Two very young pegasi stepped onto some stairs perched on clouds, leading to loads of seating overlooking a large track. One was a yellow filly with a firey orange mane, who was wearing a red sweater and scarf due to the chill of their high-altitude home in Cloudsdale. The other was a white colt with a blue mane, wearing a light blue hoodie and carrying a picnic basket.
"What'cha bring for the show, Soarin?" the filly asked excitedly, sniffing the basket.
"Sandwiches! And chips! And apple pie! My favorite! Thanks for the ticket, Spitfire!" Soarin said, equally excited.
"Hey, it was my mom who bought them, not me. I'm just happy she let me go without one of them breathing down my back," Spitfire said, referring to her parents.
"Your parents are wicked, Spitfire," Soarin said. When Spitfire narrowed her eyes, he quickly said, "I mean that in a good way! Like, they're cool, you know?"
"So, where do you want to sit?" Spitfire asked, laughing at Soarin's obviously flustered expression.
"Oh, uh... how about over there?" Soarin asked, pointing to a blank patch of cloud a bit away from the actual seating.
"Don't you want an actual seat?" Spitfire asked.
"Nah. They're not nearly as comfy as cloud. Besides, I brought a blanket," Soarin said, already walking to the cloud.
Spitfire helped him set up the blue blanket found in the basket, until a loud trumpet fanfare announced the beginning of the show. They both sat down and giggled excitely, as a loudspeaker announced the entrance of their heroes.
"And now, the Wonderbolts!" the loudspeaker boomed. "First onto the track is the legendary captain, Storm Rider!"
A yellow pegasus stallion flew onto the track below them, making a lap around the spectator stands and the foals' own "seats". His blue Wonderbolt outfit was as impressive as his long, golden mane. He finally came to rest in front of the spectators, as fireworks went off behind him.
"Next up, the master of setting tracks ablaze, Pyro Thunder!"
A fire streaked behind the red stallion that followed, as he zoomed far faster than any of the foals had ever seen. As he came to settle next to Storm Rider, he protested loudly, "That was only one time! ONE! TIME!"
"Wonder if you could do that, Spitfire," Soarin said thoughtfully.
"I'd rather not destroy a track, thanks," Spitfire laughed.
"And last but not least, entering now is the ever-elegant Lady Wings!" the loudspeaker continued.
The suit of the next Wonderbolt out was obviously personalized. It covered her whole body, unlike those of the other Wonderbolts, and rather than wearing goggles, frames were sewn into the suit itself. It bore the traditional Wonderbolt symbol, running sideways on either side of her suit. She flew into the air and performed a sort of odd, midair dance before settling on the other side of Storm Rider.
"Blegh. She could've gotten a better name," Soarin complained.
"I like it," Spitfire argued.
"Mares..." Soarin muttered, rolling his eyes.
"And now, on to the show!" Storm Rider yelled into a megaphone. The crowd cheered loudly, and the Wonderbolts were off.
For an entire hour, the Wonderbolts ensnared the crowd's interest with flips, dives, and more. They made use of their special smoke machines built into their suits to trail the telltale smoke behind them as they wove through an obstacle course on the track. Spitfire and Soarin watched in awe as the three came together and began writing words in the sky. The words, reaching high, spelled out "Current altitude: 3,562 feet. We measured." This humor was met with laughter from the audience. As the Wonderbolts completed their routine, fireworks went off behind them and they bowed in the air. The crowd cheered once more, while Spitire and Soarin chattered excitedly.
"That was so awesome!" Soarin exclaimed. "Did you see Pyro? He couldn't decide if he should trail smoke or fire! He's so cool!"
"I liked Storm Rider more. He's really athletic," Spitfire said. "I wonder if we could be Wonderbolts someday. Imagine it: the crowds going wild for us!"
"Oh, hey, we never ate the apple pie! Here's your half," Soarin said.
The two young pegasi began to chow down. They were slow enough that by the time they were finished, everyone else had cleared the stadium. A white-maned mare approached them. Her coat was a reddish-brown color.
"Well, hello. I believe you were the sideline foals," she said to them. "Did you enjoy the show?"
"Uh, we're not allowed to talk to strangers," Soarin said nervously.
"Relax. I'm Lady Wings," the mare introduced. Both of the foals looked at each other with wide eyes, and then loudly squeed. "I will take that as a yes to my question. What are your names?"
"I'm Spitfire, and he's my friend Soarin," Spitfire said "You guys were totally cool out there!"
"Nice to meet you. If you wouldn't mind sticking around for a few minutes, I bet I can introduce you to the rest of the team," Lady Wings offered.
"Are you serious? We can meet the Wonderbolts in person?" Soarin shouted. He immediately ran up and hugged her. "You're my favorite!"
"But I thought you said-" Spitfire began, before a glare from Soarin silenced her.
"Alright, I'll be back in a moment. They're just taking their uniforms off," Lady Wings said.
She left for a few seconds, which were filled with anxious silence. Finally, three pegasi stepped onto the cloud and walked over. They could immediately recognize the two male Wonderbolts, since they had not been wearing full-body suits.
"So, I was told you two foals wanted to see us," came Storm Rider's deep voice, though it sounded genuinely happy.
"Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes!" Spitfire shouted, leaping up and down. "You're Storm Rider! The coolest pony in Equestria!"
"Aw, come on, noone wants me as their favorite?" Pyro complained jokingly.
"Well, I can see you remember our names," Storm Rider said. "So, Spitfire and Soarin, hm? How was the show?"
"It was about the most awesome thing we've ever seen!" Soarin answered. "It must be so cool to fly like that!"
"Can you fly yet?" Storm Rider asked.
"I can, a little. Spitfire's still learning," Soarin said.
"You're lying! I can fly just fine!" Spitfire argued. She flapped her wings, but barely got an inch off the ground before they gave out. "Um, up to a certain height."
"You just need practice," Pyro encouraged. "Ever gone to summer flight camp? They may drill you from dawn till dusk, but believe me, without them, I wouldn't be with these guys. We've all gone to it."
"Wow. I am so going there next year," Soarin said.
"Do you kids wanna join the Wonderbolts someday?" Pyro asked.
"Well, duh!" Spitfire shouted. "I'll need some practice, of course, and I need to grow up, but you'll see me at the auditions!"
"Spitfire. Hm. What a fitting name," Lady Wings said. "Storm Rider, I think these two would like something to take home, don't you?"
"Oh, absolutely. I have just the things," Storm Rider said.
He pulled a bag from nowhere (common for ponies), and brought out two pictures. He passed around pens to his companions, and they each signed the two pictures before handing them to the gaping foals. They were identical pictures of the Wonderbolts - not just the ones that they met, but the entire team - and they were signed by each of the members they met, all with little messages.
"Good luck, Spitfire. I'll see you again in a few years, Celestia willing. - Lady Wings"
"I'll be sure to pay a visit to next year's summer flight camp. Better be there, Soarin! - Pyro Thunder"
"Always follow your dreams. They'll fly you wherever you need to go. - Storm Rider"
"Hey, Soarin!" Spitfire yelled, brushing herself out of memory lane. The two fully-grown Wonderbolts were in their attic, cleaning it out. "Remember these pictures?" Soarin flew over, careful not to hit his head on the low ceiling, to take a look.
"Oh, man! That was from when we were really little!" Soarin said, looking into space. Spitfire brought a smack against his cheek.
"Don't bother with a flashback. They've already read it," she whispered.
"Man, you always get the flashbacks..." Soarin muttered.
"It's a real shame Storm Rider got too old to be performing anymore. I think he was at his peak, even at his age," Spitfire said. "I heard he's doing well in Phillydelphia, though. Hm... whatever happened to Pyro Thunder and Lady Wings, anyway?"
"I think Pyro, uh, got hosed," Soarin said, apparently deep in thought. "I... think he's dead. Maybe. I'll have to check the records. If I recall correctly, he went out in a blaze of glory in one last attempt at a Sonic Rainboom. Literally. Like, he caught on fire mid-stunt and fell to the ground."
"Ugh. I didn't need details," Spitfire said, repulsed by the apparent ugly death of one of the greatest Wonderbolts to ever live.
"Lady Wings, on the other hand, is doing fine. Her daughter lives here in Cloudsdale, but Lady Wings herself retired and moved away - to where, I'm not sure. The daughter gets regular letters, and every now and then, and since she's friends with Fleetfoot, she tells Fleetfoot about the letters," Soarin said. Spitfire mentally connected the lines.
"So, Lady Wings sends information to her daughter, who sends them to Fleetfoot, who sends them to you, who are right now sending them to me," she recapped. "Ugh, I'm always the last to know these things. Which really stinks, being the captain and all."
"Say, is this picture why you write the same thing on all of your signatures?" Soarin asked.
"Storm Rider's signature? Yeah. It was good advice. Without it, I might've given up when my left wing got broken a few years later," Spitfire said, unfolding her wing to show a barely-noticable crook in it.
"Well, we better finish up, Spitfire. Practice is in an hour, and we're not even close to being finished with this," Soarin said, moving back to the boxes.
"Yeah. Trip down memory lane is over," Spitfire said, sighing. She put the pictures back in the trunk she'd pulled them from, and began dragging it out of the attic. "We've got auditions coming up, right?"
"Yeah, next week. Why?" Soarin asked.
"Oh, no reason."