She Slimed Me

by SwiperTheFox

Rating: mature
Tags: Original Character, Snails, Comedy, Sex, Diamond Tiara, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Lyra, Romance
Length: 21511

Snips and Snails find that Nightmare Night will bring more surprises then they had both imagined.

As Nightmare Night approaches, a growing conflict between Snips and Snails, both of them dealing with the pressures of growing up from colts into teenagers, boils over. Snails, dejected, manages instead to find a new, mysterious young companion. She has something special about her that he can't really describe, and this could make Nightmare Night more fun than ever.

This has been a long time coming, and I have multiple people to thank for helping me with it such as TheBandBrony, Josephdalepony, DJDasher, and many others. The great artwork came from the blog justabackdrop. Please note that here's some adult material here. Happy readings. <3

Published 2013-12-21 15:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-21 15:00:01 UTC

The First Chapter

She Slimed Me

By SwiperTheFox, with help from TheBandBrony, Josephdalepony, DJDasher, EMF, and other sweet darlings (thanks again)

Snips and Snails were commonly known around town as nothing less than an inseparable duo, finding boundless adventure under every pebble of Ponyville. Even as the years went by and they crossed the line from wide-eyed foals to curious teenagers on the cusp of adulthood, they still bumbled their way through thick and thin before coming out the other end looking all smiles. It all could only stem from a near-telepathic level of understanding and pure friendship.

That was exactly why so many ponies flinched in surprise when the two started screaming at each other.

"'No'? What do you mean, 'no'?"

The taller of the two craned his head down, glaring daggers that only intensified as he drew closer to Snips’ face. "You promised that we would go to the Nightmare Night party together. Heck, you ‘Pinkie Promised’ on it! You don't just fake a ‘Pinkie Promise’ and then expect everything to be okay!"

"I didn't fake it!" Snips retorted, still reeling from the shout as if it had been a foghorn exploding in his ears rather the words of than his friend. "It's just... you know, something came up. It's not like I'm ditching you or anything." Snips did his best to match Snails' rising levels of sheer intimidation from Snails’ staring face, though Snips still wanted to back away from the confrontation at the same time.

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm just... uh, not not ditching you! Yeah, that."

"Not... not, not dit—" Snails shook his head, his ragged mane flopping about his head, as he muttered on, "—quit using those darn word-plays on me! You know I'm no good at them."

"Look," Snips commented, trying to calm his tone of voice as his head lowered, "I'm really sorry I have to leave you hanging like this, but something just came up, honest! The last thing I would want to do is spend a super-mega-awesome party without my best friend at my side, but there are some things that are just out of my control."

Without thinking, Snails huffed, "Like that little fillyfriend of yours?"

Snails didn't even realize that he had struck a nerve until Snips' eyes all but combusted into fiery balls of pure, seething rage.

"You leave Applebloom out of this!"

Now it was Snails' turn to go on the defensive, retreating to a safe distance until his friend had calmed down a tad. "Geez, Snips, don't blow your top over it. I didn't think it was even such a big deal to you. You’ve talked about wanting to date Applebloom for years now— I know. I just... I thought that since the two of you are together now, you'd be a bit less sensitive about it. I’m sorry."

All that pent-up anger that swelled inside Snips' chest sputtered and died as he took in the crestfallen look on his friend's face. "Aw, shoot... buddy... I should be the one who's sorry. Snapping at you like I'm some sort of crazy pony— that wasn't very nice of me at all."

Tension seemed to melt as the two companions realized their own follies. Snips took the initiative and saddled up next to Snails, resting his head wearily on the other's lanky leg.

"It's just— it was so hard to get her to notice me, you know?" he said, sniffling a bit before continuing, "I go through all that craziness, read all those books about farming just to impress her, plan a whole week out to go perfectly and get her to finally realize that I exist, and then the whole thing blows up in my face like a bad firecracker anyway!"

Snails would have felt no less empathy for him if he had heard this tragic little tale a hundred times before. It didn't even matter that the number seemed more or less accurate. "I'm sorry too. If I hadn't been distracted, that bucket of varnish wouldn't have fallen on you and your roses." The words felt well-rehearsed coming out of his lips, but nonetheless genuine.

After a long moment of contact that would leave anypony but the thickest of thieves blushing, they pulled apart and offered up a pair of cocky grins as a truce. “So,” Snips finally wondered, “friends again?”

“Friends.”

“Friends ‘til the end?”

“Friends ‘til the end!”

“Cool!” Snips then delicately slid his head to the side and stared off at the nearby bench, lowering his voice. “I still can’t go with you to the Nightmare Night party.”

“Oh, come on!”

And just like that, the two were pressed snout to snout once more, boring holes into each other’s head with looks that could curdle milk from two hundred yards. Though, their looks were laced with an added layer of exasperation.

“Look, I’m still really, really sorry, but Applebloom asked me to go with her in front of all her friends, and she pulled out those really big puppy dog eyes that she knows I can’t say
no to. Geez, what was I supposed to do, turn her down and get the stuffing beat out of me by that one Scootaloo pony?”

“No... b-but, you could’ve invited me to come with you two!”

“Really?” Snips’ stare melted to one of deadpanned apathy. “No offense or anything, but you’d just end up being a second wheel for the entire evening.”

“I think you mean ‘third wheel’.”

Snips awkwardly counted out three beats on the ground. “Yeah, but— really? That doesn’t matter. Would you really want to spend the whole night following me and Applebloom around like we did to Trixie that one time? It doesn’t exactly sound like very much fun.”

“Yeah, but, I just—” The wheels of Snails’ adolescent mind stalled and ground to a halt as he took in the vivid image in his mind of him skittering awkwardly behind Snips and Applebloom, both of whom looked too enraptured by the other’s eyes to notice at all the bumbling, lanky unicorn behind them. Nor would they notice me being such a fool, me straggling behind them in what might as well be another planet.

Slipping to either lovebird’s side and joining the conversation horizontally would seem as annoying to those ponies as poking them in their chests, Snails knew. He pictured being buffeted back into his place in the rear by the brick wall of a crowd around him. He didn’t like it.

Snips could tell, as usual, and he also knew that Snails’ vision seemed far from a pretty one. Rather than saying a word back, Snips offered the sulking colt an apologetic shrug. Snails spent a spare second simply gazing off into the distance at the area off of the town square where sturdy stallions were putting the finishing touches on Nightmare Night decorations.

“Well,” the lanky colt murmured, “it still would have been nice of you to ask, at least.”

Snips searched for a response, the expression on his face with his shifting eyes and pressed together lips making it clear that he wanted to dart away to put some last minute work on his costume. Snails closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He visualized his own fancy get-up, seeing in his mind’s eye his long white lab coat coated in splotches of fake blood alongside pocket protectors with fake hypodermic needles. Our costumes match just perfectly. We picked both ours out at the same blasted time. We just— oh, gosh— I feel so weak thinking of being there without you!

“Look, buddy, you can’t just leave me like this,” Snails spat out, eyes still closed as he shivered a bit, “and the whole thing is going to start in a half an hour, for goodness’ sakes! You just... can’t!” Snails almost burst into hysterics at the rate his voice rose. “We’re friends, right? Friends don’t leave each other in the dust for fillies!”

“Snails,” Snips began as he tried to reach his stubby foreleg up pat his ailing friend on the shoulder only to fall comically, tragically short, “we can hang out sometime tomorrow, I promise for serious.”

“You ‘promised for serious’ that we could go to this Nightmare Night party.”

“That was four months ago, and you threatened to spill my first mug of Apple family cider if I didn’t.”

“Y-yeah,” Snails stumbled, “but you still said yes! A promise is a promise, no matter what!”

“Snails, we’ve spent the past three weeks doing nothing but spending time with each other. Even when we’re in school, we sit next to each other and plan what we’re going to do when we’re not in school.”

“Well, but,” Snails began, stopping as it truly dawned on him that he could rehash things another dozen times without it making much difference.

“I already had to turn Applebloom down, like, a million times so that I could hang out with you. She’s starting to get worried that I would rather hang out with you than her, and that’s hurting her feelings,” Snips said with finality, turning a bit in place as his hooves scraped against the gravelly ground.

“But you should hang out with me instead of her! She’s got a world of friends! You’re all I’ve got!” Snails all but roared into his companion’s face, surprising himself with his sudden burst of emotion.

Snips knew that neither of them really had anything more to say, staring blankly upwards at his friend. And he knew that Snails felt, deep down, the same way. With one last resigned sigh, Snips hung his head, hooves digging into the ground, and replied, “Snails, I’m really sorry, but I want to hang out with Applebloom tonight. We can hang out later, but just not tonight.”

Snails opened his mouth, but no sort of refutation came out. It remained as empty as his mind at that moment, his eyes turning as his head remained still to catch Snips trotting through the almost totally set up Nightmare Night stalls and platforms. Shouting had had no effect on the diminutive unicorn— neither had begging, pleading, praying, despairing, lamenting, and even asking politely. Snails got back off of his knees and dusted the dirt off his belly, standing up straight, and restrained himself from shouting at a Snips that simply was not there anymore.

"Hmph," he groaned, kicking a stray pebble out of his path, "Snips, gotta go and throw his oldest, most bestest friend into the river and use me as just a blasted bridge for him and Applebloom to walk on." He sighed again as he followed the same path that Snips had tread upon, his eyes dancing along the various shops and stalls around him with the fake cobwebs, fake spiders, and such almost all finished up. "This is all just so dumb! I’ll end up going to the party all alone and have a terrible time, and then he’ll feel all bad and stuff, with us ending up right back as before— he’ll never go anywhere without me again, same as the old story.”

Snails blinked rapidly. Like a rusty but faithful machine, the gears in his head began to turn, gaining momentum with every moment. He sucked in a huge breath of air.

"I'll... end up going to the party alone... and have a terrible time!" He burst out in giggles, causing the zebras beside him hosting a huge ‘Have a spooky time’ banner to shoot him stares. Never had anypony in the history of Equestria ever sounded so enthusiastic at the prospect of being the dud of the party. "I'll just show him what a mess I am without him, and then he'll feel so bad that he'll have to ditch Applebloom and go with me! It's foolproof!" Whether or not the newfound plan meant anything resembling sense remained to be seen, but it certainly had a profound touch of madness to it such that only somepony as mostly simple-minded as Snails could have possibly thought it up.

With a plan getting embedded in his head and no shortage of motivation pumping the pistons in his heart, Snails set off at a sharp trot towards his house. He had yet to change into his costume, of course— he couldn't risk dirtying it on some petty adventure before the main event. As he thrust open the back door, he gazed off at the forest behind him, spotting the sun setting beautifully above the clumps of raggedy oaks and maples.

Not that much time left until Cheerilee comes around door to door and picks the whole class up for our chaperoned fun! I need to get to my closet right now— I’ve got to be in tip-top shape if I want to be miserable! Snails skipped over to his bedroom and gave his mother, with her almost frozen in place carefully poised over an array of pumpkin pies, a sudden wave before slamming the door. She hardly had time to turn her head before Snails had stepped over to the far corner of his room.

In less than a minute, Snails had slipped completely into his Nightmare Night outfit, sliding along the carpet over to the tall mirror besides his skinny black bookshelf. He took in his whole get-up as a mad scientist in full comic-book fashion— his eyes going from his twisted goggles and tarted up hair down to his pockets filled with fake hypodermic needles. Decked from head to hoof in a dangerous looking lab coat, he had covered it with nefarious looking stains of blood and grime as well as slashes down the back like from some monstrous creation. Snails nodded before kicking up a thin cloud of dirt as he shuffled towards the not-too-distant lights of Ponyville’s main town square.

Later...

The blood on his get-up may have been fake and the goggles may have merely been his old prescription lenses accented with some creative plastic pieces and pen marks, but the scowl Snails wore rang all too real. "Stupid Snips... gotta go and ditch me right when I need him the most...”

The dejected Snails trudged heavily down the darkened street. His pent-up anger at his unfaithful friend contorted his face into a mask that would have terrified the entire town's foal population, had it not been largely hidden beneath the huge goggles and smears of pretend chemicals. He put on a mocking voice. "'I'll just meet you there! I have to go meet my date beforehoof!' Eugh!"

“Here, miss?” Featherweight loudly chirped, his voice snapping Snails back to full attention. The colt blinked before smacking into a clump of costumed young ponies in front of him, all of them huddled awkwardly at the entrance to a phony graveyard. He glanced from side to side, spotting Featherweight as a jailed inmate in garish orange and Sweetie Belle bound in fabric like a mummy— though it looked more like mere fashion experient gone extremely wrong with those bright white and blue colors— but nopony else that he particularly recognized well.

Well, that’s odd. The hay is everyone? Snips? Snails felt somepony brushing his shoulder, causing him to spin around. Seeing Cheerilee, made up as a sort of ‘queen vampire’ with long fangs in her teeth and white touches of makeup all over her face, brought him to ease for the first time in a while. She looks, gosh, rather... attractive.

“Oh, I worried that you had wandered off,” she commented, her face just inches from his ear, “you should be careful about strangers and weirdos using Nightmare Night as an opportunity for mischief. Please don’t get too far out of the fairgrounds, right? Strangers bring danger.”

Snails nodded, his eyes moving along his teacher’s shapely curves so well accented by her flowing black cloak. I’m feeling tingles all over. She stood up straighter as well as cleared her voice before beginning to make some speech to the whole group, the words just going in Snails’ left ear and coming out the right. He just gazed at her figure. Wow, that dark, mysterious look just hits me... somewhere deep inside

Snails thought back to how he had woken up one fateful day just a month before to see that puberty had hit him like an anvil crushing a peanut . Overcome with new desires for the opposite sex as well as flashes of what his parents called “finally, some intelligence”, he had tried his best to find a date for something, anything for about a day before realizing that he shouldn’t want to decimate his self-esteem too completely. Snails flashed forwards to Nightmare Night as he felt a cold chill blowing upon him, realizing that he was standing all alone— lost in thought— in the fake graveyard with his fellow students far in front of him.

“Alright, looks like the whole ‘seem miserable’ plan isn’t going to work so well if, darn it, nopony really even notices,” Snails muttered under his breath as he tiptoed across phony gravestones. A green hand covered in blood jumped out at him, smacking his front left hoof. He let out an embarrassingly feminine squeak before swapping tip-toeing for a full run. It only took a moment for him to bump against a hard steel platform, curling up his body and gasping for breath before rubbing his pained noggin.

The pounding in Snails' head temporarily distracted him from feeling the matting adhesive of a foal's sticker leave its previous perch on the metal bar and reattach itself to his forehead, its message proclaiming in bold, sassy lettering, Warning, Trick or Treaters: my ‘trick’ is heartbreaking!

By the time the hot swelling in his skull had dulled to a somewhat more tolerable level of pain, the sticker had firmly welded itself to his forehead. Snails wouldn't have noticed, anyway. He still felt too concerned with the pounding in his head to notice anything else in the world.

“Ugh,” he muttered, being so quiet that he could barely hear himself, “maybe looking where I'm going for a change might be a good idea.” Looking up proved to be just as painful as his encounter with the platform. He blinked rapidly as he heard twisted carnival music filling his ears from nearby magical speakers.

I’ve got to get where I can hear myself think. He looked off into the distance as ponies massed together. Well, gosh, I can still make this plan work! I just have to find Snips and Applebloom before I mope them into submission! Picking himself back up, Snails ventured alongside an array of stalls leading deeper into the festival grounds, scanning the crowds in search of a familiarly-colored colt and his date.

Lady luck did not seem to be with him tonight, though, for the two lovestruck ponies were nowhere to be found. This particular section of the festival seemed to hold only cheap, rigged carnival games and lights far too bright for any pony's eyes. He at least managed to get some what away from the music blaring overhead. Still, walking around aimlessly would work about as well as attempting to find matching snowflakes in a blizzard, and Snails, simple as he was, knew it.

Without really thinking, his eyes gravitated towards whatever nook or cranny seemed least likely to sear his corneas with poorly-placed lighting. As it were, that spot just happened to be a small, overstuffed tackboard crammed with papers sitting in the shadows of an especially tall funnel cake stand. One brightly-colored poster in particular caught his attention.

"Come one, come all, to the Nightmare Night... costume contest?"

Wishing not to repeat his previous mistake with the metal platform, he struck out at a cautious pace for the board, not once breaking eye contact with the banner or its intriguing headline. He read aloud, "all colts and fillies of ages one to one-oh-three are encouraged to dress up in their best Nightmare Night apparel for a contest judged by the town's own Mayor Mare, followed by a mighty monster mash afterwards. First, second, and third place winners will receive a candy prize. All contest participants are invited to the following dance. Dress well, and don't forget to be spooky."

Snails rolled his eyes at the sign's small attempt at humor, but the concept of being able to guilt his friend into spending more time with him and win candy in the process intrigued him to no end.

Well, it’s not like my other plan was any better. Plus, candy! You can’t go wrong with candy! He stood still and eyed the poster as he smiled. Thankfully, he managed to snap his mouth shut before anypony could notice the drool beginning to accumulate on his lower lip.

His jaw set and his mind made up, Snails spun around in newfound delight, letting his faux-bloodstained jacket billow in the breeze. After I win or at least come close, Snips will grovel to me. After all, he said it himself that my get-up looks better than his! The way everything fell into place so naturally as it did couldn’t have been a flimsy act of mere fate. A force greater than himself wanted this night to turn out in his favor, or so he thought, and Snails would be more than happy to oblige it.

“Alright, boy,” he growled to himself. “It’s time to get this train wreck rolling.” He glanced about at the various stalls, thinking about trying to have some fun for himself in the meantime before meeting up with Snips and Applebloom later to change their entire night.

Snails’ eyes locked onto a stall with Lyra, dressed oddly in a combination of grey pants and an immense, pocket-filled brown jacket like some kind of foreign news correspondent, throwing her front hooves around a massive case filled with various sparkly rings. Shining through and through from the pervasive moonlight, Lyra hawked them to passers-by, a couple small fillies looking right up at her. Snails glanced over at the four milk jugs stacked upon each other before him at the end of the stall.

Ugh, her game has to be just about as rigged as everything else. But Snips would just adore one of those red rings up there, he really would. And if I got it for him, that might just get his mind back on our friendship over that silly girl. It seemed like it would work as a good ‘Plan B’, which Sweetie Belle once told him his schemes always lacked. Snails tried to stand up tall, building determination.

“Test your strength!” Lyra called out, looking down at the two fillies, both dressed as changelings with their fake fangs showing off. She deviously grinned before going on, thrusting a hoof with two sticky softballs upon it downwards. “How about it, dearies?”

The two fillies recoiled as if she’d thrown a venomous snake at them, both looking at each other before darting off to the far right. Lyra merely stood in shock for a moment. Snails closed his eyes, stepping forwards while gripping his sides with his hooves.

“What?” Lyra murmured, scratching her left cheek, “I’m being too strong with my salesponyship, or something? They just think it’s rigged? Darn it! Or did I just—” She paused before shivering, her jacket clinking against her body as she walked a bit outside of Snail’s frame of view. “Now, how did it get so cold right now—”

“I’ll give it a shot,” Snails declared, opening his eyes again and extending a few bits in his right hoof. He tried to look like a big shot, glancing at her from underneath his mad scientist goggles. “Why not?”

“Fantastic,” she replied, though she still shivered once again as she collected the bits and found herself shifting over until she rubbed up against Sn ails.

“No problem,” Snails confidently remarked, biting his lip a tiny bit as he leaned himself back and aimed the first softball right at the center of the milk jugs. Just as his dad had taught him, he pictured an imaginary target circle in his mind’s eye. Snails sucked in a deep breath before hurling it with all of his might.

*Plink!*

The softball flicked against the side of the top jug before darting off onto the ground, causing the jug to wobble a bit but— otherwise— nothing happened inside the stall besides another chill breeze.

“Oh, come on!” Snails spat out, scuffing his lab coat against the stall counter— fake blood brushing upon the wood.

“Hey, now, just give it another try,” Lyra replied, scrunching her face while curling her eyes. She hardly looked innocent. “You paid for two balls, after all—”

“One second!” Snails remarked, flipping his head upwards. He felt another breeze, this time as cold as an open freezer, as well as the scuffling of a pony walking up right besides him, but he paid no attention. “What kind of milk is in those jugs, anyways? Something tells me it’s, I don’t know, high in iron content?”

Lyra stared blankly back at him.

Snails thought for a moment, glancing to his right and faintly making out a darkly dressed filly around his size. Good job, that’s a more intellectually-based joke than I thought I was smart enough to make. He smiled.

“That’s a more, well, intellectually-based joke than I thought you were smart enough to make,” Lyra whispered, apparently to herself— though Snails heard every word.

Snails popped over a few feet. “Guess where this next volley is going?” he called out, winding up and aiming for Lyra’s forehead.

“AS-MS,” went a feminine voice that seemed to come from the air above the ponies’ heads.

“Beg pardon?” Snails asked.

“Turn around, little mister mad scientist,” it went again.

Snails did so, getting a good look of the filly besides him for the first time. His eyes slid along from her dainty looking crimson hooves to her sleek, well fitting dark cloak and then over to her incredibly beautiful blackish red mane— covered in delicate-looking streaks. He noticed the chill blowing through the air seemed to emanate right from under her, though he had no idea what to think of that.

“Yes?” he asked, gazing at her smooth as silk face, her flush cheeks seeming so pretty. Darn it, focus on what she’s saying! Stop being so shallow with girls now that you’ve found a taste of adulthood!

“You seem to be commenting that it’s rigged,” she went on, walking over to a spot directly behind him as she pointed at the jugs, “and, well, that’s not that interesting. It’s obvious. The more interesting part is how do you use the rigged nature to your advantage, as much as you can.”

Snails merely nodded, trying to think of what exactly she seemed to be costumed as. Her small and stylish black sunglasses just confused him. At night? Her wispy, not-quite-all-there voice seemed to just caress his ears. She also appeared to glide so effortlessly upon the ground as she moved around his body. She’s dressed as a vampire, I guess? She’s one of the best, subtlest ones I’ve ever seen.

“Thus,” she went on— holding up her right hoof, colored in the same black, grey, and red mix as the rest of her body, “apply as-ms. In other words, ‘aim small, miss small’. Also, understand—” She rubbed against his body a bit, feeling so deeply frigid yet wonderfully smooth upon Snails’ fur that he blushed profusely. “That you need to aim, not for the center of the three jug set-up, but for the one weighted the most, which is most likely the left jug.” She gestured over.

“Aim small, just for a spot on the left one, and then they’ll all fall,” Snails said, narrowing his eyes. He paused before turning back over to Lyra, who embarrassingly acted like she hadn’t heard the whole mini-conversation.

The older unicorn then shrugged before pressing her back against the wooden counter. “Don’t forget, it’s only a hoofful of bits for another try.”

Snails contorted himself into position, looking rather like a pony-sized slingshot. The female stranger watched on, holding herself close over to Snails right. Lyra whistled a happy tune with her blase yet happy expression, making it clear that she thought Snails would never make it. He gritted his teeth, putting the finishing touches on his aim, and threw with all of his might.

*Crash!*

The bottles tumbled over to the side of the stall. Snails blinked rapidly, finally letting out a gasp. He gazed over at the gothic looking filly to his side, noticing how she stood up straight right in parallel with the abandoned barn off of the carnival area proper. Bright flashes of moonlight blared through the trees high above the barn over through to her mane and tail, looking sparkly and translucent somehow.

“Gee, thanks!” Snails remarked before turning back to Lyra. The stall operator shrugged, magically lifting over the red ring that he had had his eye on.

“Well, I merely said certain words of advice,” the filly replied, cocking her head in a way that made her glasses slide down a bit on her pretty face, “the execution was all on you, mister mad scientist.”

“I didn’t spend eight years in Mad Medical School to be called ‘mister mad scientist’, dear,” Snails commented, standing up on his hind hooves in a melodramatic fashion, “it’s ‘doctor mad scientist’.”

“Did you minor in ‘heartbreaking’?” she asked.

Oh, sweet goodness, is a girl... flirting with me? Me? Snails brain seemed to short-circuit at the thought, his nose twitching. Me? Of all ponies, me? After an awkward several seconds just rubbing his freshly-won ring between his front hooves, he forced himself to nod his head ‘no’.

“False advertising then, no?” she replied.

After the tall colt slid his head back and frowned, no idea, she turned about and led him along the edge of the Nightmare Night festival zone across to a nearby pumpkin patch. He idly followed, his heart beating like crazy as he tried to get some kind of clues from her dress. It’s like she has some kind of black eyeshadow or something that’s all behind her glasses. Gosh, I wonder what her eyes look like.

“Here we are,” she said, spinning about all of a sudden and plopping herself atop of a gigantic pumpkin, “a little more isolated to get rid of the embarrassment.” Before Snails could ask her to explain, she reached out and ripped the sticker off of his head.

He let out a feminine squeal, hooves going to the stinging skin, as the girl pasted the sticker onto the pumpkin before her. He looked out, read the message— Warning, Trick or Treaters: my ‘trick’ is heartbreaking!— and groaned. She couldn’t help but laugh. A chill breeze seemed to batter Snails’ senses with her every noise, every breath of hers that came out, somehow.

Darn it! How could I have been so stupid to think that she actually liked me or anything... she was just patronizing me... The dejected Snails already turned to the right and stepped over out of the pumpkin patch, eyeing the group of ponies assembling for the costume contest in the distance.

“Hey, wait up, uhh, what’s-your-name!”

She popped up behind him— scaring him a bit since he had neither seen nor heard her running, her body seeming to poof into place. He had no idea what to even begin to say, having the hardest time talking to even a slightly pretty mare. She trotted over to a set of timberwolf props to their side, made out in great detail in ready-to-pounce poses.

“Snails,” he said, brushing his hooves against his mad scientist lab coat.

“Pirouette,” she replied, making a curtsey in which her black cloak fluttered about on her sleek frame.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, reaching out his front right hoof to shake with her. Pirouette held out her own before coughing, her dark glasses sliding about on her face before she hurriedly shoved her hoof up to hold them flush against her face. Snails held his hoof up as she put hers up next to his.

“Ummm,” she squeaked, shaking her mane on her shoulders. Her hook awkwardly hung in the air without touching his.

“So, shake?”

“One moment of concentration,” Pirouette muttered, scrunching her mouth adorably. Snails blinked, and then he felt her finally pressing her hoof against his. She felt cold enough, as he expected from them both being outside at such a time of night, yet she also seemed to have a bit of a charge or something, her body tingly like a live wire stuffed to the bursting point with static electricity.

Feels rather, good... He almost said that out loud before snapping back to attention, shaking hooves with her and then continuing his walk over to the costume contest area.

“Oh, in my, uh, culture,” Pirouette murmured, something of a skip in her step as she followed him, “shaking hooves is a no-no.” She lowered her voice before going on. “It’s not really that practical, anyways.”

“Come again?” Snails asked, feeling confused. She shook her head, clearly not wanting to talk about that anymore, and trotted over to the end of the line of ponies besides the massive center stage of the Nightmare Night festival.

“Well, uh...” Snails hesitated, letting his half hearted sentence die on his lips. The last thing he wanted to do at this point was insult her ‘culture’ that she seemed so fond of. He felt a-okay with driving a wedge between his best friend and the filly he literally went through hay and high-water to get, after all, but just the mere thought of doing a single thing to upset the gorgeously mysterious filly that had swooped in from the heavens above and stolen his breath away— a real, honest to goodness, definitely not being paid off by Diamond Tiara as part of a sick prank, filly— made his stomach roll.

He would have to play it safe, to be sure. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t test the waters a bit.

“So, yeah,” he finally continued, “are— you know— giving gifts against your culture too?”

She turned to him, eyeing him through her glasses with a look that almost resembled confusion. “Gifts? As in, like, real, physical gifts?”

“Well, yeah. What other kinds of gifts are there—oompf!”

Snails would have loved to hear a lesson on this culture that Pirouette spoke of and how it defined gifts, if not just to hear her wonderfully wispy voice again, had she not knocked the reply right out of his lungs with a shrill, otherworldly squeal and ran up right to his side, cheek to cheek. A over-excited Pirouette leapt up into the air, mimicking Pinkie Pie’s bizarre defiance of gravity. She bounded up to him with a grin that nearly split her face in two.

“A real gift! This is so cool! I’ve never gotten a real gift from anypony before— and from a mark no less! What is it? Is it a teddy bear, or a flower? Tell me tell me tell me!”

Snails, for his part, did his best not to back away at the sudden, unexplainable shift in Pirouette’s behavior. “Erm— wow, you’re loud— it’s the ring I won from the ball toss earlier. You helped me win it in the first place, and you’ve been nice to me all this time, and you aren’t even doing it as part of a mean prank.” He mentally kicked himself for that last phrase. “So, yeah, I just thought that it would look nice on you.”

He hardly had time to get his hooves out the way before Pirouette snatched it up from his grasp and held it up to the moonlight that outlined her starstruck grin like a fine painting’s frame. “Wow, it’s so pretty,” she muttered, hardly able to force out words around her grin. “I’m going to wear this right now! This is, like, the best thing to happen to me all year, and to come after finding a mark no less!”

Still recoiling in surprise, Snails blushed bashfully. “Mark? Oh, you know, it’s just a toy ring. It’s not like it’s made of diamonds or anything.”

“No, you silly little colt,” she replied, her eyes still glued to the flimsy plastic band, “you don’t quite get it. In— uh, in my culture— getting gifts is a really big deal! Physical manifestations of strong emotions go over really big where I come from.”

“Obviously,” Snails mumbled through his shell-shock— or, more appropriately, ring-shock.

If Pirouette heard his little slight, she chose to ignore it, hugging the ring tightly to her chest and adding, “I’m going to treasure this for a long time. Thank you, again, so much.”

Alright, seriously? Snails forced a smile to match his companion's grin. It’s eight bits’ worth of plastic. Calm down.

“But wait a minute...” he murmured under his breath, seeing her slide the ring onto her front right hoof right along to where he could barely see it with her large dress.

Snail's mind, already eager for some grand idea to get himself closer to the mysterious filly, spun into action. This... this could spell an opportunity for me. I just know it,

His grin widened, despite the fact that he didn't actually know how to spell the word 'opportunity'. Yes, the grateful mare can come rushing to her stallion, swooning over him and his wonderfully thoughtful gift! Now how can I turn this in my favor?

Thinking quickly, a quality that Snails knew he was known to lack at times, the colt reared back onto his hind hooves and spread his forelegs out, waiting for a certain spookily-dressed filly to come rushing to him. "You know, in my culture, we say 'thank you' by giving each other hugs. And I happen to love hugs. How about you show me how thankful you are for my gift?"

Tragically, like so many before her, Pirouette shirked away from the lanky colt, a look of mild contempt dragging the smile down into a wry smirk. He spotted something like a glint behind her sunglasses. "Uh-uh, I'm not falling for that old trick. Your hooves will stay on the ground where I can see them. You understand? No touchy.”

A pair of hooves hit the dirt, accompanied by a huff that relayed just as much disbelief as it did disheartenment. "Whu, what? I don't get it! I don't get you.” Snails sighed before he went on, getting no response from her yet. “You go bananas over this little toy ring that I give you, but you're still unwilling to get that near me. Do I smell or something?"

Receiving only a poorly-muffled giggle in response, Snails growled a little bit, sadly sounding less like a wild animal and more like a frustrated puppy. Pirouette shifted about in front of him before they both walked into the carnival proper, Snails trying to put weight into his steps. He couldn’t believe it, but she giggled yet again, this time a bit more brazenly at Snails’ attempts to look tough.

"Seriously! We can't hold hooves, and we can't hug, and we can't even touch each other! If you're not culturally allowed to do any of that, what can we do?" Snails asked, exasperated.

Still giggling that same aggravating, wonderful giggle, Pirouette replied, "we can go to that costume contest, of course. I hear they're going to hand out candy to the winners. I don't know about you, but I would love some candy right now." Her whole body seemed to lighten up, almost to a different color with her hooves turning slightly pinky, at the mere mention of sugar.

Snails, meanwhile, blinked hard as the request registered in his head. "Uh— the, costume contest?” He tapped his chin as he reflected for a second, taller ponies in a variety of poorly done get-ups bumping around and walking around him. “Well, I mean, I guess it would mean going back to ‘Plan A’ getting back at Snips— hey, wait!" He sputtered, choking back his own words. "I'm supposed to be mad at you! Stop trying to make us have fun so I can be mad at you!"

"We won't win the contest if all we do is fume at each other," Pirouette replied matter-of-factly. Snails followed behind her as she stepped around undead pony decorations, brushing her cloak against a fake-fleshy hook on the wall. "Tell you what. Let's enter the contest as a couple. That'll give us twice the chance of winning. When we win, we'll split the take fifty-fifty." She let out a muted squeal, equal parts excitement and anticipation. "All that candy... and it'll be ours!"

Snails opened his mouth to let out a proper mope, only to recoil as two entrancing eyes invaded his personal space with all the subtlety of a rhinoceros dancing ballet. "You'll help me, right Snails? You'll help me win? You have to help me— I'm begging you! You just have to!"

Still flinching, Snails relented, "Okay, okay! I kinda wanted to go to the contest, anyway." Gosh, she’s so cute. I can hardly really think around her. He watched intently as she brushed herself upon the decorations of the nearby carnival game stalls, making her cloak fly all around her body’s shapely curves.

"Heehee, yay!" Pirouette shouted again joyously, leaping into the air. If Snails had actually been using his eyes instead of rolling them in the most obvious way possible, he would have noticed that she lingered weightlessly in the air a little bit longer than should be physically possible.

"Come on then, slowpoke," she giggled, turning on her hooves and skipping gaily a second time. By the time Snails realized that his new partner was in the process of leaving him in the dust, he tried to call after her. But the action was in vain— a candy-craze gripped her just as tightly as the ever-present cloud blurring her outline into nothing.

"Dang it, is this what all mares are like?” Should I just forget this whole ‘Plan A’, ‘Plan B’, and whatever thing about getting back at Snips? What’s the point, anyways. I just want to have... some fun. His previous mission laying abandoned and forgotten in the gutter, Snails grumbled glumly and fell into step behind Pirouette towards the main stage.

The Middle Chapter

By the time Snails had caught up with Pirouette, she had already woven her way through the loose crowd gathered around to the stage and up to the sign-up desk. She somehow could slide through their bodies like a hot knife through butter, looking unreal if Snails had paid attention. That he rarely did. “Pirouette!” he called over the small throng. “Wait up, would ya?”

Despite the din of the ponies around him all fighting a subtle battle to be heard, the fleeting giggle of Pirouette still wafted its way over the noise and over to Snails. Gritting his teeth, he ducked his head and blundered through the last few ponies separating him from his quarry. He looked to the left and right, spotting mares with their special stallions all around him as they guzzled party punch and played with spooky decorations. The jealousy ate at him more than it should.

"Hey— hey— seriously," he panted out, sucking in a fresh gulp of air, "didn't... you hear me call to wait up?"

Without breaking her gaze still aimed at the desk before the two young ponies, throngs of mares and stallions still mulling about around them and enjoying the scene, Pirouette calmly replied, "must not have. Sorry."

"How did you even get through the crowd so fast, anyway? You can't just... just..."

She didn't even bother to reply this time, tossing him nothing more than a simple shrug in reply. He noticed her magically lifting over a pen to write at the bottom of the long list before them. Snails would have started to argue, but some inner voice sounding like the authoritative bark of reason— something he’d thankfully started to hear more and more at the start of puberty— cut him off.

Listen, you silly colt! Are you going to blow the first real chance in your life to get with a flesh-and-blood mare, someone honestly interested in you for whatever reason? Are you going to make mountains of molehills here? Let her do what she wants. Let her be dominant. Get her loose and confident, first, and then she’d feel up for some fun. In January, you vowed to make this the first year of being kissed, right? You promised yourself! Snails blinked before taking a deep breath, stepping over directly behind Pirouette. “I promised,” he whispered.

She perked up her ears as she turned around, letting Snails see more of her amazingly cute face with her dark glasses slid a bit down. Her eyes seemed to hold an air of mystery to them, with something like red mascara all around them. Though, her words snapped him back to full attention of his surroundings.

“All signed up now!” Pirouette exclaimed, leading Snails away from the mass of horses to the mostly-empty food court besides the main carnival dance floor. “Let’s practice for when the time comes!”

“Practice?” Snails repeated, getting a sinking feeling at the sound of that. The fake-eyeball laden soup at the cart to his right didn’t help his feelings either.

Later...

"Fillies and gentlecolts!" Mayor Mare’s voice boomed over the crowd, silencing the torrent of squabbling by various partygoers at once and shifting their attention to the main stage erected in the middle of the town square. Decked in what had to be pounds of neon makeup and a lopsided clown wig, she beamed a confident smile from behind her podium. "On behalf of all the contestants assembled tonight, I would like to welcome you to this year's official Costume Contest! It shall now begin!"

Snails listened a bit, but, well, he couldn’t help but gaze off at Snips and Applebloom. Snips would have made a great ‘Igor’, a mad scientist lackey with the leather apron coated in fake guts and pretend yellow bulging eyes with matching warts, to Snail’s crazed doctor. Yet Snips indeed looked even better alongside Applebloom, Snails’ eyes going along from her grey painted fur to the bolts on her neck. Darn it! She’s quite a monster! Female monster, uhh... a monstress? Snails felt so hurt that he could cry, but, thankfully, Mayor Mare letting out a sudden yelp snapped his attention away.

As her echo faded into the rafters and houses beyond, Mayor Mare dove to the side of the stage, returning a moment later with a thick braid of rope between her teeth to keep the curtains from sliding open prematurely. In the moment of time between the next segment of her speech, she took the time to congratulate herself on how well the night had turned out up until then. No evil villains, no mass panic, and even no eternal Moon goddesses who attempted to cancel the entire holiday had come up. Even her jokes pre-ceremony seemed to land spot-on, which she murmured surprise for under her breath. Even if it looked little bit too perfect, she loved every second of it.

“First, you all will dance yourself silly. And then, you all will line yourselves up at the edge of the stage here. There shall be four categories that our judges and I shall judge you as— ‘Best Couple’, ‘Cutest Couple’, ‘Best Single Costume’”, and “Scariest Single Costume’,” the mare went on, motioning a hoof to the team of Big Mac (done wonderfully as a skeleton monster with glowing white make-up), Fluttershy (as some kind of flower-goddess or something, doused with petals), and Mister Cake (whose bright yellow coat flattered the duck’s bill on his muzzle perfectly).

Behind the curtain, Snails fidgeted nervously with every word the Mayor spoke, every second just bringing him one second closer to the start of the contest. The rest of the contestants didn’t seem phased by the prospect of prancing about on stage in front of the entire town at all, smiling faces on colorfully-dressed ponies chatted away around Snails’ head. Look at them as they spin around to show off to their friends.

He eyed the ponies closest to him, head bouncing about as he examined the loopy white tails around Sweetie’s mummy outfit as well as Scootaloo’s close fitting nurse cap and matching gown. Her of all ponies being a nurse? Where would she have gotten that idea? They all look so great and I just—

"Ow— Snails, Snails!" Pirouette, her eyes all but glowing with an unearthly red tint, hissed into the colt’s ear. "Watch where you step, you oaf! You're going to wreck your costume!"

"Uh— yeah, sorry." Knocked off-balance by Pirouette's last shove, Snails teetered dumbly on his hooves for a moment, falling backwards onto the colt next to him. The line of costume-clad ponies teetered, one after the other, like dominoes in a foal’s playset, before Cheerilee somehow popped up to straighten them.

The Mayor did her best to ignore the mild din coming from around by the curtains and press on with the event. “Now, let’s get this show on the road, shall we? First off, we have the dance and posing competition, judged by myself and our two lovely judges. Keep in mind that each and every winner gets a one day supply of—” She leaned over and bobbed her back hooves for emphasis. “Candy!”

The crowd leaned in, uttering a collective ‘oooh’. Snails felt a shuffling behind him, and he saw what seemed like red flashes going off behind Pirouette's glasses. She muttered something about the sheer amount of candy, clearly a bit taken back.

“Now,” the Mayor continued, “why don’t we bring out our little competitors?” The roar from the crowd spurred her to the side of the stage, where she yanked another chord of rope. The massive curtains parted at the middle, revealing the ill-prepared Snails and the rest of his friends and classmates to the crowd. A chorus of ‘ooh’s’ and ‘aah’s’ followed as the fillies and colts beamed under the spotlight of the town— all, of course, except for one particular couple by the corner who seemed able to feel every set of eyes looking them over.

Mercifully, the mayor cut in before one of them could freak out. “Alright then!” The mayor stepped between the children and their adoring crowd. “That’s enough of that. Let’s get to dancing!”

Snails stiffened, the idea of impending public humiliation turning his muscles to cardboard. In a choked back whimper he muttered, “Oh. look at that. It’s time to go on. You don’t think they’ll laugh at us, will they? I think they’re going to laugh at us. I don’t want them to laugh at us.”

Pirouette, on the other hoof, just blinked. “Alright, so it’s time to make some magic,” she commented, hovering her hooves just besides Snails’ fur before making a scrunchy face. She closed her eyes and then touched him on his sides.

Gosh, I wish she’d wear a sweater or something! Snails shivered a bit, one part genuine coldness and three parts solid nervousness, before moving about side to side. He looked out and took in a bit of the scene. The other ponies added on some fancier elements to their dances, from a quick twist here to a sudden dive there to a slow wiggle.

“One second,” Pirouette murmured, leaning up to Snail’s side closely. He gulped. “So, no duh, we both know that this is also rigged.”

“What?” Snails interjected, a bit too loud. His companion pulled him even closer as the music around them went from slow piano and cello playing to an upbeat, almost cool jazz like bounce with horns and the whole shebang. “Really? Wouldn’t that make the competition unfair for certain ponies?”

“Ugh, you,” Pirouette began, scrunching her face. Snails thought that she was going to make some remark like ‘were you dropped on your head as a foal or something’, something that he’d heard his whole sad life from girls. But, instead, she just led him on and danced at an even faster pace, tossing him around suddenly.

“Eeep!” Snails burst out.

“Look,” she went on, bringing him around in a pretty-looking loop-de-loop around the dance floor, “the crowd cares about who has the best looking costume, and the judges will put a lot of time on that but actually will just get swayed by peer pressure.” She cast an eye far over to Big Mac on the judges’ table. “The big one can’t help but vote for his younger sister, and Mister Cake’s spent too much time with her on all those apple-related specials at this place.”

“Oh!” Snails’ brain tried to get a handle on the fancy game-theorizing jiu-jitsu, but he couldn’t, his face looking flush and blank. “So, we gotta rig the rigged game, basically?”

“Yes, we keep in mind that everypony else is going for that award, and the competition will be fierce. Ponies will make up fancy-pants moves. So, we should play it smart— aim for ‘cutest couple’ instead,” she quietly remarked, posing herself in an adorable way at the edge of the stage besides the audience. A few happy mares clapped, others just gazed at her. Pirouette turned over and breathed an ice cold breath on Snails neck as she went on. “But don’t do anything stupid. We can’t fail with all that candy at stake.”

Snails couldn’t register a single word Pirouette said. Instead focusing with all his might on her nearest hoof, still defying conventional physics and flowing like a waterfall of smoke over the floor, the colt felt overwhelmed by her beauty as she mugged for the crowd. Finally, her words from earlier at the strength tester game came flooding back to him— though also along with several other baser hormones.

Use the rigged nature of the game to your advantage, as much as you can. A moment’s hesitation stayed Snails’ hoof awkwardly in mid-air. She had cutely posed by herself too much, and he knew that he had to join her in a deeply close, fur-to-fur embrace to make it all look even prettier. The thought of physical contact with the mystifying Pirouette won him over in another instant, and he reached out and grabbed her hoof— thrusting her upon him.

Pirouette’s eyes almost bugged out of her head, all but exploding into an off-shade of red. Glaring at Snails in a way just horrifying enough to keep the whimper welling up in his throat contained, she hissed, “What are you doing?”

"Y-you told me to use the rigged nature of the game to my advantage,” Snails recanted, letting go immediately, “t-that's just what I'm doing."

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow," Pirouette growled., leading him over to the back right of the stage.

"J-just getting more into it! I mean, you're the cutest thing I've ever seen, so we're guaranteed to win just with that,” Snails trailed off, biting his lip and praying to the highest heavens of Equestria that he wouldn't wind up going down in the record books as the colt who got slapped on-stage in front of half of Ponyville. Again, so sensitive at being touched! “I think—”

To his absolute surprise, he felt the electric charge gripping his hoof intensify as she thrust her body back onto his side. His eyes grew wide. His breathing also grew deep and strong.

"Alright," he heard Pirouette murmur darkly, "I'll play along for the candy. But if you do that again without at least warning me, I'll slurp your soul out of your eye sockets like spaghetti."

"Well, somepony sure is in the ‘Nightmare Night’ spirit,” he joked awkwardly, moving them over alongside the right half of the stage around the various tall stallions.

"You have no idea,” she coyly responded, and they both looked out at the smiling faces in the audience besides them.

Later...

“Alrightee then!” Mayor Mare waltzed back onto the stage, a plasticine grin plastered onto her face. “We’ve seen all the lovely couples up here on-stage, and now it’s time to choose the winners!”

Snails stomped the stage floor, flaring his nostrils with anxious breath. Pirouette took one look at his nervous demeanour and rolled her eyes. “Would you quit being such a nervous nelly already?” she inquired. “They’re about to announce the—”

“What do you mean someone put hot pepper sauce into the punch?” Mayor Mare squealed, glaring over to the tables by the far side of the stage. A raft of short fillies waved at her to stop and just look back at the audience. “I mean,” she stammered, seeing the eyes of the audience dilate as one in fear, “it’s time to announce the winners of the contest! Isn’t that lovely? And please don’t drink the punch.”

She didn’t even have to motion over to the judges before they stepped up behind her, all of them beaming. It went without saying that the voting was unanimous. The Mayor merely nodded before she struck a sort of ‘action pose’, hooves poised in multiple directions, and pointed out into the crowd.

“For ‘Best Couple’,” she declared, grinning, “Snips and his friend Applebloom!”

Snails looked on, grinding his teeth together as he watched his ex-best-friends prance upstage, hooves entwined, and snatch up their prizes. Applebloom beamed with happiness as Mister Cake placed a shiny tiara upon her head. That should be us! He snarled inwardly. Snips isn’t the best friend, he isn’t the best pony, and he isn’t the best couple!

“It takes two to be a couple, you know,” Pirouette added.

“Yeah, but—” Snails stiffened. “Wait, but I said that in my head—”

“And the next award, for ‘Lamest Couple’,” the Mayor interjected, “goes to Lyra and her Pie!”

The audience’s attention suddenly shifted over to a certain unicorn sitting idly on the edge of the stage, face engulfed in pieces of moist pumpkin as her hooves gripped a mostly empty pie tin. Lyra dropped it upon the floor as scattered laughter started to emanate out from the crowd. The Mayor slapped her forehead.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, don’t tell me somepony took some kind of time-release marker to falsify the notecards,” the Mayor groused as she suddenly dropped a few bits of paper besides her from inside her outfit.

Snails spotted Diamond Tiara off to his far right, bawling in a highly suspicious way, and he shot her a very dirty look. I suppose I should be glad that, at least, she’s not putting me in her sights tonight. He glanced over to the left and noticed that Pirouette simply stared intently at the Mayor.

“All that foolishness aside,” the Mayor went on, looking at the nodding judges, “the real second prize is for ‘Scariest Costume’, which will go to—” She dramatically stood up on her hind hooves. “Bon Bon!”

Total silence covered the mass of ponies as the mare dressed in a grimy, vaguely medical-like get-up, looking something like a decades-long confined mental patient, calmly made her way over to the center of the stage. Snails placed a hoof to his cheek. “That’s not,” the lanky colt whispered over to Pirouette, “really that scary—”

Bon Bon abruptly threw herself down and sputtered against the stage, her mouth foaming profusely as her hooves slammed every which way. Many ponies in the audience gasped. Before they could even move, a sudden explosion of blood surged out of Bon Bon’s chest. Snails couldn’t keep from looking on as the mare cried out and a massive spattering burst out across her clothes.

Nopony managed to let out a single word as a blood-soaked creature with a face-like end covered in sharp teeth literally wormed out from the hole inside Bon Bon’s chest. Somehow managing to creep off of her and make its way onto the middle of the stage, it made a horrible, loud hiss. Another set of fangs somehow stuck out from the creature’s mouth as it leapt up into the air.

“Welcome to ‘Nightmare Night’, Ponyville!”

Snails shivered as he tried to stop from screaming, as Bon Bon somehow threw herself up into the air hugging the bloody monster. He blinked, and he suddenly noticed that the monster had removed its head, placing it onto the ground. He blinked again, and he noticed that the monster sans head looked a whole lot like… Angel Bunny.

“Holy cheese and crackers! That’s awesome!” Cheerilee yelled out from somewhere next to Snails. Applause sounded out as Bon Bon and her furry friend both took a bow. Snails could hardly think, let alone move.

“Who says ‘Holy cheese and crackers?’ What are we, in a Dora the Explorer cartoon or something?” Pirouette remarked, her cloak rubbing a bit against Snails’ back wonderfully as she turned around.

As the judges patted the back of the now tiara-crowned winners on stage, Snails began, “I wonder if this means…”

“Didn’t everypony find that fascinating?” The Mayor suddenly called out, smiling from cheek to cheek. She gestured over to the judges, all of which nodded, and she cleared her throat a bit. “Now, then, it’s time for an award that I know many of you parents out there are really looking forwards to seeing given out.”

“This could be our moment,” Pirouette murmured, still moving so close to Snails. Still not quite recovered from being scared out of his wits, the colt grunted and rubbed his hooves together.

“The award for ‘Cutest Couple’ goes to,” the Mayor declared, still keeping on that big smile, “Snails and his friend Pirouette!”

The two young ponies both leapt forwards. Snails’ exclamation of joy grew even louder and squeakier as he felt his new companion gripping his side for a moment in mid-air. His cheeks turned very rosy at the sensational tingles of what seemed like cold electricity rippled across his fur. Yet Pirouette popped over and jumped onto the stage a moment later, Snails gripping his cheeks to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. I actually won something for once in my life!

“Yes, our judges thought that the couple seemed absolutely precious together,” the Mayor said, walking over to the two ponies as Big Mac and Mister Cake suddenly clung to Snails’ sides, “and it wasn’t just that their costumes worked so well as complements, with a mad scientist colt finding that only a vampire would satisfy his romantic longings. No, it’s also that we find this young visitor to Ponyville here, named Pirouette, a welcome addition to our city’s events!”

The crowd applauded on cue, and Snails could barely believe his amazing fortune. With mares and stallions lined up all around him giving him real affection for once, he let out a happy moan and hugged Big Mac besides him. Take that, Snips! I’ve grown up, and I can make my own fun without you! Snails cast an affectionate gaze at Pirouette besides him, who somehow looked prettier than ever.

“So,” Mister Cake declared, placing the winning tiaras on both Snails and his new friend, “Let’s talk a bit about our young visitor.” He slid another note-card along to the Mayor.

The Mayor began, “She comes from the city of Imadoofus, besides the large Yurahomo plain. Not too far from the metropolis of Iputoutesy, her home is governed by Mayor Touchie Cox. And—”

The Mayor froze as she came to a sudden realization. She instantly flipped her body around and glared at the corner of the audience where Diamond Tiara seemed to be laughing her flanks off, a large marker clearly visible in the filly’s hooves. Snails and Pirouette held their breaths.

"And now," the Mayor suddenly yelled, "the award of 'Most Likely to be Fed to the Timberwolves After the Ceremony' goes to Diamond Tiara!"

"Yay!" Diamond Tiara cried out. She began to gallop to the stage but froze a second later. "Wait..."

The Mayor made a gigantic smile.

"Those are fake Timberwolves, right?"

"Maybe."

Later...

“This is the greatest single moment of my entire life up to this very second, I swear!” Snails remarked as the Mayor led him and the other contest winners over to the far right side of the stage. His eyes grew wide as he came upon the gigantic barrel simply marked ‘Cutest’ being slid over to him by Applejack. Shaking his hoof with the sweet-hearted orange mare, made out nicely as a shorter but just as cute version of Cadance complete with fake horn made from a painted carrot, Snails let out a happy squeal as he slid the lid off of the barrel and gazed at the mass of shiny candies. I’m the winner! Me, of all ponies!

The audience cheered, with hoots and hollers coming from the wide variety of costumed ponies that almost overwhelmed Snails’ senses. The Mayor went on with various other announcements, but Snails barely paid attention and simply gazed at the still cheerful audience. I can’t believe they all are looking up at me and my friends! The contest winners then stepped off of the stage and began to head back towards the rest of the Nightmare Night fairgrounds. Snails gave Cheerilee a tender hug and, shoving the candy barrel alongside him with his magic, made his way to a semi-secluded spot neither under bright stage-lights nor under blaring loudspeakers.

Pirouette suddenly flipped over his back before she just hopped up and down in place in front of him. Surprised for a second, Snails buckled backwards. She pulled him closer, her hooves still feeling nicely tingly in a cold way, and smiled widely. Hearing her then make something like an animal shriek, Snails clapped his hooves and smiled back at her.

She’s giving Pinkie Pie a run for her money, hehe! Snails stepped back to let her stick her head into the barrel, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes run over her shapely looking flanks and beautiful dark red tail, which curled along her back right hoof in such a picturesque way. And I can’t let myself get that proud, after all.

“Hey!” Snails stepped over, getting face to face with Pirouette once again. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said, the mare nodding in a way that made her mane swoosh against her sunglasses. I know she’s so averse to touching, but, maybe, this might be some kind of right moment. Leaning on her body? Maybe hugging? I don’t want to seem too forward. “So, Pirouette, I guess we—” He slid a hoof over in a way that it slinked closer second by second to ‘s Pirouette’s back. “Can enjoy our prize together now?”

“Yes, we blasted well can!” Pirouette yelled back. Pushed onto the ground by the force of the scream, Snails just watched as the once demure young mare threw herself, face first, into the barrel. Eerie red lights burst out of the nooks and crannies of it as Snails sensed so much raw magical energy.

“Uh, Pirouette?”

A torrent of nasty-sounding crunching and slurping noises flew out of the barrell. Snails instinctively put a hoof to his face and kicked his body away with his bottom hooves. Barely five seconds had passed before a flash shot out of the top of the barrell, and to Snails’ utter surprise, he heard something like a muffed ‘Burp!’ sound.

“Oh, gosh,” he murmured, stepping inch by inch over to the barrell.

A loud creaking noise sounded off inside the barrel, and Snails froze. In an instant, the wooden sides of the barrel toppled over onto the ground, looking like oversized orange peels, with this dust-covered crater in the middle of it all. Snails took a moment to blink, and he suddenly made out a very satisfied-looking mare sitting beneath the dust.

“Pirouette…”

“This-is-so-amazing-that-it-makes-me-think-of-like-when-I-was-back-at-home-years-ago-and-how-I-got-my-cutie-mark-since-I-just-felt-that-my-heart-would-fly-out-of-me-from-the-pure-excitement-and-then-oh-wait-listen-to-me!” Pirouette rattled off at maximum volume as she leapt from spot to spot all around Snails, finally ending up atop a gnarly branch of the tree high above the colt. “I’m so blasted happy right now!”

“That’s cool,” Snails quietly murmured back, putting a hoof on the tree’s trunk.

“Oh, wow,” she cried out, running right along the branch over along the trunk to suddenly snuggle against Snails’ shoulder, “thanks! Thank you, thank you, thank you— you’re my hero!” Snails simply blinked, still not sure what to think about the sudden embrace let alone what to say. “Oh, mister lanky scientist, that’s going to keep me winded up for a long time! I won’t even have to, well, even bother with using up a ‘mark’! I feel so charged!”

“Y-you’re w-welcome,” Snails replied, loving how she shivered with maniac candy-generated energy with her mane tossing about upon her head and brushing all over his neck and cheeks, “and I love that you’re getting so forward with me.”

“You like that, big boy?” she commented, with a red spark shining out from behind her sunglasses as she slid a hoof along his shoulder over to his chest. She seemed so amazingly close to his body.

“Sure,” Snails responded, with his stomach abruptly rumbling at that moment. He closed his eyes, and, without even thinking, he went on. “I just wish I could have had at least one piece of the winnings, you know? Like one single caramel, or a single chocolate bar, or anything else!”

Pirouette recoiled. Snails, finding his body then leaning against empty air, fell right onto the ground, and he mentally kicked himself. Why would you give a hoot about candy when you’re so close to first base with an real, not-somepony-that-was-put-up-to-it-as-a-prank, girl? You moron!

“Oh, goodness,” Pirouette replied, and she seemed to shrink a bit, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize that—”

“There you are!” Mister Cake boomed out from behind the two young ponies, starling them both. He twisted his head over and motioned back into the main section of the Nightmare Night fairgrounds. “I’ve been looking for you both. I knew that, being such a close couple, you’d want to participate in tonight’s bobbing for apples contest as well.”

“Hey!” Pirouette called out. “Is that also for candy?”

“You have your choice of prize if you win,” he answered, putting a hoof on Snails mane, “and it’s not a contest with pony vs pony, just a thing for all of us to have some fun before the event starts close. I’d imagine that you wouldn’t want more candy having won so much already, but if you did—”

“Let’s go!” Pirouette dashed over towards the batch of carnival-like stalls. Mister Cake and Snails followed close behind.

Later...

“I’ll slide my nose to the side, and then you can pick up the edge! Easy!” Snips yelled, ruffling his mane as he took a deep breath. He pressed against the edge of the huge bucket before him.

“That makes no sense, and you know it,” Applebloom replied, rolling her eyes, “so, we ought to just have me push my nose forwards while you provide the direction.” She slid her hooves along the ground as she sniffed.

“Stop acting so arrogant,” Snails retorted, getting up close into Applebloom’s face, “and please don’t act like you don’t even want to listen to me.” He pressed hard against the bucket, making it creak.

“What is with you?” she exclaimed right back. She sucked in a deep breath. “Did you think we won before just because of you?”

The other couples, dotting along various spots of a gigantic black tarp around the middle of the fair-grounds, simply did their best to bob for apples, hardly saying anything, none of them having that much luck. Snails really couldn’t help himself from staring over at the scene, although he knew that he shouldn't. One of his hooves idly slid across the top of his own immense bucket.

“Take a picture, it will last longer, and blah-blah-blah,” Pirouette remarked as she tapped the ground besides Snails, “so, look, and let’s concentrate here.”

“Yes,” Snails murmured, trying to think as he looked at his aquatic reflection. Sheesh, this thing is big enough for me to fall into! Something about the water, magically flavored to be sweet and drinkable post-bobbing for some odd reason, resisted the power of his horn.

“How about you just shove your head down,” she began, moving her body forwards, “and let me use your nose and mouth as a kind of fixed anchor.” As Snails nodded, she immediately went on. “This stuff seems like darkish club soda to me, and I guess I’ll guide and sort of steer the apple. My nose goes up and yours goes as well. I lead.”

Snails dipped part of his head into the bucket. His companion soon followed, and Snails did his best to concentrate. Sweet glorious Celestia, she’s right besides me in the closest way, face to blasted face! Less than inches are between us now! Apple after apple came out of the bucket in just a matter of a few moments. Suffice to say, the plan worked like a charm.

“I wonder how everyone else is doing,” Snails muttered, looking over at the six apples that he had lying right beside him.

“Being too worried about other ponies is what started Applebloom and Snips’ ‘tiff, you know,” Pirouette replied, sticking her head in again. Snails said nothing as he just gazed at how the liquid sparkled with little bursts of magical energy in contract with Pirouette’s smooth red features.

Gosh, there’s pretty and then there’s amazing. For whatever reason, Snails found himself shifting a bit in place, following Pirouette’s lead rather than trying to remain still as a statue. I wonder if Snips feels about to ready to break up with Applebloom. I don’t think that would be fair at all, I guess, since he’s been a jerk but—

*Beep!*

“S-shoot!” Snails called out, startled by Cheerliee’s loud buzzer-like noise behind him as he tried to thrust his head up. The perky teacher announced that everything was over, but he felt determined to get that one last apple.

“Hey,” Pirouette exclaimed, squirming about to try and keep the apple balanced between them, “we—”

“Yes!” Snails called out as he shoved forward.

It only took an instant to happen, less than a few seconds, but it felt so incredible that, as the cliched yet true saying went, time lost meaning. Her lips slid onto his with a loud smack. He opened his eyes wide as she clearly did the same, showing off her pretty black eyelashes from behind her glasses. Pure instinct kept Snails pushing forwards, and she didn’t resist at all.

His first kiss had finally happened. Drinking in Pirouette’s feminine essence somehow, he simply let his senses swell up with raw pleasure, gazing at her beautiful figure with his eyes moving all over her. Things couldn’t have seemed more perfect to him. And then he popped his body just slightly to the left.

*Splash!*

Snails’ whole world suddenly went all tickly and bubbly. He popped himself over on the side, spitting out and shaking his head all over. Pirouette just blankly stared at him. Rubbing his hooves on his ears, he finally made out the immense chorus of laughter all around him.

“Okay,” Pirouette remarked, moving a hoof against her sunglasses.

Oh, Celestia! I’m never going to live this down! Ugh! Snails very awkwardly shifted his hooves against the side of the barrel to climb out. Every last laugh and snicker besides him from the other ponies felt like a sharp knife slashed against his bare face. I wonder if I could hide under the fair-ground stage or something until morning.

Snails rubbed his head against the ground a bit as he heard Cheerilee hushing up the other ponies. He looked over at his female companion, knowing that he seemed like a defeated animal at her side at that moment. "Oh, Snails, you silly thing," Pirouette said as Snails blew his mane out of his eyes. She smiled widely then as he shook all over, appearing somewhat like a large dog, and she moved over closer to him. "That's so, well, 'you'. And I've only known you for a bit."

"Want to, erm," Snails replied. Oh, gosh, she actually thought it was cute instead of horribly embarrassing! "Want to hang out after the Nightmare Night festival is over?"

“What a bold question!” Pirouette responded, and Snails winced. Before they could say anything else, Featherweight appeared besides Snails with a huge towel that he promptly threw right atop Snails. Getting vigorously rubbed upon, Snails then sighed.

“Sorry, I just,” he whispered, feeling himself finally getting dry, “thought that maybe--”

“Let’s do it!”

Snails, having the towel ripped off of him, stood up straight and held out a hoof. “Gosh, y-you r-really mean it?”

She arched her back as well, scrunching her nose to concentrate. Her right hoof picked up and shook with Snails’. “Why not? In fact, I think it’s just fantastic, Snails, that you want me to go to an after festival date with you.”

Later...

“I swear on behalf of everything holy that I feel like I’m heaven,” Snails murmured, walking right beside Pirouette amidst a crowd of ponies out of the fairgrounds.

“Hey, wait, you!” Cheerilee suddenly called out from beneath a gigantic maple tree at the edge of the mass flowing out of the festival entrance. Various teenage students milled about at her side.

Snails waved as he stepped over, still beaming with his cheeks so full and his smile clear, as the other students chit-chatted beside him. Pirouette hung back next to a bunch of bushes several steps away from the other teenage ponies. Snails glanced back at her for a moment.

“Oh, Snails, so I’m glad that you’ve had such a good time,” Cheerilee said, walking around the group, “and since you’re here and safe, I can just go ahead and call it a night. I’m so happy that the Nightmare Night festivities went so well, students! Please be safe on your way home! See you next week!”

Snails pulled his large saddlebag of candy over from atop a pile of rocks and placed it onto his back. As it slid over onto his side, he nodded over at Pirouette. The two of them enjoyed the scenery around them as the deeply bright moon lit up the various trees covered in nice Nightmare Night decorations.

The Last Chapter

“Do you need to go back to your house right now or anytime soon?” Pirouette asked, swishing her back a little with her tail rubbing against her hooves..

“Nope,” Snails replied, taking a gulp. Holy Cheese and Crackers! She’s like, posing for me even now, plain seducing me! “My parents had this special event with some of their friends to go to tonight that will last even early into next morning. It’s not like they especially trust me, but they thought that their thing was so important that they could just let me be alone…”

“Well, not exactly alone if you’ve got me,” Pirouette giggled, “you silly.”

Snails, seeing them getting closer to his house along the gravel road but still not quite understanding why Pirouette kept on walking slowly behind him, scratched his cheeks. “Oh, hehe,” he said, “and I was wondering as well--”

“So, since you don’t have to go there, that’s good!” Pirouette exclaimed, shifting over against an adjacent bush for some reason with the dark raspberries matching her mane and coat wonderfully. “Don’t go home! Not like anyplace hot or bright or like-- and, uh, don’t do that! Yes!”

Snails looked on as tiny pulses of magic went along Pirouette’s face. Is she like sweating or something? “Oh, alright,” he replied, finding himself walking backwards on the path without even really thinking, “so what’s the plan?”

“Where we go depends on what we want,” Pirouette cryptically responded, her expressions moving from nervousness back to calm as she moved her cloak upon her body a little.

“Were you thinking going home to your, erm, home?” inquired Snails.

“Oh, yes!” Pirouette waved a hoof through the air as she led Snails along a corridor with tall raspberry bushes and rusty metal gates off of the main path. “We can continue things there.”

“Things,” he repeated, not really liking the ominous look of the sprawling, gnarly trees coupled with the moldy piles or rock around him as they went along this unfamiliar path. Her smile also seemed to morph into more of a smirk, though she still swooshed around her mane in such a pretty way. “Pirouette?”

“Yes?”

He ducked to avoid a huge, scarred-looking branch. “Pirouette, I guess your place is this temporary-type housing that’s maybe like an isolated, abandoned barn at the edge of Ponyville?”

Rather than reply, she popped over to the right into a sudden gap in the row of bushes. Snails just blinked. Gosh, she seems to ‘poof’ into existence being so fast sometimes. “I suppose that’s a ‘yes’.” He followed as his eyes scanned the clearing around him.

“It’s not quite a home kind of home, but it’s a place for when I, well,” Pirouette said, not finishing the sentence as she saw some of the color draining from Snails’ face. He stared upwards at the various tattered curtains, the broken windows coated in thick dust, the ancient looking wooden sidings, and everything else that made up the very dark and very cold seeming giant barn before him. Pirouette did some kind of little dance in place, rubbing her glasses with her hooves as Snails turned back at her.

“W-well, uh,” Snails began. Don’t you dare blow this! Don’t you dare! A first kiss is already your pocket right now, and you’re about to go for gold! About to get to second base! Now suck it up! Second base beacons! With a jumble of metaphors he’d heard from his stallion friends bouncing about in his skull, Snails took in a big gulp. “S-sure, we c-can s-spend some time here.”

Pirouette nodded back as Snails felt, somehow, his confidence building.

“And as for what exactly we can do here,” he began.

“Exactly,” she repeated, still nodding.

“Now, with the n-night drawing especially l-late,” he said, feeling a deep warmth starting to spread through his insides as Pirouette so beautifully rubbed her hooves into her mane, “I must c-confess to you.”

“Oh?” She sat down upon the stairs into the mysterious barn.

“I c-confess that,” he continued, standing up straight but still having nervousness almost drip from his features, “I’d r-really like to take our date f-further. Then, u-uh, doing m-more--” Spit it out already! He closed his eyes tightly. “Doing adult-things with you.”

Oh, come on! That was a terrible way to put it! He peeked out to see her looking as pretty as just a moment ago, still smiling. “Oh, what kind of ‘adult things’?”

“Why, l-like,” he replied, senses so filled with raw emotion, “I w-wish we could do s-special adult things.” When she cocked her head to the side, he went on, trying to clean up his voice. “Like, uh, well you know I just had my ‘first kiss’ not too long ago.”

“Mine too,” she cooed back, opening the barn door behind her a bit yet still gazing at Snails.

“I confess that I want,” Snails said, “to have-- no-- to give you my first--” He had to gather strength from deep inside of him, still sensing that strong inner heat to guide him along. “I want to give you my first of another adult thing.” He clutched his own body tightly as he saw the darkness around them getting thicker and blacker. “Can we?”

“Yes!”

Pirouette seemed to vanish into the barn as her holler back to him seemed to gather a wispy, unearthly quality. The word appeared almost to hover around the air atop Snails’ head. He took in a large breath, and he watched as the night’s darkness somehow became so full and so cold.

Snails stepped up the stars and pressed his right hoof against his cheek. He hesitated as his eyes adjusted, the moonlight helping at least a little. Somehow, Pirouette’s last word had managed to seep into him, with the stallion feeling as if the sound of her reply had triggered a wave of deep heat through his insides. Awkwardly rubbing his legs together as the heat migrated to between his legs, he waited still in place for a minute.

“Pirouette?” Snails pressed his hoof against the ancient barn door, his voice faltering a bit as he watched the shadows sliding about the dank expanse. “Is everything, ah, okay?” He stepped forwards, the door loudly creaking open. His breathing tensed up, his mind feeling mostly blank, as he took into account the huge, mostly empty main room and the smaller rooms off to his right. “I’m happy to be here with you and all--”

“You,” murmured a slight, wispy voice, seemingly coming from nowhere.

Snails felt the cold, dry straw matting up beneath his hooves as he wandered around. Sensing something off somewhere in the lofty area above him, his eyes slowly slinked about. He brushed up against a rusted pitchfork and a pile of what felt like rusted barbells. The moonlight shone through the numerous cracks and gashes in the ceiling, at least giving him a bit of light, yet that also gave some hint of malevolent character to every last shadow he saw.

“Pirouette,” he muttered, hearing a quiet ‘brush-brush-brush’ sound from deep over inside the next room. He let his mouth hang open, the chill wind blowing his mane about his face for a for a moment as he gathered himself." Whatever her problem is, whatever she wants to do, whatever game she’s playing, and whatever the hay she’s trying to say— well— I just— simply— don’t care! “Are you in here?” The feeling that Snips had joking called ‘the need to breed’ ached inside of Snails like a throbbing illness. “Pirouette?” He poised with his hoof over a decayed, old door with a large metal star.

He heard nothing but silence. Snails grit his teeth together, determination rising within him. We’re long, long, past the time where I can stand this jerking around, Pirouette. You and I know exactly what kind of ‘adult things’ we both talked about. Creepy brushing noises, as repetitive as a metronome, amped up in volume as he prepared to enter the barn’s side room.

“Something about me,” said a voice that Snails could barely hear, making him wonder if it was just his imagination. He simply put his hoof down upon the wood, letting out a deep, strong breath, and pushed it forwards. The whole world seemed to stop for a moment as he stepped inside the other room.

Redness, a vibrant and deep color that seemed to fill up the whole room, assaulted his senses. He blinked repeatedly before taking a deep breath. What looked like an alien strobe light coming from all over the ceiling suddenly shifted into a red, glowing orb in the middle of the floor, quite a ways away from him yet feeling far too close nonetheless.

“Pirouette,” he mouthed, not saying a single bit of it. Bright— deep— red right there, gosh, it’s like I’m seeing some kind of of...

Snails couldn’t even sense his heart beating as he looked out at the floor. That side room where he stood, all secluded off from the rest of the barn, had grimy stone walls besides various rusty metal shelves filled with rustier tools, moonlight only darting in slight strands every which way. He tried to make out the unusual-looking figure before him.

That large, black-bathed something sat right in the center of the room, facing off against the opposite wall away from Snails, with its features indistinct other than two tiny, bright red dots upon the top of the object. The more Snails concentrated on the figure, the less he seemed to see. Though the being looked so much like a mere optical illusion, a very real, very sharp surge of terror went through Snails’ body.

Body quivering, with the open door beside him feeling thousands of feet away, Snails forced himself to stand up straight and raise his voice just the tiniest hair louder, “Pirouette?”

The figure turned over, those burning red eyes aimed straight at Snails’ chest. His eyes seemed to grow into saucers as he watched the mare facing him on all fours. The creeping darkness around her seemed to eat up her fur, black burns layering atop slashes of decay upon her dark grey body. Her featureless face, almost all covered in shadows, opened to reveal a large slit with some kind of unearthly, sickly red film dripping out of it.

Snails couldn’t say anything back. He couldn’t think anything back. All of his body functions seemed to have just stopped.

She moved forwards, body shifting across the floor with her hooves seemingly melting against the ground. It all seemed so alien and so wrong. Snails shut his eyes tightly for a second, his body pressed up against the cold, hard stone behind him. He sensed her presence lined up right in front of them, then, his mind counting down the moments until he’d have to look out once again.

“Pirouette,” he whispered, so faintly that he couldn’t even hear his own voice, “so that’s you? Right?” She apparently could hear him nonetheless, making a gentle noise by shifting about ever so slightly. Her breathing sounds then seemed to coat all sides of him, pinning him against the wall like aerial hoofcuffs.

He heard a soft yet sharp whine, something like a mental cry, and he forced his eyelids open, tiny bit by tiny bit. He made out the dark, mysterious figure before him. Head faced against the ground, he lifted it up, finally getting a sharp, lit look upon her face. A face… without eyes?

Snails finally let out a huge scream, his hooves wailing up in the air as he felt his heart beating like crazy. The mare’s small, smooth holes where eyes should have been leaked out a stark, inky blackness below him, her unicorn horn bathed in dark red energy matching the dark red aura oozing out of her mouth. Snails, still screaming and still shivering in fright, locked his hooves against a wooden pole to his side.

The mare simply glared up at him with her non-existent eyes, breathing out with a stark, low growl. As drips of thick redness poured off the side of her face into the straw below, Snails pressed his body against the wood besides him, digging in as terror kept its grip on his senses.

“Snails,” moaned the mare, this time sounding a lot more distinct but still just as menacing.

Snails finally realized that he had jumped straight up, causing him to grip onto part of the ceiling itself and finding himself sitting awkwardly atop a shelf. He tried to steady himself, bringing his raging fight-or-flight responses back under control, and he raised his voice. “Pirouette?” he asked, looking over at the big, poofy tail curled beneath the mare’s black body, “what in the hay is all this?”

“That’s right...” the figure moaned back, circling around underneath Snails’ position like a hungry lioness awaiting her prey. Pirouette’s horn lit up a bit more, grey and black ripples going across her red aura. “Gosh, your fear is so incredibly delicious. And, I’m surprised, you scream pretty girly for a stallion.” An absolutely nasty-looking grin curled across Pirouette’s face. “Even tastier to drain.”

“And, so, your ‘adult’ things,” he called out, though he didn’t have to wait for an answer. His eyes suddenly flashed over to the wood he sat on, creaking with this weight. He looked down to see her simply nod back, her red, glowing eye-less areas narrowing. Snails saw the wood snapping in two in his mind’s eyes, and he tried to curl himself over to reach the top of a hard-looking solid metal shelf across from him.

“Surprised?” Pirouette let out, a low, raspy chuckle following. Snails saw her shifting more towards the door as his hooves positioned themselves more carefully upon the shelf underneath him. He felt oddly used to seeing her like that already, what with a semi-dangerous climb down focusing his attention elsewhere. Pirouette raised a hoof and rubbed it against the bottom of the shelf. Snails gasped as he saw her hoof pass right the through the wood, like something out of an optical illusion.

“Uh, yes,” he eked out, going carefully down to the next to last shelf, “yes I am.” He made out Pirouette’s body sliding to the side, her mane flicking against the metal. That brought a soft brushing noise with a tiny clang at the end. Dear goddesses, none of that was for show, for the party, at all. She really is some kind of ghost. But did she mean everything else that she said? Did she really like the dancing? The hoof-holding between us? The kissing? It all seemed so sincere!

“Then you should, uh, be ready for your worst nightmare, boy,” Pirouette declared, her mane passing over her eyes as she stood up straight. Yet her words sounded as hollow as, well, a ghost, with her tone of voice then hesitant and soft. As she focused her attention on the bottom shelf well beneath Snails, she pressed her hooves against it, apparently trying and failing to keep from having them dissolve seconds later. She then made a weak groan.

With quite a different feeling filling up his senses, Snails safely slid himself over onto the sturdier metal shelf, his body leaning up against the wall as he turned to face his spectral date. Pirouette braced herself against a bunch of barrels to her right, ignoring Snails, with her front right hoof scratching against the wood and her front left hoof transparently penetrating right through it. She hopped slightly forwards.

That made her let out a low “oopsie”, her ghostly body quivering a bit as she made it onto the bottom shelf only to immediately fall back onto the floor. Snails stared as he stepped down his own bunch of shelves. Pirouette followed up by brushing her mane with both front hooves and murmuring, “Stupid spectral translucence, can’t even climb up a set of blasted shelves without hyper-concentrating.”

“Ahem,” Snails interjected, hopping completely off of the shelves onto the floor.

“Oh, right,” she muttered before clearing her ghostly throat. She then stood up straight. “So, ah, prepare to be scared out of your wits! Ooooh, gonna get you!” She oozed a bit more red blood-like fluid from her mouth.

“I’ll bet,” Snails remarked— putting on a bit of a smile for the first time as he noticed just how Pirouette’s swagger seemed completely forced. He couldn’t begin to explain it. Yet that fire that she had lit inside of him, burning ever since their first kiss as they bobbed for apples, seemed to course along every inch of his body.

Pirouette stepped away from the barrels, her body leaning down as the moonlight from a gigantic gash in the ceiling bathed every inch of her. It seemed as revealing as ripping the wrapping off of a present, and Snails felt just as satisfied. His smile grew wider as he saw how her grey, partly transparent body looked more ‘sleek’ than ‘creepy’ in the strong light. Her fluffy and thick crimson mane naturally drooped over a good half of her face, putting the matter of her non-existent eyes out of the picture. Even the mysterious film dripping out of her mouth looked less like ominous blood and more like gooey raspberry jam every second .

She looked beautiful for a ghost, more like a slender gothic girl than anything else. Pirouette made a cat-like pose as her plot shifted up and her head shifted down. Her head swayed from side to side as her tail stuck up and her voice made a deep groan. She clearly wanted to keep looking creepy in true Nightmare Night fashion. But, in Snails’ heart, that ship had already sailed.

“Confused?” Snails asked, putting on a very masculine poise as he stepped right in front of his date. He held his chin up, his hooves positioned along his sides just as his de-virgin-ized friend Pokey Pierce had told him. Be assertive. Be dominant. She knows what you want, and she doesn’t want to let you in on the secret that she wants it every bit as badly.

“I, uh,” Pirouette murmured, scrunching her face and letting the seeping red stuff coming out of her mouth slow to just a trickle, “I know you’re… still scared at least a little bit…” The bafflement flashing through her senses just made the mare seem even more adorable in a dorky sort of sense. She anxiously brushed her two front hooves together as she sat down flat upon the ground, one of her solid hooves bending in hilarious fashion upon one of her ghostly hooves and making them look like a pretzel. “Now, you, ah…” She took a gulp, and she tried to warble her voice once again. “Now… you… know… the truth about me… ooooh…” She stuck out her tongue and slurped her lips.

“You know, Pirouette,” Snails went on, having walked up such a way that had had pinned the ghostly mare into a brightly lit corner, “I think it’s long, long past the time that we stop the playing around.” He chuckled as he saw Pirouette crumpling further into a sitting position before him, her body almost freezing in place. “It’s Nightmare Night. It’s our first date. It’s gone great so far. We’re alone in the abandoned barn at the edge of the Everfree. The full moon is out.”

The full implications of Snails words slowly started to hit Pirouette. Pieces of her body seemed to fade in and out of transparence as her cheeks turned from dark grey to pink. She couldn’t even begin to say anything back, though.

“You don’t need to mention a single word, Pirouette, because I know,” Snails continued. His breaths had grown steady, and his legs opened out from the throbbing that had returned from between them. That’s it! Be steady and be strong just like Pokey said— that’s the ‘alpha male’s’ way of thinking! “You met me thinking that I’d be easy to scare. You led me on all this time, thinking that you’d get a nice easy mark. I guess you type get energy or whatever from fear. But you unlocked something, even if you didn’t want to. You lit this fire. You can feel it burning in me. And I know it’s burning for you too.”

Pirouette hardly managed a response, simply nodding at Snails’ words. The stallion finally stepped up directly in front of her, his face mere inches from hers. She glanced down his body, seeing exactly how ready he felt, and she seemed to shiver. She reflectively turned her head around and faced against the wall as she made a ghostly whine, far more emotive than scary.

“You and I are here in this in barn, together totally alone for the first time. And I know it’s been on both our minds, after all,” Snails said, brushing his chin as he tried to make out the inner war going on inside of the trembling ghost girl before him. He could hardly keep himself from simply pouncing on her. “For both of us, well, we entered this barn with—”

“Oh, gosh,” Pirouette sniveled, whimpering as her dark shaded back flashed different colors.

“With our cherries,” Snails finished, laying things on the line as his heart pounded hard inside of him. He gazed upon Pirouette’s slender sides, as perfect as anything he could have ever dreamed out, as she turned her head and sniffed loudly.

“You’re my— my— my— scare mark,” she murmured, rubbing her head against the wall as her flanks remained presented out right in front of Snails’ face, “and it’s— it’s— I like you, I really like you, but it’s just, not—”

“I don’t care.”

“My, my eyes,” she moaned, running her front hooves through her mane, “and everything else aren’t cute in ‘normie’, in ‘normal pony’ terms. Just look at my—”

“I! Don’t! Care!” Snails called out, throwing his hooves against Pirouette’s backside and getting a face full of her tail. Cold yet fluffy sensations fluttered through him.

“Even if I did fail to truly scare you, sure,” she answered, putting on a pleading tone that clearly didn’t match the supplicant, pleasing pose of hers, “that’s one thing, but— gosh— the ‘normies’ don’t do these sorts of things with ghosts! They just can’t!”

“Listen, sweetheart,” Snails growled, stretching his body over on top of Pirouette’s and rubbing his muzzle against the back of her neck, “the answer to anything and everything you can say is ‘I don’t care’. And—” He grit his teeth as his front hooves massaged Pirouette’s shoulders. “If you say another word implying that I should care, then I’ll have to plug that hole .”

“Oh, my goodness!” Pirouette screamed, curling her head backwards as Snails ran his teeth against her left ear. She sensed every last inch of his stallionhood, hard as steel, as he nudged it up along her thigh. She made sing-song like, ghostly sighs as Snails’ body rubbed perfectly on top of hers.

Snails shifted a bit off of her, gazing down upon her flanks. Her marehood, totally solid-looking as well as dripping wet, responded wonderfully to his touch. Pirouette squirmed about in place as her face contorted with pleasure. He bent over and gave her slit a set of long, slow slurps, and her magical red aura built up around his mouth. She didn’t just taste marvelous, his tongue feasting all about her flanks; she tasted tingly and bubbly against her lips almost like magically-charged champagne.

He finished up, kissing along her thighs, and he looked over to see her back hooves rippling with black electricity. He stood up behind her and lined up his stallionhood mere inches from paradise. Hesitating, he planted a trail of kisses against her back, rubbing her tail all between his hooves as well as across his cheeks and chin.

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, do it,” she groaned. He found spots of her tail fading and out of existence, her ghostly red aura blinking through her body, Pirouette revealing some kind of inner energy. “Take my virginity! Please!”

“Do it,” Snails repeated, feeling suddenly extremely nervous at the moment. She’s there, I’m here, and it’s all… all… oh, gosh… He felt very exposed at the moment, the moonlight bathing him as much as it did Pirouette.

“Make a real mare out of me,” Pirouette moaned, her back hooves sliding across the floor to fit Snails’ position even more easily, “and treat me as a flesh and blood lover, please, oh, please...”

He thrust himself forwards. Flashes of dark shapes and colors lit off all in front of him, the sensations like nothing he could have even imagined. Her body glowed from head to hooftip as she repeatedly let out her low, wispy whines. He slid himself out and forced himself right back in again, enveloping her entire back with his chest and front hooves. She somehow seemed to shrink for him, fitting perfectly underneath his body as his stallionhood rutted her..

Thrust after thrust, he went on and on. His mind seemed to melt with wave after wave of bliss. Bursts of sticky, wet coolness flashed in between his legs. She seemed so wet and sloppy on the inside, somehow. She felt so loose and so fluid, yet so inviting and so tender. Snails pulled out once more, panting hard, and he gazed downwards.

His eyes twitched as he saw her thick red, raspberry jam-like goo— tingling with ghostly energy and sharply cold— dripping along his stallionhood. He looked upon her flanks, seeing a huge, oozing hole in the middle of her rear almost like a mold of gelatin shoved with a big fork, and he trembled, not even sure where to begin. Pirouette— her tail and mane already melting before him as well from a solid mass into a pony-like shape of quivering, energy-filled goo— let out a half-scream. She sounded nothing like a ghost and everything like a mare in heat.

Animal instincts completely took over. Snails, his mind given to one purpose and one purpose only, slid himself back into her plot once more, feeling that crashing upon his senses of deep, almost painful coldness with wonderful wetness. The pleasures just couldn’t seem to even begin to stop. He dominated totally over her, molding her with every move of his hooves and his still hard stallionhood. Snails braced against the ground, grunting loudly as he bit down upon her mane. The strands went from solid locks to ghostly goo to tingly liquid in his mouth in a split-second, leaking right out of his teeth. The sweet, sugary taste was just amazing.

“Oh, I don’t even— ugh— know if I can— oh, holy sweet gods— stay solid at all for you anymore,” she moaned, making delicious-sounding pants as Snails rutted her. Those words only made him dig his hooves into the ground, let something like a restrained roar, and start again with full force, working like a jackhammer. She banged her head against the nearby metal shelf with every pump, half of the time passing right through while half the time sounding a huge clang.

“Pirouette, tell me!” Snails suddenly hollered, feeling his body slinking even closer to the floor as all four of her hooves melted shorter and shorter like candles from the blissful sensations going through him. “Tell me ‘I’m yours’!”

“I’m yours!” Pirouette shrieked back, barely sentient anymore as she got slowly ground right into ectoplasmic nothing. “I’m yours forever, Snails!”

“Say ‘you own my plot’!” His thrusts seemed sloppier and sloppier, the sounds of his stallionhood slapping into her gooey, disintegrating flanks almost like a hard, metal whisk getting shoved into delicious cake batter. “Say it, damn you!” He tried to grab her mane once again, but his hoof passed right through as her locks faded completely into a ghostly outline in the air.

“You own my plot!” Her voice seemed to amp out even louder, her body shivering through every last solid or at least semi-solid inch that remained. Snails grunted as he mashed his teeth, ready to pop his load at any moment. “You own me! You’ve got me!” The thrusts somehow managed to get even faster, surging red blasts of bliss-soaked magic making her look like a power coil. “I’m yours! I’m your toy! I’ll haunt you wherever you go!”

“I’m going— oh, gods— I’m going!” Snails burst out, tears of sheer pleasure pouring along his face. His body seemed to burn with a continuous chill yet blissful fire, freezing tingles bathing him both inside and out as her dark red gooey essence covered him.

“Oh, please, shoot it inside— inside— oh, gods— fill my cold ghostly thing with your hot, sticky seed— every last warm drop— melt me! Melt me! Melt me!” Pirouette screamed, the barn filling up with ghostly wails that might as well have alerted all of Ponyville.

Snails collapsed downwards, his mouth slurping against the back of her neck as he shoved himself as far as he could inside of her. That was easier said than done, her body decaying almost completely second by second. Still, Snails embraced her the best he could, hooves locked against her gooey, glowing semi-solid hooves, as he poured himself out into her. His stallionhood throbbed, hot love juices almost pouring out. The powerful sensations, causing red and black magical flashes to set off like firecrackers across the entire barn, seemed to just burn his senses from the sheer pleasure.

After some huge space of nothing passed, Snails took a deep breath, blinking rapidly. His mind coasted atop a wave of frothy, sensual bliss before he came to his senses. Having clearly slept, he spun about in place for a moment, eyes darting around left and right. The whole barn looked the same, his body lying down right beside the door between the tool room and the rest of it. Holy cheese and crackers, how long was I out? He tried to stand up, but he immediately slipped over and tumbled out the door into a stack of hay.

“What the,” he muttered, brushing himself clean.

“Mind the ‘me’ spilled on the ground there, sweetheart,” said a familiar voice from somewhere above him.

Snails stood at upright attention, scanning everywhere around him. The moonlight still shone out, although he seemed to have gotten a least a nice nap. The barn seemed totally empty.

“Eyes up here!”

He turned his head straight up, and she saw Pirouette’s smiling face, although her body looked about halfway transparent. He took a deep breath, and he sensed Pirouette sitting over on top of his shoulders with her ghostly limbs tussling his mane. She seemed almost like a watercolor painting— a faint outline around an shapely body without much there except for limbs and a mouth.

“Sorry, Snails, I didn’t last that long in more ways than one,” Pirouette remarked, giggling.

“How long was I—”

“Oh, only fifteen minutes or so,” Pirouette replied, and she patted against Snails’ cheeks. He blushed as his eyes feasted on her pretty body. “So, sweetie, I think you should probably get going to bed for real.”

“Oh, right,” Snails muttered, letting himself yawn. He reached up and scratched his chin, heading for the main barn doors out but stopping right beside the door. “But, uh, I had—” He tapped his two front hooves together. “I had told mom and dad that I was staying over at someone else’s house.”

“Awww, that’s sweet,” Pirouette commented, flowing off of his back and brushing against Snails’ back. He couldn’t believe the surreal experience— the ghost’s touches against him feeling more like static tingling or smacks of wind than anything solid.

“So, ah...” Snails cleared his throat. “Just to be clear: Your house is…”

“You’re looking at it,” Pirouette said, flying off of him and sailing around by the ceiling of the barn. Her ghostly hooves kicked against the open window as she made a loop-do-loop, aiming over back at Snails.

“Okay,” he replied.

Pirouette took a spot next to an old lantern besides a stack of boxes. Before Snails had time to blink, she had shrunk herself in and snapped the latch shut. Snails stepped over, eyes wide open.

“Of course,” Pirouette went on, her voice sounding rather tinny coming from inside the lantern, which glowed at every word, “I understand if you’d rather go home. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Before Snails had time to say a word, Pirouette made another low, painful-sounding ghostly wail. “Oh, well, I understand if you never want to see me again, ever. Especially after lying to you. Trying to scare you. Using you just as a possible source of pk-energy from scaring you, treating you like a battery rather than a stallion. You can just, well, go. If you want to.” The voice grew more and more faint, as did the light inside.

Snails leaned over, holding up the lantern in the middle of his front hooves and gasping. “No, please! Pirouette!” He had a hard enough time with normal mares— adding the whole undead angle just made it all ridiculous. “I— I— I’m more than willing to sleep over with you!”

“Really?” asked the cute, squeaky voice from inside the lantern.

“For the rest of the night,” he went on, “until the next morning.”

The door flew open, and she sailed through the air over back upon his back. “Oh, that’s just fantastic! And, well—” She made a funny sort of burbling noise. “There’s not just here in the way of, ah, accommodations for the corporeal. But there’s some primo straw right over there.”

Snails didn’t feel in the mood to argue, as much as he missed his fluffy cotton pillows from back home, so he sighed softly as he walked to the least dusty corner of the barn. He reached down and matted out the straw into something like a bed, lying flat. As he tried to his best to make himself comfortable, barely succeeding, he gazed upon Pirouette’s body shifting in the air above him.

“Can I, please,” she said, putting on an adorable tone to her voice as her ghostly body perched over yourself, “ah, sleep in you?”

“I had, well, kind of assumed you would,” Snails said, patting down a clump of hay to his right. He smiled. Meanwhile, Pirouette just let out a big laugh.

“No, you silly, I mean ‘sleep in you’,” she went on, the ghostly spirit moving down until her felt her coming over his fur. Snails just awkwardly blinked back at her. “Of course, I could spend an hour or so to concentrate myself solid again, and then the romantic cuddling would be nice, but trust me that you’ll love this even more.” Not even sure how to begin to think about this, Snails froze perfectly still. He felt her trademark coldness rippling up his sides, her magical aura coursing around the straw below him. “Just calm yourself down. Relax, sweetie, this won’t hurt a bit. In fact, well, this sort of closeness is a bit more than you’d ever get from a ‘normie’ girlfriend.”

Snails felt tiredness flow through him. Yet, with his mouth opening up and his body relaxing, he seemed more peaceful, more content. As he sensed her dark, red energy going off inside of his body, her coldness transmogrified into something else. He seemed more, somehow, full— as well as, actually, pretty warm.

“Pleasant dreams,” Pirouette murmured. Although the voice seemed to come from inside his own head, Snails nodded off just the same. “Thank you, Snails, for making my Nightmare Night one to remember forever.”

Several hours later…

Snails stirred, feeling himself overcome by a funky sensation. He blinked as he slid upwards in the straw. Everything, from his hooves to his face to his chest and all in between, felt soaking wet. He pushed himself the wall, trying to stand up, and he marveled at the mixes of thick white love juices and foamy red ectoplasm that coated where he had lain. He made a low moan as he tried to brush the goop off of his own fur, merely rubbing it in further. His colthood seemed bathed in enough ooze that it looked as red as a jalapeño.

Snails glanced to the side, and he saw Pirouette— looking solid enough as she had during Nightmare Night— standing above him on a clump of crates. She whistled quasi-innocently as she looked out at the pretty sunrise.

“You slimed me!” Snails cried out, pointing his front right hoof straight up.

“Moi?” Pirouette replied, looking like the cat that had swallowed the canary.

“Well, you could have, at least, waited to ask or something,” Snails grumbled, getting ready for the door. He hoped that he could slip over to his house for a nice, long shower without anypony noticing. “I’m coated in my own seed and worse right now! How am I supposed to keep half the town from laughing at me?”

Pirouette scoffed, “well, whose fault was that! Mister ‘horny enough for four sequential morning woods in one single morning’, sheesh!” She danced a little circle in the air before she hopped over the crates, adjusting her mane. “You can’t imagine what it felt like to share that mind with you!”

“I’ll bet,” Snails muttered, and he stepped on out of the barn and over towards Ponyville. He heard a ‘plink’ noise behind him, making him spin about. He watched as what had once been Pirouette standing in the doorway behind him flashed into nothing. It felt like looking at a movie with a scene missing. He glanced over closer, however, and he spotted a bright silver ring on the ground besides the door jam.

Our promise ring! Snails picked it up, sliding it over a hoof, and he took a deep breath. I had almost forgotten winning that for you! Now, then, what the hay is going to happen now?

“Why, I’m coming home with you, silly!”

Snails glanced all around for the exact source of Pirouette’s disembodied voice. “Uhhhhh…” Oh, gosh, I hope she’s not reading my thoughts! He wandered around in the forest cleaning for a moment, coming back onto the path towards the Schoolhouse and then to his home.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Pirouette went on, “you mumble. Ghost. Good hearing. That sort of thing. I leave your private thoughts alone— I have to or else I’d lose too much pk-energy. We shared a body, remember?”

“Where…”

“Get out of the bucking light and you’ll see!”

Snails, already about halfway to his house, ducked below a gigantic maple. He hesitated for a moment before seeing a red band of magic appearing over his promise ring.

“Yeah, ghost, sunlight… that’s like oil and water. No thank you, sir! Anyways, you said you were a comic book nerd, right? So, you know the drill already. Dim place, dark place, nighttime, then I’m all yours. And while we can only pop each other’s cherries once, we can have all kinds of more fun a much as we want.”

Snails nodded, seeing the back door of his massive ranch house on the horizon. Yet he immediately hopped over behind a large apple tree, picking up a set of scratching noises nearby. Eyes wide open, he froze for a bit.

“Gosh!” Diamond Tiara called out, speeding out of a set of bushes across from Snails’ house. She panted again and again, sweat just flowing across her face, as she stood in the middle of the grass. “I can’t believe the Mayor wasn’t kidding!”

*Rawr!*

The animal sound made Tiara shoot upwards and over to the right, with her mane fluttering every which way. She squeaked as she ran away. Meanwhile, Snails just shrugged from behind his treet.

Lyra, costumed as a wolf, leapt out into the middle of the clearing right behind Tiara. She laughed, brushing her tail with her front right hoof, and she ran back into the bushes. Snails heard her roar yet again.

After a moment had passed, Snails sped over and made it into his house. Picking up some kind of apology type letter from Snips below him, he walked through the hallway. I guess Applebloom broke up with. Serves him right, honestly… He stepped over, feeling astonished that nopony had spotted him yet, and he made his way to the bathroom.

“So, Snails, what’s your plan?” Pirouette asked, the voice seemingly coming out from behind Snails’ back.

Snails shut the door, locking it, and he turned on the nice, hot water to the shower. He slid off the promise ring and placed it on the counter, sighing as he tried to wonder how to begin to break things to their parents.

“Step one: Introduce you to mom and dad. Step three: Live together in boyfriend and girlfriend harmony.”

“Wait, what about step two,” Snails muttered, not even finishing his thought as the desire to enjoy his shower filled up his senses. He shut the curtains and bathed himself in the warm goodness of the water pouring out onto his body. As he rubbed himself over with shampoo, he breathed out and saw a red trail spewing out of his mouth. He closed his eyes and chuckled.

“Oh,” Pirouette muttered, and Snails sensed her presence coming up behind him in the shower, “Well, it’s my fault. I should have planned things out better. I never plan anything right. I just jump from ‘mark’ to ‘mark’, going from city to city these past several months. Ponyville was next.”

“Mark?” Snails asked, brushing his mane profusely as he relaxed in the shower.

“Yeah, I suppose I should let you in on all the ghost lingo,” she remarked, and he slid open his eyes a bit to see her spectral body lying flat top the sink to his far left, “if this is going to get... serious between you and I. Well, ah, I guess for you ‘normies’ we ghosts seem a lot like ‘buggies’—”

“Changelings?”

“Righto,” she said, rubbing her back upon the towel besides her. The filly’s pretty, long mane seemed to almost sparkle. “Those insectoid freaks feed on ‘love’, whereas ghosts feed on... ‘strong emotion’. Well, technically, we feed on ‘energy’ per se, or what we call pk-energy, but since a ghost would be fried into nothingness biting an industrial power cord— trust me, I’ve tried it— we just try and nab ‘emotional energy’ from live ponies more than anything.”

“Let me get this straight,” Snails interjected, thrusting open the shower curtain as he took his hooves out of his mane, “you bit a power co—”

“Ugh, I was young!” Pirouette groaned, putting her face in her front hooves. That didn’t do much, given that they looked as translucent as the rest of her body. “I had only died a few hours before! Or more like, even, a matter of minutes before! Cut me some freaking slack!”

“Died,” Snails whispered, not wanting to have to think about the whole implications of ghostly natures, “Well... gosh.”

“It doesn’t matter. I really can’t remember anything from back then, many months ago, that well anyways,” she went on, floating over to the bathroom’s rug and running in place atop it, “and none of that is important. What is important is that although all ghosts need to feed the same, most ghosts don’t do it the same way. There are four main types of ghosts.”

Snails hopped out of the shower, all clean, and started rubbing himself off with a gigantic blue towel besides him. He looked off at the closed window and made a little breath. “Well, let me guess, you’re a strawberry-flavored type, judging from your tasty red slime.”

“Hardy, har, har,” she shot back, “anyways, the first division is between ‘shakers’ and ‘shades’. The second are what you usually think of when you hear the term ‘ghost’— glowing, pony-shaped globs that haunt objects, places, and— rarely— specific ponies because they cling to feelings from their past life. Like that old mare Sweeney... she spent her life tending to a nice garden at the edge of Hoofington kind of close to the scenic forest and, after her funeral, tried to return right back to it and sing to her tomatoes. I think she’s still there now, all these years later. Anyways, shades can’t move anything real. They can’t pick things up. They usually barely make a sound. They just float about.”

Snails tried to think back to ghost stories around the Colt Scout’s campfire. He closed his eyes again and nodded his head. What a weird world there is outside of Ponyville!

“Pretty sad, when you think about it. I’ve been told that most of them just cling to corners and softly cry. They just linger,” continued Pirouette, “and eventually they’ll fade away. In contrast, you have ghosts like me. I’m the rarity, the kind of ‘action ghost’ known as a ‘shaker’. We can concentrate and manage to do all kinds of stuff. A lot of us throw things to scare ponies. We creak stairs. We open and shut doors. We burst pipes. We leave mysterious prints in snow. That sort of thing. Quite fun.”

“You said ‘four main types’, but that’s just two,” Snails commented.

“That’s the first division, kind of like how ponies are either mares or stallions. The second division, kind of like how ponies are either ‘fliers’, ‘buckers’, or ‘casters’, is between ‘runners’ like me and ‘trappers’.”

“I don’t like the sound of that last one.”

“Those ghosts stay in one place and try to spook whomever comes by. They tend to feel attached to said place a bunch; maybe it was their house, their favorite library, their old classroom, their boyfriend’s apartment, or something like that. Sometimes, they try one of the other three options to get pk-energy. They attempt and make ponies laugh, cry, or scream out in joy. Eh, it’s the odd ghost that goes for chuckles rather than scares, but I’ve met at least one face to face. They’re out there.”

“Where?”

“Ol’ Bill Nose,” she remarked, smirking.

“Bill Nose?”

“Oh, I’ll show you around to my, uh, ghost ‘family’ sometime soon enough!”

“So, wait a second, ‘trappers’ can be either ‘shades’ or ‘shakers’?”

“Yeah, so, of all ghosts, I guess like forty-five percent or so are ‘trapper shades’ and another forty-five percent are ‘trapper shakers’.”

“Something’s missing,” Snails remarked, “hey, hold on, what’s the other ten percent?”

“You’re looking at them, silly!” She flipped around in the air and coasted her girly body into the shower stall, her mane getting solid enough to rub against the shower curtain. “Or, I should say, you’re looking at one of them. A ‘runner’!”

“Runner?” Snails scratched both his cheeks.

“We’re legendary, if I do say so myself,” she went on, “since we break the rules that ghosts otherwise seem to go by. We don’t stay put. We don’t even stay in one city for long. We also have the strongest power— the best ability to really suck the energy out of ponies and turn them into dry husks if we wanted.”

Snails seemed to melt into his spot in the corner of the bathroom for a moment.

“Oh, well, I’m the rarest of the rare— a nice runner,” she triumphantly declared, her hooves waving over her head, “I really don’t know why. Maybe it’s just because I don’t really remember… just not being able to recall not being a ghost ever...”

“Why aren’t more ghosts, ahh, nice?”

“Well, I dare say that most of them actually are!”

Snails just cocked his head, looking amused yet disbelieving.

“Think, Snails! The ghosts that are nice tend to leave ponies alone. Period. Thus, you don’t even notice that they’re there! Also, well, it’s hard to show that you’re nice when most ghosts can’t exactly even talk.”

“And runners are...”

“Well, let me kind of explain it in depth. ‘Runners’ are ghosts that really move from place to place a lot, and thus they tend to really, really have things that just ride on them. They’re got like splinters in their mind, driving them crazy. They’re angier, sadder, and more emotionally-charged. They’re sure stronger too.”

“Interesting!”

“An old woman that just still wants to tend to her garden after death isn’t a runner. She sure wouldn’t become one. A successful musician murdered by his ex-wife for cheating on her all through his gigs that wants to turn the lives of every last past romantic conquest into pure torment, letting out his constant rage upon the living... that’s a ‘runner’.”

“Wow!”

“And, well,” she said, her voice growing a bit faint, “I bring up Starshine Blast there because, well, he scares me. Not just since he tried to stick my head into a tuba... ugh... most other runners just plain scare me.” She turned to face the door, her voice now just a whisper. “Actually, I’m the only runner that my friends have ever met that they’ve even considered liking.”

“Pirouette?” Snails asked, stepping up behind her.

“Gosh,” she murmured, banging her head into the door. She became solid enough to make quite a bumping sound followed by leaving a gooey red stain on the wood. “I just wish that I could remember... but... I just can’t...”

Snails simply reached behind her and kissed her along her cheek, his hot breath shooting out onto her neck. She swooned from all of the intimate attention, making a feminine moan. His hooves ran down to her sides, her sleek, semi-solid body rubbing up against his perfectly. he didn’t say anything affectionate. He didn’t have to.

After several minutes of tender embracing the two of them turned over to the door. I guess we’ll keep things secret for a while, figuring out how to break this to my parents. He motioned over for her to get back into the promise ring, and she nodded, though getting more solid for a moment.

But then the door swung wide open.

“Oh, sorry--” Snails’ dad began, but he froze in place-- leaning against the bathroom door with eyes growing wider-- as Pirouette awkwardly smiled and rubbed against Snails.

“So, uh, you seeing my girlfriend and I kind of post-foreplay in the bathroom, it’s-- uhh-- it’s a Nightmare Night surprise!” Snails suddenly exclaimed.

“Boo!”

The End

Author's Note

Thank you very much for reading you amazing people! *hugs* Please point out any errors, and do please leave lots of comments!