gilda making out, please be Trixie and Gilda making out, PLEASE BE TRIXIE AND GILDA MAKING OUT! Blueblood thought desperately.

“The absolute worst thing you can think of!” Discord crowed triumphantly.

“NO! NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT THAT!” Blueblood screamed, or the equivalent thereof.

“Yes! Exactly that!” the chaos god cried, raising his inflatable paw, chaotic energy gathering in it. He hurled the multicolored ball of energy at the prone and helpless Blueblood…

Which turned into an apple pie and hit Blueblood in the face, splattering his body cast. “…Seriously? That’s the worst thing you can think of? Oh, Blueblood,” Discord said, shaking his head in disgust…and pausing when he noticed that the Prince appeared to have flatlined, if the long, drawn-out beep from the heart monitor was anything to go by. “Oh, come on, seriously? You have a heart attack from a pie to the face? You have some serious issues, stallion.” He rubbed his balloon hands together, static crackling between them. “Clear!” he shouted as he slammed them onto Blueblood’s chest.

The Prince jerked in his bed, and the beep on the monitor broke up, his heart beating again, albeit a little erratically. “There, my work here is done,” Discord said proudly. He paused, then took out a marker and drew a picture of a cross-eyed Blueblood with stink lines emanating from his drooping horn and his tongue sticking out, the words, ‘Durrrr, I are a doo-doo head’ written in a speech bubble next to it on the cast. “A true masterpiece, if I do say so myself,” Discord said, signing his drawing with ‘Discord wuz not heer,’ ate the marker, and promptly popped himself, shreds of latex wafting around the room. Blueblood was alone once more.

Some time later, Crackle wandered into the room and started eating the pie off of Blueblood’s face, and some of her husband’s face as well. The orderlies left her alone because conjugal visits were allowed, interpreting (or choosing to interpret) Blueblood’s muffled screams as cries of ecstasy for his beloved wife’s ministrations.

Author's Note

There are those who might call this story a big Blueblood bashing fic. Maybe they're right. All I know is I had a blast writing it and hope you enjoyed reading it.