Meeting 'Father'

by Golden Paw

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Other, Romance, Discord
Length: 35173

Dustpan, a hard working "Canterlot Sanitation Specialist" or 'garbage pony' is caught in a world of crazy ponies, secrets and the threat of becoming a chew toy for the beasts of Tartarus. How could an encounter with one young mare

'Dustpan' is a "Canterlot Sanitation Specialist" or as most ponies would call him, a garbage collector. It's a job, it pays the bills and Dustpan can't complain. But when a chance encounter with a propeller hatted mare sweeps him up into a world so far beyond his normal life that he can seldom stay the same shape for five minutes, Dustpan must re-evaluate his priorities.

He will have to learn if love is really worth all the effort, for his new found friend's 'father' is Discord and is none too pleased about a simple refuse collector doting on his 'daughter'.

Follows the same universe as "Ponies of Two worlds" and "Mission of Buzzbot", not vital to have read these stories but would encourage for background.

(Art work done by my very talented friend Aggedane, all thanks and praises to be sent his way.)

Published 2014-03-29 15:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-09 07:54:19 UTC

Prologue

Prologue.

My life has had a few odd turns in it over the years, but this one really takes the biscuit. ‘Dustpan’ floated in the bluish/purple liquid, not sure which way was up or down. It wasn’t a bad feeling of weightlessness (once he overcame the terror of being submerged in what tasted suspiciously like plum jam anyway.)

Dustpan had tried to hold his breath for the first minute or so, but eventually,with his lungs screaming for air, the desperate stallion had sucked in a huge breath of the syrupy mixture. To his utter astonishment he didn’t choke but felt the rich mass fill his lungs with a flavour of crisp grass and scented hills.

Flailing his hooves about himself, Dustpan managed to spin around to survey his new situation. There was a pale glow that seemed to have no discernible source which crazed and danced as wobbling bubbles flowed in every direction. Nor was he alone, the were hundreds of other objects floating within the suspension.

He looked around with his greenish yellow eyes and inspected the detritus also present: Off to one side he saw a grandfather clock drifting serenely, while just ‘above’ his head Dustpan was sure he recognised the huge form of a stone statue. This depicted a lion captured in mid pounce was drifting slowly away from Dustpan, tumbling peacefully into the hazy fog of distance. These were only a tiny fraction of the junk floating all around Dustpan and he couldn’t see an end to the odd vista before him.

A waft of movement caused Dustpan’s off white mane to sweep around and enmeshed his muzzle with its untidy strands, making Dustpan feel like he was tangled in a giant jellyfish which was slowly smothering him. Frantically Dustpan cleared his view with a grey hoof and was greeted by the slowly spinning eyes of ‘Screwball’ regarding him with playful amusement.

See I told you I knew the best places to hang out, father will never think of looking for us here! Dustpan knew he saw Screwball’s mouth moving and heard distorted sounds reverberating through the surrounding liquid. As the sounds didn’t reach his ears with any clarity Dustpan briefly wondered how he had understood Screwball’s words before and then recalled who's home he was in: Anything goes here. Dustpan reminded himself.

Screwball floated before Dustpan and winked with a twitching eyeball before her muzzle broke into a lopsided grin. Dustpan felt another shudder of unease flow through him. “So Dusty we can hang out here for a few years, pop out before we left and then you can meet ‘father’ all over again huh? I think that will be fabulous the second time around and maybe you can get on his good side this time?”

Dustpan’s face went even paler at the thought of meeting Screwball’s ‘father’ for the first time a second time around, “How does that even work, I mean will I meet myself meeting him again? Surely I would remember that?” Dustpan’s already shaky grip on reality was quickly eroding under the strains placed upon it by his current predicament.

Screwball giggled as her propeller hat spun lazily, causing further ripples in the sticky material surrounding the pair, “Oh Dusty you’re so silly sometimes, of course you won’t because that hasn’t happened yet; then when it does everything will break, turn a funny shade of cinnamon, before reality resets itself and you will not know anything else apart from seeing yourself see yourself.”

Dustpan stared at the hat on Screwball’s head; something that would have seemed out of place on a fully grown mare, yet on Screwball it looked perfectly normal. His mind attempted to understand what the other pony had just said but in the end he gave up and just nodded in mute confusion.

“Glad we got that sorted,” Screwball said in an offhoof way, “I would hate to think I was leaving you in the dark.” The strange light all around them dimmed slightly as Screwball spoke and Dustpan felt another stirring in the ‘air’ as something brushed past his back legs.

“What was that!” Dustpan exclaimed, in the strange speech they use here as a fuzzy shape zipped off into the distance before he could get a good look at it. He stared about wildly as further shapes dove and swam around them.

Screwball followed Dustpan’s worried gaze and released another giggle which vibrated the liquid into strange patterns, “Oh they are just father’s 'razor clams'; they must have smelled us and are looking for food.”

Dustpan’s eyes went wide, “Razor clams? They don’t sound friendly.”

Screwball hugged the tangled mess that was her tail and spun slowly in small loops before Dustpan’s worried face, “They are very friendly if you have some treats.”

The rounded shapes circled the pair of floating ponies in an ever decreasing sphere and Dustpan had to fight the urge to let out a squeak of fear as one brushed by his leg, “And er.... what kind of treats do you normally feed them?” The tension in Dustpan’s voice clear and he frantically tried to keep every one of the hundred of darting shapes in his view at once.

Screwball tapped her chin and the propeller on her hat spun faster, a sign that Dustpan was coming to understand to mean she was thinking fast, “Well I can’t remember where father found them, or if he just made them up. Either way I think they are in the habit of slicing things up before eating them, hence the name.”

Dustpan caught a brief glimpse of a particular razor clam as it spun past, seeing they were aptly titled: All spikes and blades sticking out at dangerous angles. They reminded Dustpan of small tangles of writhing brambles; only metallic in nature and Dustpan was forced to duck as another razor clam missed his ear by inches.

“Dare I ask what they do eat,” Dustpan asked as he ducked yet another near hit that sliced a few strands from his mane, which spun away in the wake of the metallic creature.

Screwball floated, unconcerned as razor clams zipped all around her and simply tapped her chin in thought, “You know, I honestly can’t remember. It was something very common there are lots of them about.”

Dustpan dived to one side as another clam swooped right for his head this time and he spun crazily in the back draft as more clams closed in. Screwball completely oblivious to Dustpan’s mounting terror continued to tap her muzzle deep in thought, “I’m sure it began with a ‘P’ and they are very common in Equestria.”

“Please oh please oh please don’t say it’s Ponies!” Dustpan yelled as more razor clams closed in.

Screwball scrunched up her muzzle up in disgust, “Of course not you silly colt, father would never keep anything so dangerous about.” Screwball tilted her head as another thought struck her, “Well I don’t think he would....then again he always said he wanted to liven the place up a bit.”

Dustpan let out a garbled cry as the clams closed in and the light was blocked out by the wall of shimmering bodies. He closed his eyes and prayed to Celestia with all his heart, just as Screwball mused further, “No, I’m sure it wasn’t ponies they ate.....”

Chapter One.

Chapter One.

Three weeks earlier:

Dustpan stirred in his simple bed having awoken from a pleasant dream, blinking owlishly at the simple wooden clock across the way: The little black pointers informed the sleepy stallion that it was twenty four minutes past five and Dustpan winced. It was just too early to get up, but not early enough to get back to sleep either and he groaned at the cruelness of it all.

Dustpan glanced at the window and saw that the sun wasn’t even up either, giving him even less incentive to arise and face the day. Making a decision, he rolled his covers around himself once again, forming a warm cocoon from which he could watch the minute hand of his clock slowly wind its way to five thirty. As sleep no longer an option he settled for staying warm for a little while longer.

The moment finally arrived for Dustpan to free himself from the comfort of his covers and he put forth a questing hoof to test the floor of his small, plainly decorated room at ‘Star Glancer’s’ boarding house. He felt the rough material of the thin carpet and sighed. Yep; cold

Mustering his courage Dustpan took a deep breath before bursting from the safety of his blankets. The cold air caused his hair to stand on end as goose bumps travelled the length of his pale grey body, not wasting any time the pony bolted for his small shower room.

Once inside, Dustpan hastily saw to his morning ablutions, savouring the warm water as it chased the chill from his bones. Now refreshed and warmed up once again Dustpan moved to the small sink and stared at the face in the mirror.

Two round yellow/green eyes looked back at him from the polished glass; regarding the ruffled grey hairs still damp from the shower and the tangled off-white mane with a critical stare. “Well Dusty it seems you have another fine day’s work ahead of you, best look your best right?”

Wasting no more time in idle chatter, Dustpan towelled himself down before once again braving the chilly air of his room. He looked about his domain, plain white walls, a small desk scattered with a few reminders written on scraps of paper and the chest of draws holding his simple belongings.

It wasn’t much Dustpan admitted to himself, but it was the fruits of his own labours: He earned his own way in the world and was proud to do so. The light of a new dawn was just beginning to filter through the curtains when Dustpan finally placed his cap on his head, closed the door behind himself and carefully trotted along the hallway outside.

Most of Glancer’s lodgers kept more social hours than Dustpan, so he made an effort not to disturb them as a favour to his landmare. Star Glancer was a friendly old unicorn and Dusty quite liked her, she reminded him of his own grandmother gone a couple of years ago now.

Dustpan carefully trotted past the final guest's lodgings before he produced his own key to the front door and let himself out into the chilly approaching dawn of a Canterlot morning. The streetlamps were slowly winking out as the first rays of sunshine began to seep over the surrounding rooftops, Dustpan found himself in an inexplicably cheery mood.

Dustpan liked to think of himself as a “Professional Refuse Manager” in his more confident moments, but deep down in his heart he knew what he was: A garbage pony. Oh it wasn’t a bad job all things considered; where there was life there was rubbish, waste had to be dealt with. Dustpan knew that he had great job security in that regard.

Some ponies have glamorous jobs like the royal guard, or working in the theatre and such like, but Dustpan was happy to have a down to earth job. His needs were simple and the job was too, a little smelly of course, but Dustpan didn’t resent his chosen role in life.

Dustpan liked Canterlot during its early hours, before the main hustle and bustle of the day got underway. It had a gentle peace to it that he hadn’t found anywhere else that cheered him each morning. Not that the city at this time was deserted by any means, it was just that most of the night’s revellers had concluded their fun; leaving the city to Dustpan and his like.

Dustpan waved cheerfully at a couple of passing Night Guard (on their way back to the barracks no doubt) who waved back warmly recognising a fellow pony of the small hours. Yep Canterlot is a good place to live Dusty reminded himself as he approached the door to his workplace.

Dustpan smiled up at the blue and white E.S logo adorning the barn sized wooden gates before pushing open a smaller access door which let him into the main yard, “Ah the good old ‘Equestrian Sanitation’, my home away from home.”

“And what’s got you so cheery this morning Dust?” a stern voice greeted the stallion as he emerged from the small entrance and Dustpan’s ears drooped only slightly.

“Well if I have to cart rubbish around all day I may as well make the most of it ‘Tip-bit’,” Dustpan countered. The salvage yard was populated with heaps of assorted junk, bric-a-brac and cast off carriage wheels.

“Rubbish?” Tip-bit retorted, “This, my boy isn’t garbage; it’s ‘bits’ just waiting to be found.” The old brown pony rested in his battered rocking chair and glared at Dustpan as if he had insulted Tip-bit’s sense of honour by daring to question his methods. For his part Dustpan just smiled all the wider, “Cheer up Tip, I hear that ponies who smile live longer and I plan on being around for as long as possible.”

Tip-bit snorted before mumbling something about “Colts these days” and thrust a crumpled piece of paper in Dustpan’s general direction, “’Clean Sweep’s’ off with the ‘Crunds’ so I need you to handle her run.”

For the first time that day Dustpan felt his cheery mood falter, “Sweep’s rounds? But that’s twice the size of mine!”

It was Tip-bit’s turn to grin, “Well I would get on with it quick then, I hear things get mighty busy in that quarter after midday; so if you want to be done before dusk I’d hop to it.”

Dustpan forced his smile back once again, “Oh okay Tip, but I better get some overtime pay for this.”

Tip-bit chuckled in a non-reassuring manner and simply pointed to Clean Sweep’s awaiting refuse cart. Dustpan eyed Tip-bit in irritation before finally folding and began to hitch himself up to the vehicle. Clean Sweep's cart was your average hauler wagon, bearing four sturdy wheels and high sides to carry its cargo safely: Nothing terribly impressive, but bigger than Dustpan’s own.

After a few minutes preparation, Dustpan was ready to head out and with a final salute to Tip-bit (who mealy rolled his eyes in return) pulled the cart into the awaiting streets of Canterlot.

Not only was Sweep's route larger than Dustpan's, it also lacked in social content. With it being incredibly dull, Dustpan soon found himself bored of the endless back allies and side streets his winding way took him.

His own day normally had Dustpan covering the busy plazas and food courts of Canterlot, where he would pick up the usual cast off food wrappers along with the occasional discarded item of interest. He would chat with the locals, catch up on the news around town and be off work a little after midday; normally cheery and rewarding work for him.

Now Dustpan only had his grumbling self to talk to as he hauled the waste from the more 'behind the scenes' sites of Equestria’s capital: Scrap from the blacksmith’s, wood chip from the carvers and other heavy rubbish that was left over from the industrial district. Even the walls seemed to be sombre here, far removed from the bright sunshine that here only just filtered down between the tall buildings all around.

He saw very few other ponies and all of them were too busy to stop and chat; carrying loads of their own or rushing to some appointment no doubt. With a quickly fading mood Dustpan pulled his now laden wagon towards the final leg of the round; the magic quarter.

Dustpan had heard stories about the magic quarter and of some of the very odd things that needed to be picked up from there. Tales abounded of the strange things that could happen to crews who lingered too long there. Clean Sweep had told stories that would curl your mane and so Dustpan sensibly proceeded with caution down the back streets of Canterlot’s more esoteric institutions.

He had only gone a few junctions when the first evidence of such stories being true came into view: A young mare was standing in the middle of the alley and was simply staring at a blank wall with every sign of intense study.

Dustpan pulled up just short of the pale purple pony and watched in some confusion; she was wearing what looked like a foal’s propeller hat, its lazy spinning blades threatening to catch in her wild violet mane. On further inspection Dustpan saw that her tail was in a similar state, but what really caught his attention was her eyes.

The mare’s eyes were a deep violet matching her mane. That was nothing odd, what did seem out of place was the intensity of her stare; which had the determination and directness of a power drill. Dustpan cautiously waved a hoof before her face, but the pony didn’t deviate from her close scrutiny of the smooth white stone in front of her.

Dustpan clapped his hooves together, but the strange pony didn’t move a muscle apart from the continuing steady rise and fall of her chest. Normally he'd be happy to go around, but a quick glance told him that this wasn't an option here.

With nothing else for it Dustpan cleared his throat, “Ehm, excuse me miss, could you please stand aside so I can come through?” The odd pony didn’t respond and continued to watch the bare wall intently.

Dustpan felt a prickle of annoyance blossom upon his already taxed nerves and called again with a little more force this time, “Miss, please move.” Without looking around the mare raised a hoof to her lips and simply shushed in reply.

Dustpan felt his resolve crumble further, “Look miss I don’t mean to be rude but you’re right in the way, move so I can get past, then you can get back to whatever it is you are doing.” [i[Today had started out so well

The uncooperative mare still didn’t budge, but now her lips moved slowly and the little blades of her hat spun more rapidly. Dustpan took a deep breath, shook his head and began the difficult process of reversing his now heavily laden cart back down the narrow street.

The bulky cart, not designed with such a delicate manoeuvre, pivoted awkwardly and backed into the side wall with a crunch: Scraping the paint off the brickwork and gouging a long furrow in the cart's own frame. Dustpan cursed loudly as the impact sent a shock through his spine and a number of refuse sacks tumbled out onto the cobbles below.

Dustpan snorted and rolled his shoulders before unhitching himself from the wagon, grumbling the whole while. Trotting around the cart, Dustpan ducked his head under the chassis and surveyed the damage. To his mounting anger he saw the rear wheel had buckled and let out another frustrated noise.

With nothing else for it Dustpan began the laborious task of refilling the cart with the scattered sacks along with other odds and ends which had tumbled out in the impact. A couple of the bags had split, spilling their dirty contents across the ground. I’ll be lucky if I get back before sundown at this rate.

Dustpan cursed again before raising his head to glare at the stupid pony who had caused this mess only to find she was gone. The alley way was now completely vacant and Dustpan rolled his eyes before shaking his hooves at the heavens and releasing another cry of total frustration.

It was a very grimy Dustpan who dragged his broken cart back to the ‘E.S’ yard just as the sun was sinking behind the skyline of Canterlot. The buckled wheel had locked up, causing Dustpan to practically drag the wagon the whole way from the magic quarter. He was tired, he was sore and his front hooves were covered in some kind of glowing powder that he didn’t care to name. Overall Dustpan was not happy to see the sight which greeted him when he finally stepped through the main gates of his workplace.

Tip-bit was waiting for him, the old pony’s hoof tapping and a stern look on his muzzle, “Well you took your time colt.”

Tip trotted past the exhausted stallion to review the cart and its contents, “And you broke Clean’s wagon!” Tip pointed out the damaged wood work along with the buckled wheel. As if I hadn’t noticed the broken wheel that added three hours to my journey, Dustpan snarled internally.

Tip-bit bristled before shaking his head in dismay, “Well you can forget about any overtime pay Dustpan, now get these sacks to the correct piles then you can set about patching this wagon up you hear me?”

Dustpan had had enough, it had been a long day and this was the final straw. With a furious look in his normally gentle eyes he threw down his cap before storming off towards the yard’s exit.

“Hey where do you think you’re going Dustpan,” Tip-bit called after the retreating pony but Dusty was through with today.

“You won’t have a job to come back to you hear if you don’t turn around right now Dustpan and finish up here,” Tip-bit shouted and Dustpan finally stopped, panting heavily.

“Right, now get your sorry flank back here and sort these sacks,” Tip-bit instructed. Dustpan turned around slowly and to Tip-bit’s indignation made a very rude gesture before slamming the gate behind him as he left.

The streets were crowed now and Dustpan was forced to push his way through the evening traffic, his anger simmering just below the surface the whole time. Who did Tip-bit think he was? Dustpan had worked for the company faithfully for years now and a little respect wasn’t much to ask was it?

As Dustpan continued along his slow path back home his anger began to cool: Yes Tip-bit was an overbearing employer who asked far too much of his staff, but this was the only job Dustpan had really known. He was happy to do jobs most ponies turned their noses up at, now he’d thrown it away in a moment of frustration.

With a sigh Dustpan turned dejectedly into the street he’d called home for the last four years and ran straight into another pony. Their fore heads met with a painful ‘crack’ and Dustpan sat down heavily as stars danced before his eyes. Shaking his head back and forth while clutching his hooves to his sore skull, Dustpan attempted to focus on the other pony he’d bumped into.

“Hey! why don’t you....” Dustpan began to shout when he saw who’d he had hit, it was the strange mare from the alley beforehoof, “You!”

“Is it me? Not sure, I was here a second ago and was looking for....” The odd pony fixed Dustpan with an intense stare, “Oh there you are, the loud mouth from before.”

Whoever this pony was she didn’t seem the least bit phased by cracking heads with Dustpan and to his mounting unease she watched him with that same riveted attention she’d given the brick wall a few of hours ago.

Dustpan flinched as the bizarre creature in the propeller hat leaned in so close that she was mere inches from his face, “I thought you would be taller.”

He didn’t have any response to this comment and so blinked mutely as the piercing scrutiny continued to bore into him. There was something about those eyes that troubled Dustpan deeply but he just couldn’t put his hoof on it.

“Well that settles it then, time for you to come with me,” Before Dustpan could stop her, the mare grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and began dragging the dazed stallion painfully across the cobbles.

“Hey! Wait what are you doing? Let go of me you crazy hoof brain,” Dustpan shouted as he struggled to shift the iron grip of the surprisingly strong pony.

His captor paused for a moment and looked back into the frightened eyes of Dustpan, “Awww you’re so sweet, it’s been ages since any pony had the manners to call me crazy. Father does everything he can to avoid saying so these days, thinks it will give me ideas.”

Dustpan continued to struggle as his flank felt every painful cobble he was dragged over and looked about wildly for assistance. To his mounting horror no pony seemed to give them the slightest bit of attention and Dustpan cried out in desperation, “Help! I’m being ponynapped!”

The ponies all around them continued on as if nothing were amiss, unconsciously side stepping the pair and creating a clear path through the crowd that was quickly filled behind them. Dustpan turned his head once more to stare at the pony dragging him along, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“I’m ‘Screwball’ silly, how could you have forgotten?” Dustpan watched as a look of confusion danced across Screwball’s face, “Or have we met yet? It’s so hard to keep track in this odd place; time flows so predictably.”

Dustpan once again felt he was missing a large part of this conversation, “Sorry run that by me again,” he asked with a slight tremble in his voice.

Screwball smiled happily, “Oh you’re so cute when you’re confused like that, now don’t worry I’m sure I’ll get it right this time.”

“Get what right?” Dustpan asked, his head still spinning.

“Why making up for wrecking your life Dustpan, I really am sorry about that by the way,” she explained.

Dustpan was so confused he momentarily forgot the dual pains in his head and rump, “Wrecked my life?”

Screwball had trotted off the main road and was making steady progress along a quite side street, “Yep completely; something about losing your job, your home and the filly of your dreams all in one night.”

Dustpan at least had a vague idea what Screwball was talking about now and felt a little better about things, “Well it was me who crashed the cart, I should have been more careful.”

Screwball stopped suddenly before fixing Dustpan with another one of her stares, “What cart?”

Dustpan felt his grip on the situation slipping once again, “The refuse cart I collided with a wall when I tried to avoid you in the magic quarter?”

Screwball cocked an eyebrow, “You met me in the magic quarter, what was I doing there?”

“No clue,” Dustpan replied honestly, “You were stood in the middle of the street, staring at a wall and no amount of coaxing would shift you.”

Screwball thought for a moment, “Large plain stone wall, just behind the magic academy and well off the beaten track?” Dustpan nodded, that sounded like the right place. Screwball tapped her chin and the blades of her hat spun a little faster, “Nope never seen it or even heard of it. You should take me there sometime it sounds fun.”

The poor stallion covered his face with his hooves as he attempted to stop his brain from breaking down, “But you just..”

Screwball shushed him once again, “It’s all very simple really, cause and effect don’t necessarily go together where I’m from, or even happen in the right order either. Now shut up and let me help you, it’s the least I can do for you okay?”

Dustpan just sat there shaking his head slowly as Screwball released her grip on him and trotted over to a wall. It looked like any other they had passed, but she began tapping it experimentally with her hoof.

Earlier parts of their conversation began to filter back into Dustpan’s lopsided mind and he couldn’t help but ask, “You like being called crazy then?”

Screwball continued her searching, running her hooves across the simple stonework as if looking for some hidden detail, “Oh undoubtedly by your standards Dusty, got a piece of paper to prove it and everything.” She almost sounded proud of the fact.

“Sorry; my standards?” Dustpan asked taken aback, that wasn’t quite the answer he was expecting.

Screwball took a few steps away from the wall with a perplexed look on her muzzle, “It’s not a matter of what I like being called, I am by pony standards completely ‘doo-laly’ and a good thing too, how boring it must be for ponies and thank goodness I don’t have to worry about that.”

Dustpan screwed his eyes shut once again, “You’re saying you're not a pony Screwball?”

The young mare smiled indulgently back at Dustpan, “Of course not, wherever did you get that idea from?”

Dustpan waved his hooves indicating the city, himself and finally Screwball, “Well I’m a pony in Equestria and you look a lot like one too.”

Screwball smiled warmly, “Ah I see how you got confused, I’m a cherry bush this week, but just happen to be disguised as a pony to fit in.”

Once again Dustpan found his mental grip on the situation dissolving in the face of Screwball’s logic. He didn’t have further chance to ponder on this new revelation as Screwball grabbed him by the scruff of the neck once more and dragged the confused pony away from the wall she’d been examining.

Just as he was about to ask what she was up to now, Screwball broke into a full gallop and headed directly at the wall she had been studying, pulling Dustpan alongside. “Wait what are you d...” was all he managed to ask before the world turned a funny shade of purplish/blue and the wall swallowed them both whole.

What followed was a very complicated moment, where Dustpan didn’t know exactly who, what or when he was. One moment he felt himself to be a small pincushion tumbling down a dark hole, the next he was a bird of prey flying above some oddly shaped mountains made from sparkling glass.

This confusion was all over in a flash and Dustpan suddenly collided with a tiled floor in a vast room easily the size of the Royal Theatre in Canterlot. looking around, Dustpan noticed that the dimensions didn’t seem to quite fit; in some strange way that he couldn’t put a hoof on, the far wall seemed closer than the floor that he was sprawled across.

The impressive room was lit by a number of heavy looking chandeliers, with candles which against all probability seemed to be burning in a variety hues and directions. What disconcerted Dustpan the further was that none of the chandeliers hung down at the same angle and now he knew what to look for that none of the other angles in this place seemed to work either.

The tiles were a mish-mash of black and white, but followed a kind of pattern more akin to crazy paving than standard chess board layout which Dustpan was used to. A curving red carpet seemed to snake its way along the floor almost at random, leading to a number of miss-matched doors lining the walls.

Screwing his eyes tightly shut against the insane layout which caused his stomach to lurch, Dustpan heard an unfamiliar voice calling from what sounded to be very far away, “Ah Screwball my dear, you’re back. I was hoping we could review the upcoming party plans and the treatment records for.....”

The voice was deep and carried an air of self assurance that instantly put Dustpan in mind of a circus ring master he’d seen during one of the Canterlot fairs. It was a showpony’s voice and Dustpan knew with dread that he recognised it.

Forcing open one protesting eye Dustpan saw the towering form of a draconequus standing before him. Discord was wearing two odd slippers, a tropically coloured smoking jack and carrying a steaming mug with the words “Worlds best Dad,” written upon it.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Two.

Dustpan felt his blood run cold as the miss-matched eyes of Discord regarded him with a quizzical expression. Of course Dustpan had heard of Discord, how he’d been reformed by the legendary Element Bearers over ten years ago. That was old news, but to be in his presence was like stepping into a storybook.

With a mounting dread Dustpan realised where he was; this was Discord’s realm, chaos central and.... Dustpan finally took in what the draconequus was wearing. From all the stories he had heard of Discord, none had quite prepared him for a colourful smoking jacket.

Then there were the evening slippers; one shaped like a bright blue bunny rabbit and the other a red and black frog. It didn’t fit the mental image Dustpan had formed of the 'master of disharmony and chaos'.

“Screwball my dear, it seems you have picked up a stray. What have I told you about bringing pets home with you?” Discord continued to watch Dustpan as if he really was some mongrel dog dragged off the streets of Canterlot.

“He’s not a pet father, he’s Dustpan remember I told you about him next week,” Screwball explained.

Discord cocked an eyebrow, “Indeed.”

A strained silence followed and Dustpan fidgeted on the tiled floor, wilting under Discord’s now disapproving scrutiny. Dustpan forced a nervous smile onto his muzzle, removed his cap and held it in trembling hooves, “Sorry sir, I think there has been some sort of mix up. If you could just be so good as to send me home I’ll be out of your mane...er hair, er horns in no time.....”

Dustpan’s ramblings drifted off under the continued 'yellow eyed' focus of Discord. He’d thought Screwball’s stares were bad, but Discord’s eyes were full of madness, without depth and Dustpan could easily believe that he could get lost forever in those red pupils.

After another drawn out silence Discord’s face split into a grin, “Nonsense my good sir, you will of course be joining us for breakfast.”

Discord snapped his fingers and the whole room spun with multi coloured lights. Dustpan felt his stomach lurch, as had the impression of tables and chairs popping into existence before they began chasing each other around the massive hall emitting yelps and barks.

No piece of furniture was like any other: For example an assortment of mixed carved chairs (decorated in gold) which looked like they belonged in Canterlot Castle were drawn up under a picnic table spread with a gingham tablecloth. It was a riot of colour and noise that made Dustpan’s head spin.

“Er.... thank you Mr Discord.....” Dustpan began only for Discord to wave an admonishing talon in front of his eyes.

“Doctor if you please,” Discord said and Dustpan shook his head in confusion.

“Sorry are you ill?” Dustpan asked, bemusement covering his face.

Discord laughed out maniacally, quickly joined by Screwball and Dustpan shrank back from the pair as a flash of lighting came out of nowhere: Both were silhouetted by the bright light while ominous pipe organ music began playing.

The moment passed, Discord coughed and to Dustpan’s complete astonishment the draconequus looked slightly embarrassed.

“Sorry Dustpan, old habits die hard,” Discord explained before turning to Screwball who was still laughing madly, her hooves raised to the sky. “Now, now my dear; time and place,” Discord cautioned.

The sinister music slowed, like a record player running down until it stopped completely and Screwball blushed covering her mouth with both hooves to suppress a giggle. It was only then that Dustpan noticed that her eyes had changed. Where once there had been a pair of pupils that bored right through you, now was a pair of spinning swirls and Dustpan took a few steps back, “Um your eyes?....are you?” Dustpan ventured.

Screwball smiled happily, “Yep, told you I was barking.” She paused for a moment and her little hat spun while the blades stayed firmly in place, “Well that’s more 'S.L’s' thing, she really does bark you know.”

“S.L?” Dustpan asked dreading what he might discover this time.

Discord waved his paw dismissively, “There will be time to meet the staff later Dustpan.” Discord upended his mug and after a long slurp fixed the stallion with a lopsided stare.

“Sorry about that, I thought you were making a joke before. What I meant was that you should refer to me as 'Dr. Discord' or just 'Dr.D',” Discord explained.

“You’re a doctor?” Dustpan asked suspiciously, “What are you a doctor of?”

Screwball chimed in at this point, “Why of psychology of course.” She treated Dustpan to a conspiratorial wink, “I prefer psycho-trickery myself, but father says that’s too dangerous.”

Discord coughed sternly and Screwball shrugged before bouncing into the air and landing on one of the now laid out tables. Dustpan had been so absorbed by the conversation he had failed to notice that the vast room was now arranged as a dining hall.

Screwball rolled off the oddly shaped table and took her place on one of the empty chairs. The hall was now full of such tables and chairs, stretching into the distance and providing enough seating space for hundreds of ponies if Dustpan was any guess.

Discord calmly settled himself down next to Screwball and motioned with his eagle's claw for Dustpan to take a seat also. Dustpan looked around in amazement before asking, “You’re expecting some more company?”

Discord took another leisurely slurp from his mug, “Well, this is a working establishment; we need to cater for the rest of the staff.”

Dustpan’s attempted request for an explanation was headed off suddenly, as ponies began to pop into existence all around them with a variety of coloured flashes. There were hundreds of them; of all shapes, sizes and Dustpan came to realise in completely different manner of dress.

The noise level of the hall rocketed as the assembled crowd began to shout, laugh and in some cases bark or squawk. There wasn’t a pony in the room that wasn’t behaving in totally bizarre manner and Dustpan was forced to cover his ears against the sudden din.

“Marvellous isn’t it!” Discord bellowed at Dustpan who had screwed his eyes tightly shut.

He forced one eye open just in time to see Discord snap his fingers and various trays bearing bowls of food floated about the hall. The sounds of ponies eating messily soon filled the massive space and to Dustpan’s dismay food was soon flying through the air.

“What in Celestia’s name is going on here?” Dustpan yelled over the din. He looked around but was forced to duck as a bowlful of dog biscuits sailed past his head and shattered on the floor.

Discord flicked his hand and a pair of pink fluffy earmuffs flashed into existence in front Dustpan’s desperate eyes. Gratefully he grabbed them and rammed the gift over his throbbing ears. Instantly the volume of the room dropped and to Dustpan’s astonishment so did the manner of conversation.

Where there had been a garbled cacophony, now all Dustpan heard were normal ponies talking in a calm manner. With bemusement he looked about at the scene of utter chaos still unfolding, but mercifully his ears were spared the anarchy. Cautiously Dustpan lifted one of the muffs off an ear and the riot of sounds rushed back in before he hastily replaced it once more.

“This is my 'Home for Interesting Ponies' Dustpan, where ponies with a different outlook on life come to be cared for,” Discord explained before he tipped up his mug once more and drained the last of its steaming contents. Having done this Discord stuffed the mug into his mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully.

“You mean the insane?” Dustpan asked as the truth of the situation suddenly dawned on him.

Screwball nodded as she bit down on what looked to be a chocolate hamster before Swallowing delicately. Dustpan saw her whole demeanour had shifted, she now held herself with poise and grace that would have been the envy of the Canterlot social elite. Screwball picked up a napkin and dabbed at her mouth with every sign of cultured upbringing.

“Yes Dustpan, this is where the ponies who are mentally unstable come to get better,” Screwball confirmed.

“But where are the staff, you can’t run this whole place by yourselves surely?” Dustpan asked.

“Why my dear colt, you’re looking at them!” Discord announced with a dramatic flourish that took in the ponies all around them.

Dustpan blinked in shocked silence for a few moments before raising his hoof to his fore head, rubbing his temples, “You’re telling me that the inmates run the asylum?”

The sudden silence was deafening as every pony on the room turned to Dustpan with a look of utter disgust on their faces. Dustpan shrunk down in his chair as glares of anger and hurt assailed him from every direction.

“That my colt was not a nice thing to assert to,” Discord cautioned. “We don’t use those terms here, these are my patrons, charges and staff. None of them are here against their will and are certainly not prisoners.”

Dustpan nodded slowly; acutely aware that a number of sharp implements were being used by the ponies all around him, “Sorry I misspoke, so these are your staff then?” The tension in the hall vanished instantly and soon the 'mad' banter resumed in full force.

Screwball smiled again before going on, “Yep, we all help each other out here.” She placed the last of her meal in her mouth and as Screwball chewed a look of complete bliss crossed her muzzle.

“Since I gave up the whole ‘Lord of Chaos’ gig I needed to find other ways to use my time you see,” Discord explained. “We do the entertainment for the occasional party now then, but mostly we care for those ponies who are considered a few feed bags short of a trough.”

Dustpan glanced about once again and was astounded to see just how many 'mad' ponies there were; the hall was packed. Screwball offered Dustpan a steaming mug and he was blessed with the rich smell of hot chocolate. Sipping the smooth drink carefully Dustpan was rewarded with a comfy warmth that spread from his core, “I had no idea there were so many who needed help.” He let out a contented sigh before eagerly taking another draft from his mug.

“Oh these are just the best example of those I work with from everywhere or everywhen,” Discord said proudly.

Dustpan eyes widened before he sprayed hot chocolate in a torrent before him and earned a number of cheers from the surrounding tables along with some applause.

Coughing a few times Dustpan winced as he refocused on Discord, “You mean many of these ponies are from different periods in history?”

“And future,” Screwball added helpfully much to Dustpan’s astonishment.

Discord grinned, “Of course Dusty, do you really think Equestria would function if so many ponies were as demented as my dear Screwball here?”

Screwball visibly blushed and looked lovingly at Discord, “Oh father you’re such a flatterer, you’re embarrassing me in front of our guest.”

Discord looked uncomfortable for a moment, “Sorry dear, I let my tongue get away from me.” To reinforce the point, Discord's tongue did just that and flew away to mingle with the other air borne objects.

“Speaking of which, why did you come here Dustpan?” Discord asked, his lack of tongue causing him no trouble with speech it seemed.

Dustpan had been so wrapped up in what was currently happening he had almost forgotten that he’d been ponynapped by Screwball. “I er was brought here by your daughter, who said that she wanted to make up for ruining my life?” Now that he had a chance to say it out loud Dustpan realised just how strange his day was turning out to be.

Discord glanced at Screwball who was delicately nibbling on some dark blue toast before looking back to Dustpan, “I see.” Discord rested his elbows on the table and drummed his 'fingers' together in thought. “Don’t suppose my daughter mentioned how she was going to achieve this?”

“Well I assumed she had a plan to fix.....” Dustpan began only for Discord to shake his head.

“No, no, no, Dustpan; are you always this slow? I mean please tell me how she’s going to ruin your life. I would be quite fascinated to hear what my little ball of mayhem gets up to on her visits to the outside world.”

“I er...” Dustpan trailed off once more in the face of Discord’s stare, his eyes slowly revolving in his head. If he was honest, Screwball hadn’t done anything to mess things up for Dustpan: Well there was the incident in the alley with the cart, but that had been Dustpan’s fault too.

Discord let out a dramatic laugh before thunder once again echoed around the hall, “Ah this is going to be more fun than I could have hoped for; we still have all the good bits to look forward to!”

He rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm and Dustpan felt another shiver of cold dread slither down his spine, “Now that you have had breakfast we can begin the tour!”

With another wave of his claw the tables all began to melt away like ice under a blow torch, covering the floor in a soup colours that slowly drained away leaving a number excited ponies rolling around on the ground, some still trying to swim in the rapidly vanishing liquid.

It took Dustpan a moment to realise that he was now standing in a white overcoat and that his normal cap had been replaced with a mane-net. Looking down he saw that his hooves were also neatly tucked into blue plastic coverings.

“Can’t be too careful you know, sanitation is vitally important here,” Discord explained. Dustpan looked up to see that his two companions were dressed the same way. Although Screwball still wore her propeller hat over her new mane-net, her manner had switched once again.

Screwball wore a pair of stylish glasses, her mane was tied back in a professional manner and she held a clip board in her hooves, “Phease shate your name for sher records.” Screwball mumbled around the pen now held between her teeth.

Dustpan paused for only a moment before shrugging, “My name is Dustpan.”

Screwball nodded and scribbled something on the clip board, “And what ish your profession?”

Dustpan opened his mouth to say garbage pony before he remembered he may not have a job to return to. If he ever returned..... “I’m probably between jobs right now,” He finished uncertainly.

Screwball nodded once again and made further scribbles on the board. “Purpose of vishit,” She asked, her words still distorted by the Byro in her mouth.

Dustpan gave up, “No clue, why am I here?”

Screwball gave Dustpan a dirty look before turning her nose up at him, “Shere is no need to be like shat sir, I’m jusht doing my job.” She scribbled down more notes on the clip board before spitting out the pen and handing a sheet of paper to Dustpan.

“Please stamp this disclaimer for your time here,” Screwball coldly instructed Dustpan as Discord watched on, clearly eager to get this over with as he looped around and around in mid air while sparing Dustpan bored looks.

Dustpan glanced at the form before him and quickly came to realise it to be complete and utter 'nonsense gibberish', “Should the client develop a desire to wear three trifles weekly and twice on Tuesdays...?”

“That’s a standard clause Mr Pan and a popular one if I do say so myself,” Discord commented. “In broad terms it says that you will not hold us responsible for any psychosis or insanity contracted during your visit; that you come here freely and of your own will.”

“But I didn’t choose to come here,” Dustpan shouted, “I was dragged here by your daughter" he pointed at Screwball: "She ponynapped me!”

Discord paused mid loop before glancing suspiciously at Screwball, “Is this true my dear?”

Dustpan saw Screwball’s ears droop and a contrite look of guilt pass across her muzzle, “I may have done a little ponynapping dad.” The little propeller on her hat slowed almost to a stop and tiny tears formed in her slowly swirling eyes.

Discord looked stern, “Now Screwball, you know it’s not right to steal ponies off the street like that.” Discord folded his arms as he admonished Screwball, “We have rules here and there are reasons for them.”

Discord gave Dustpan an apologetic glance, “Terribly sorry about this Dustpan, had I know what my daughter was up to I would have stepped in sooner.”

Dustpan felt a flood of vindication rush through him. Finally he was getting somewhere here.

“What do you say Screwball,” Discord asked as he motioned to Dustpan.

Screwball turned her tear lined cheeks towards Dustpan once more, “I’m sorry Dusty and I’ll do it right this time.”

“That’s okay I...wait, what!” Dustpan began before his world went dark as something coarse and smelling of oats covered his head.

Dustpan thrashed about as the muffled sounds of Screwballs voice filtered through to him proudly, “See father: I used the sack over the head this time, do you want me to bind his hooves too?”

“That won’t be necessary dear,” Dustpan could almost hear the grin on the draconequus’ face, “It’s the thought that counts and I’m sure he won’t hold it against you.” Discord assured Screwball as Dustpan felt himself lifted off his hooves by unseen hands.

“Right, now on with the tour,” Discord announced happily and Dustpan felt himself being carried along.

“And here is the main ballroom; the decor here is late Nightmare period you will see. There are particularly fine examples of the ‘constellations’ style with Nightmare moon dominating the centre stage of the work....” Discord rambled on and on and Dustpan simply listened through his encompassing sack as he sat on the cold floor.

The poor stallion had been wearing it since the start of the tour and had long since given up trying to remove it. He’d been carried around for what felt like hours already in confused darkness and it didn’t seem like his situation was going to change any time soon.

If what he’d been led to believe was true then they had already passed through hundreds of rooms, ranging from kitchens to the ‘shark’ habitats to beyond the pogo arena. All the while Discord had some obscure fact or strange tail about each chamber, some of which even managed to interest Dustpan despite the fact he was currently breathing hessian.

All of the sights however were hidden by the obscuring sack, leaving only the odd smells and strange sounds to reach Dustpan’s senses. Every so often he’d try to ask a question, only to be ‘shushed’ by the ever present Screwball.

At one point something wriggly and rubbery attached itself to Dustpan’s leg, but after some stern shouting from Discord along with a couple of unnerving roars the stallion was released with only an unpleasant slime left to mark the encounter.

Finally Dustpan realised that Discord had finished his current explanation and that the world outside his small sack had gone quiet. He waited perfectly still, was this some new trick?

Cautiously Dustpan put forth a questing hoof to blindly explore his surroundings. He experimentally tapped the floor gently before calling out quietly, “Um hello?” No reply.

Turning his smothered head this way and that Dustpan tried to listen for any sounds at all. He could only hear the sounds of his own heart and confined breathing. The sack was really starting to itch and Dustpan attempted to remove it once more.

To his surprise the coarse cloth came away freely this time and Dustpan found himself back in the massive hall once again. Looking around he saw that the candles had burnt low and that the room was almost totally empty now.

The only other occupants were Discord and Screwball; the first was leaning over the second and Dustpan saw that Screwball was curled up on the floor sound asleep. Even as he watched Discord turned his face to Dustpan and he saw a look of doting joy there.

“My poor little disaster area; she’s worn herself out again. Well it has been a long day for her,” Discord said quietly. With incredible care Discord lifted the sleeping mare and with gentle steps walked her over to a bed that had (as usual here) appeared out of nowhere. The bed was shaped like a pair of sea ponies bursting from the water.

Discord tucked the peacefully sleeping Screwball in, pulling the covers up before leaning over and planting a brief kiss on her forehead. The whole scene was so at odds with Discord’s normally boisterous and theatrical manner that Dustpan could only sit there in mute witness.

With snap of Discord’s 'fingers' the bed along with its occupant slowly sunk into the floor with a ‘slurping’ sound before Discord regarded Dustpan once more. “Now my colt, we can talk properly.”

Discord waved his paw as one more the room began to spin. Dustpan felt the now familiar sense of dislocation as he revolved with it; spinning around and around before the hall finally settled into a vague approximation of an office.

Looking around Dustpan saw that desks of all shapes and sizes were drawn up in disjointed rows, where many of the breakfast ponies he had seen before were now busy writing in ledgers. The sounds of quills scratching across paper filled the air as Discord beckoned for Dustpan to follow him.

The first thing that struck Dustpan was just how quiet it was, all these ponies who before had been shouting at the top of their lungs were now all studiously working in their books. It was a far cry from the previous bedlam of earlier.

“We have set times for things you see Dustpan, all part of the rehabilitation program,” Discord explained as he led Dustpan along a meandering route between the desks. “You arrived during a 'free period', where those being treated can be themselves for a bit.”

Discord stopped by a blue earth mare with white mane and tail, “This is ‘S.L’ or ‘Screw Loose’ for example," Discord introduced and Dustpan smiled at the new pony. “She’s the one you heard barking earlier.”

Screw Loose smiled back at Dustpan, “Pleasure to meet you and welcome to the family,” She held out a hoof for Dustpan who shook it gingerly.

Discord smiled, “Sorry Screw, Dustpan is just visiting for the moment.”

Screw Loose smile dimmed somewhat, “Aww sorry to hear that, well enjoy your stay as much as it is then.”

Discord led Dustpan further as Screw Loose resumed her work, “All the ponies here are at different stages in their treatment, some stay for only a few weeks, or even just pop in for day visits.”

Discord reached the main desk, which was set facing the rest in the room, upon it was a bizarre assortment of little devices and paperwork all written in different colours and styles. Discord stepped through the desk, which offered no barrier to him before indicating the large ornate throne behind.

“Relic of the old days, many a happy century I teased Celestia and Luna from this old thing,” Discord tapped the throne which seemed to hum with power, “But far better days now.” Discord said happily as he pointed out a crooked picture on the wall.

The golden and decorated frame held a picture of Discord playfully giving a yellow pegasus a friendly ‘noogie’. Dustpan knew that pony, not personally but by reputation of course, “Is that Fluttershy?” Dustpan’s voice held a no small trace of wonder, “As in ‘the’ Fluttershy, one of the former Element Bearers?”

Discord beamed proudly, “Yes she is, happily married to some farm pony now and with foals of her own,” Discord bore a whimsical expression for a moment, “I owe her a lot you know; without her I’d be a stone statue with no friends; now look at me!” Discord spread both his arms wide to take in the scene before him.

Dustpan was almost hesitant to ask, “You don’t miss the whole 'Master of Chaos' thing then?”

Discord’s face became wooden, even sprouting a few shoots, “Well I do admit I had some laughs, but true happiness comes from friends and family my dear colt.” He coughed and returned to his usual self, “But we’re here to talk about you Dustpan.”

Discord indicated another picture hanging the other side of his throne; this one showed a small purple filly in with a spinning propeller hat beaming with joy, her muzzle covered in chocolate cake, “It seemed my ‘daughter’ has taken a shine to you Dustpan, only to be expected as she’s growing up.” Discord sighed and a look of almost fear crossed his odd features.

Dustpan’s eyes went wide as he understood what Discord was getting at, “I....what? Your daughter grabbed me off the street and placed a sack over my head, that doesn’t sound like ‘taking a shine to me’.”

Discord chuckled, “You don’t know her like I do Dustpan.” Discord produced a very thick file from a draw in his desk and pushed it over to Dustpan. “Screwball is my greatest failure and my proudest moment all in one you see,” Discord explained in a distant tone.

Dustpan hesitantly opened the file to see just three words in bold type on the front page. Screwball, Discord’s Daughter. Not certain he should press on but encouraged by Discord, Dustpan turned the pages to see that they were all....blank, “I...er?”

Discord nodded, “Exactly: There is nothing written at all, Screwball has been here pretty much since the beginning Dustpan and I am still no closer to understanding her than the day I started.” Discord steepled his fingers, “You’re the first ‘normal’ pony she has ever taken an interest in Dustpan and you must understand that I worry for my little Screwball. She's not used to the outside world besides it being an interesting place to visit, but with her sudden interest in you that could quickly change....”

Dustpan stared at the file for a moment longer before looking up to the draconequus, “Is she really your daughter?”

Discord watched Dustpan for a long moment, “Do you want the long or the very long version?”

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Dustpan threaded his way through the crowded streets of Canterlot; following the trial of bemused citizens. Screwball had left a path of confused and irritated ponies in her wake, which made it a simple matter for Dustpan to find her.

What are you going to say to her? Dustpan was at a loss, sorry just didn’t seem enough and the lingering threat from Discord still danced at the back of his mind.

He rounded another corner, having taken directions from an enraged sales pony and Dustpan finally caught site of Screwball. The filly was hunched over; head bowed and sobbing tears into a growing pool on the ground before her. Screwball’s back leg had a wicker basket caught around it and what seemed to be cord with a number of colourful flags tangled about her fore hooves.

The darkened alleyway resounded with her crying, the disused crates and old linen littering the place showing an appropriate mirror for Screwball’s distress.

Dustpan stepped cautiously forward as Screwball continued to bawl miserably before stopping a few paces away, “Um Screwball....” Dustpan whispered, but the pony was far too upset to notice him. He tried again, “Screwball I’m sorry, I was just angry and......”

Screwball let loose howl of anguish and sobbed all the harder, showing no sign she’d even noticed Dustpan. He felt his ears droop as he frantically tried to think of a way to cheer the distraught filly.

Dustpan cast nervous glances back up the alleyway, fearful what any pony might think had they stumbled upon this scene. Reassured they were alone Dustpan scrunched up his muzzle as he racked his brain for an answer. With nothing else for it he called out louder this time, “Screwball it’s Dustpan, I came to say I’m sorry.”

There was a brief pause in the wails before Screwball turned her tear streaked face towards him. Fighting the sniffles that struggled to get out, Screwball finally spoke, “Oh it’s you, come to shout at me again huh?”

Dustpan winced before forcing a brittle smile onto his face, “No Screwy I haven’t, I came to say I’m sorry.”

Screwball snorted and fresh tears began running down her cheeks, “You’re not sorry, you never liked me.”

The stallion shuffled uncomfortably, “No honestly Screwball, I’m am sorry. Yes I was upset and all but I didn’t mean it.”

Screwball pouted before glaring back at him and Dustpan saw her eyes were actually kind of pretty, despite the puffiness around them from the tears. She swallowed another sob that threatened to break out before speaking once more, “Why should I believe you? I came to spend a fun day with you and all you did was shout at me and tell me to go away.”

Dustpan blushed, “Well you were acting all crazy like, it’s hard to know what to say and do around you.”

The sobs lessened and a little more the normal 'spark' returned to Screwball’s eyes, “You still think I’m crazy?”

Dustpan chuckled, “Oh I know you are Screwball, that’s why this is so hard.”

Screwball’s lips trembled as a suspicious expression came across her face, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better," she wined.

Dustpan smiled for the first time since he’d left the boarding house, “No Screwy you’re totally mental and a real hoof full: Since you came into my life I have barely had chance to sit down and I can honestly say I have never met a pony like you.”

Screwball stared at Dustpan, her mouth twitching as it warred between a frown and a smile, “You don’t want me to go?” Faint hints of hope breaking through in her tone made Dustpan’s heart soar.

Dustpan smiled wider, “No Screwy I don’t want you to go.” He paused for a moment, I really meant that Dustpan told himself and was surprised by the revelation; but not half as surprised as when Screwball dove forward and tackled him to the ground with fresh tears staining her face.

“Oh Dusty, you’re the best!” Screwball shouted, “We’re gonna have so much fun breaking things and causing chaos.” Dustpan slowly felt he air being squeezed from his lungs as Screwball hugged him all the tighter.

“Now hang on a moment Screwy...” Dustpan managed to force out of his crushed windpipe. The lilac filly slackened her grip and the haunted look returned to Screwball’s face.

Dustpan spoke quickly before she could get all worked up again, “You wanted me to show you normal pony life, normal ponies don’t go around doing those things.”

Screwball looked sceptical but Dustpan pressed on, “First of all; we need to apologize to a few folk,” he indicated the tangled flags and broken basket still adorning Screwball. Dustpan smiled again even as Screwball’s ears drooped in disappointment, “Then we can have some fun.” Dustpan's grin mirrored Screwballs before she crushed him in a huge hug.

As the breath was once again crushed out of Dustpan as Screwball giggled excitedly, “Okay Dusty, where do we start?”

“We’re really sorry Mr; Screwball really didn’t mean to damage your stall,” Dustpan explained to the grim looking earth stallion who eyed the pair with a frown.

The store keeper snorted, “That’s well as might be, but who’s gonna pay for all this?” He waved a hoof at the devastation his mobile shop had become; there were broken baskets and containers all over the place.

Dustpan’s smile fell, “Ah...well I’m sure we could come to some arrangement.”

The brown stallion cocked a doubtful eyebrow at the pair, “It’s going to cost a fair number of bits to sort this one out sonny.”

Dustpan felt his heart sink, knowing full well that his own reserves of cash were at an all time low, “Maybe we could work it off?” The store pony grunted as Screwball peered about the broken wares, occasionally prodding them with a curious hoof.

At the mention of work her ears pricked up and she glared at Dustpan. “You never said anything about having to work, you just we should say we’re sorry. That doesn’t sound like fun.”

Dustpan grimaced before running a hoof down his muzzle and smiling awkwardly at the store keeper, “Can you just give us a minute?” Without waiting for a response he grabbed Screwball and tugged her to one side.

After they were a short distance from the stall Dustpan struggled to explain the basics of commerce to Screwball, “Okay, when we make choices in the real world there are consequences right?”

Screwball nodded in a vague way as her attention fixated on a small line of ants below, and Dustpan rolled his eyes, “You broke his wares; that pony put a lot hard work into making those baskets and we should do what we can to replace them.”

Screwball continued to watch the marching insects as they made their steady journey across the cobbles. She finally replied in a curious voice he eyes never leaving the bugs below, “Can’t you just snap your fingers and put them back together again? Or just go back to before they were broken?”

Dustpan rubbed his temples in frustration, “No Screwball it doesn’t work like that. We either have to make him some new ones or pay for what you broke: Usually in our time or ‘bits’.”

Screwball turned her head, understanding blossoming in her intense eyes, “Oh.....So he wants money then why didn’t you say so?” Screwball reached round and produced a large sack which clinked heavily and Dustpan’s eyes went wide with shock.

She opened the bag and the gleam of golden bits filled Dustpan’s world, there must have been hundreds, “Will this be enough?” Screwball asked in casual manner.

Dustpan coughed and blinked a few times before he found his voice which came out in a squeak, “Er yes.... that would probably buy his whole shop along with most of the street....”

Screwball nodded happily and was about to return to the stall when Dustpan stopped her, “Wait, wait, wait; do you know how much to give him?”

She shook her head and Dustpan took a deep calming breath, “Right you stay here and watch the ants while I go and discuss it with the shop keeper okay?” He motioned with his hooves for Screwball to remain where she was.

Dustpan didn’t quite recall the following conversation with the store owner, his thoughts taken up by the large bag of coins in Screwball’s possession. In a daze he returned to the filly with a bill for the goods, counted out the coins (noting there didn’t seem to be even a dent in the quantity still remaining in the heavy bag) and paid the irate shop owner his dues.

Their lesson completed Dustpan took Screwball off to one side once more, “Where in the wide, wide world of Equestria did you get that?” Dustpan indicated the large bag of bits that Screwball produced once more out of thin air.

She shrugged, “Well Daddy dose lots of performances for foals parties and so forth. We are in big demand for entertainment you see.” Screwball hefted the heavy bag as if it weighed nothing, “They always insist in giving us payment for our trouble, but what are we going to use small lumps of gold for?”

Dustpan shook his head slowly, “Food, clothing and shelter? He suggested.

Screwball gave Dustpan a disbelieving look, “That’s silly, why pay for things when you can just snap your fingers and they are there?”

Dustpan coughed before covering his face with his hooves, “That’s not quite how it works in the real world Screwball,” He explained, his eyes still hidden behind his hooves.

Screwball sounded genuinely interested, “Really? So you need to give bits to one another for food?” Dustpan removed his hooves and nodded at Screwball whose face had taken on another thoughtful expression, “So what happens when you run out of bits?”

“You get a job and work to earn some more,” Dustpan said in a resigned voice.

Screwball’s muzzle scrunched up and Dustpan could almost see the thoughts moving around her head, “So you work to get money and use that money to get the things you need?”

Dustpan smiled as Screwball finally seemed to be getting it, but to his confusion her face fell. She looked back to Dustpan with a pained expression, “I made you lose your work didn’t I?” Screwball looked to the bag, then to the stall and then finally to Dustpan, “So you’re not going to get any more bits?”

Dustpan forced a laugh, “Well I can always get another job.”

Screwball shook her head, “But you liked your old job, plus it suits you!” Dustpan guessed that was meant as a compliment, but she wasn’t finished, “So you won’t get food and a place to stay and so on?”

Screwball’s face formed an expression of resigned determination before she handed the bag of money to Dustpan, “Here, you need these bits more than I do!”

Dustpan stared at the offered bag in utter amazement, if he was any judge it contained enough wealth to set him up in a small castle for a year, “No, no Screwball, I couldn’t. Just help me get my old job back and that will do.” You really are bonkers Dustpan, take the money!

Dustpan watched the determined face of Screwball and his heart wavered, there really were a lot of bits there. Screwball really doesn’t have any real understanding about our world does she? He couldn’t in good conscience take the money. (Not to mention what Discord would do to him if the creature found out he’d taken advantage of Screwball that way)

Dustpan made up his mind, “No Screwball: Thank you, but no.”

Screwball peered at Dustpan curiously before tucking the bag away to where ever it had come from, “Okay....” Her face brightened again, “So that’s the last pony we need to apologise to right, time for fun now?”

Dustpan smiled wider as Screwball bounced up and down with excitement, “Yep it’s time to do something fun and I know just the place.”

“So the ball needs to roll up the ‘alley’ and knock over the pins at the end?” Screwball squinted at the collection of trophies and awards arranged inside the cabinet before them.

Dustpan beamed as he took in the sights and sounds of his favourite hobby; the music playing in the background, the thuds of the bowling ball hitting the lane and drawn out rumble as it headed to the target: All the nerves and excitement as ball connected with the pins and sent them sprawling with ‘bat-doyne’ noise. He closed his eyes and soaked in the atmosphere, revelling in it all.

“But what did the pins do to deserve being hit by a ball?” Screwball asked and the moment faltered.

Dustpan scrunched up his nose in puzzlement as he looked to the filly beside him. “Screwball they’re carved bits of wood; it’s their job to be hit by the ball. They haven’t done anything, they don’t think for themselves.”

The doubtful expression on Screwball’s face lingered as Dustpan thanked the pony at the main desk. The then pair trotted between the busy patrons and found their assigned game. Dustpan breathed in deeply: savouring the smells polished wood and slightly stale hayfries.

He grinned at Screwball who still didn’t look convinced before showing her the collection of balls upon the racks, “We need to figure out what weight of ball is best for you Screwy.” Dustpan looked her up and down and judged her build, “Hmm I think one of the mediums one’s for you...”

Searching along the row of waiting spheres, Dustpan finally settled on a mid range orange ball and passed it to Screwball who held it in her hoof expectantly, “Give it a heft, see how it feels.”

Screwball did as instructed; taking the ball in both hooves she squatted before pushing the missile up into the air with all her might. Dustpan leaned back as he watched the ball sail upwards; hang briefly at its apex before it began to tumble back down again with a dreadful unstoppability.

“I er....” was all that escaped his lips before he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable crunch.

“I like this one it’s a friendly ball,” Screwball commented and Dustpan threw open his eyes in astonishment. Screwball was spinning the bowling ball on one hoof and even as he watched she rolled it down her fore leg, behind her neck and up along the other fore leg.

Dustpan just stammered, “I....how...when...?”

Screwball smiled knowingly, “I told you sill colt, daddy and I do foals party entertainment all the time. I wouldn’t be much of an assistant if I couldn’t juggle and know my way around 'balls'.”

Dustpan watched mesmerised as the ball rolled back and forth, jumping from one hoof to another in a delicate dance, Screwball in total control the whole time. With amazing skill she deposited the bowling ball back with the others and even drew a few cheers from the small crowd that had gathered.

Screwball bowed theatrically before winking at Dustpan, “So you were going to show me how to play bowling?”

It took a few moments for Dustpan to register Screwball had asked him a question, “What...I...er..yes...”

Shaking himself down and trying to block out the now thoroughly riveted stares of the ponies about him, Dustpan collected his own bowling ball and sighted down the alley. Drawing back he then released it in a smooth motion and watched the black orb roll its definite way before connecting with the pins.

As the clattering subsided Dustpan saw two white targets still standing and snorted in frustration, “You get one point for every pin, but if you...” As he turned to address Screwball he found to his annoyance she was whispering to the orange ball from before.

Suddenly straightening and looking guilty, Screwball pointed at the channels running along the lane with a curious expression, “What’s this bit for?”

“That would be the gutter Screwball, if you throw the ball wrong it ends up there and you get no points,” Dustpan said with a little smile.

Winking at Screwball Dustpan picked up another ball and repeated the same process once again; his ball rolled down the lane and with final ‘Ka-pung’ the last two pins tumbled down. Dustpan performed a reverse punch with his hoof, “Oh yeah now that’s a ‘spare’!”

Screwball folded her fore legs and cocked her head, “Why is it called a spare? I don’t see any spare pins.” Dustpan opened and closed his mouth a few times. Why ‘is’ it called a spare?

The assembled crowd looked at one another in bemusement; it seemed no pony there knew the answer to that question either and Screwball examined the onlookers with a disappointed frown, “So what you’re saying is that none of you fully understand the game you’re playing?”

The murmur of the crowd turned uncertain as they all took Screwball’s point. Dustpan felt the situation slipping from him and fought to regain some control, “Well that aside it’s your turn now Screwball.”

Screwball nodded and collected her chosen bowling ball before making way to the lane’s end. She peered down the length of polished wood and then glanced at the ball in her hoof before pressing her ear to it.

Dustpan glanced to the other ponies; who were just as bemused as him: Screwball seemed to be listening to the bowling bowl. She periodically nodded and whispered to the object before awaiting a reply.

Seeing their attention on her, Screwball straightened up and did her best to look innocent, “Right so I roll this down the lane and knock over the pins?”

Dustpan wouldn’t be swayed, “What were you doing?”

Screwball looked a little uncomfortable, “I was just asking ‘Giles’ his opinion on ball and pin relations. It’s really fascinating you know.”

Dustpan blinked as he took this in, “Who’s Giles?”

Screwball knocked on the orange bowling ball, “He is called Giles.”

Confused whispers began to fill the air around them and Dustpan felt his cheeks redden. The stares from small crowd that now surrounded the pair caused him to grin uneasily, “She’s only joking; every pony knows bowling balls don’t talk.”

Screwball tilted her head and scrunched up her mouth, “He agrees to play, but does believe it’s very unfair that the pins just stand there while he has to do all the work.”

Before Dustpan could delve further, Screwball lifted the ball high into the air and spun on a single back hoof in the manner of an over enthusiastic discus thrower. The crowd ducked in fear as the weighted ball swept past and Screwball continued to spin faster and faster.

Cries of alarm went up as she became a blur before the bowling ball sailed out of her grasp. Every pony present took cover, but it seemed there was no need: The ball curved around at an impossible angle, struck the lane and wobbled crazily along the boards.

Dustpan watched in utter astonishment as the bowling ball weaved back and forth up the lane, hanging on the rim of the gutter at several points. The recovering crowd watched as ‘Giles’ flipped into the left gutter, only to roll back up the other side, rebound off the barrier and thud back down onto the lane.

Total silence seemed to engulf the bowling alley as every pony present watched the unfolding spectacle. Giles continued to weave and at one point almost curled back up the lane once more. All this took no more than a few moments before Giles finally connected gently with the leading pin at the end of the run and to Dustpan’s amazement....they all just lay down......

What followed was a moment of total shocked silence where it felt like the whole room had frozen. Dustpan felt his jaw hanging open as he watched Screwball began to slow and finish upside down balancing perfectly on one front leg.

The background music came back into focus before the ponies all around burst into enthusiastic applause, “So what’s it called when all the pins fall down with the first ball?” Screwball asked sweetly.

Just when Dustpan thought he had a vague idea on Screwball she went and did something like this, “It’s called a ‘strike’ Screwy and no I don’t know where that comes from either.” Dustpan’s voice had a distant quality as he stared at the now resetting pins.

How in Celestia’s name had she done that? Screwball wasn’t a unicorn so direct magic was out of the question. There were so many unanswered questions about this filly that had swept into Dustpan’s life like a storm front.

He watched as Screwball righted herself and performed a quick bow for the onlooking ponies who all talked excitedly with one another; a few even came forward to shake her hoof in congratulations.

Screwball was oddly ‘likeable’ in an off tilt kind of way and Dustpan found himself warming to her strange manner; even when he always seemed to come off worse as a result of them. He continued to observe Screwball as she interacted with the other ponies and found a smile spreading across his muzzle.

There was an innocent wonder about Screwball which seemed to call to Dustpan’s inner foal, reminding him of carefree days of his not too distant youth. It drew him back to the time when his biggest worries were homework and not having enough sweets; rather than work and other ‘adult’ problems.

Screwball glanced to Dustpan and caught him watching her; she paused for a moment with another quizzical look in her eye before giving him a little wave. Dustpan waved back absentmindedly before he realised what he was doing and felt his cheeks burn as unbidden feelings stirred in his heart. Screwball really was very pretty and Dustpan found himself wondering why he hadn’t noticed this before.

“So what are you going to add to that performance colt? Decided to take to the stage instead of shifting garbage huh?” Dustpan turned slowly as he recognised the condescending manner he had come to dread.

Tip-bit was sat comfortably in the seating alcove of the lane next to theirs and was regarding Dustpan as if he was the collected runoff from one of the old pony’s spoil heaps back at the refuse yard.

Dustpan coughed, “Oh hi Tip-bit..I er didn’t know you liked bowling.”

Tip-bit looked pleased with himself, “Well I don’t normally, but a little bird told me I would find you here Dustpan and I wanted to talk with you on a work related matter.”

Dustpan took on a weary expression; it never boded well when his employer smiled like that. Forcing himself to smile in reply Dustpan braced for impact as he asked the question that was now expected, “What is it you want Tip-bit?”

The old pony’s expression became predatory, “Oh Dustpan always to the point, well it’s mostly about your contract.” Tip-bit produced a scroll which he passed over to Dustpan, grinning like a crocodile.

He took the paper and unrolled it, feeling a horrible certainty that his life was about to become even more difficult. Tip-bit had ‘helpfully’ underlined a small section of text:

Should the employee fail to live up to the terms in this contract he will then be liable to pay compensation to said employer to the amount of two months wages...... Dustpan felt his heart plummet, “You’re not serious Tip?”

The grin on Tip-bit’s muzzle threatened to remove the top of his head, “Well I just want to make sure business between us concluded ‘correctly’.”

Dustpan should have known it would come down to a price tag, “How much Tip?”

“Who’s this Dusty?” Screwball put a hoof around Dustpan’s shoulder and smiled at Tip-bit in a friendly fashion.

Dustpan felt a small thrill go through him at her touch and suddenly found it very hard to speak or think, “This is Tip-bit, my ex-boss from the reclamation yard.” He indicated the old stallion and Screwball nodded eagerly before Dustpan finished the introductions. “Tip-bit this is my friend Screwball.”

Her smile slowly faded and Screwball’s eyes took on an intense focus, “You mean this is the pony who fired you from your job?” Dustpan leant back as her expression turned dangerous, the little propeller on her hat stopped ominously and Dustpan had the sudden desire to be anywhere else but here....

Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.

“Now, now Screwball, put down the broom and step away from Tip-bit,” Dustpan motioned with his fore hooves in calming manner as Tip-bit gagged in fear. The stallion was turning pale as the tool pressed down on his throat and Dustpan could have sworn he saw Tip’s eyes bulging.

“But he’s a mean pony Dusty, he fired you and I don’t like the look of him,” Screwball lent on the broom and Tip-bit wheezed desperately. The trapped stallion pulled at the broom head vainly, but Screwball’s grip was like iron. “Plus he smells of pickles,” Screwball announced darkly.

Dustpan grinned with mounting anxiety as the ponies all around him stared in shocked silence. In the few moments after Screwball had discovered who Tip-bit was, she had become a blur of motion. No pony had any idea where the broom had come from, one second the humble house hold utensil was absent and the next it was pinning Tip-bit to the floor of the bowling alley.

The small crowd looked from Screwball to Dustpan and back to the struggling pony on the ground. Tip’s eyes were rolling madly and Dustpan didn’t want to find out just how far Screwball would take this latest madness.

“Screwy: Please let the pony up, he’s turning blue,” Dustpan tried cautiously and instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say.

Screwball now studied Tip with a fascinated look that Dustpan knew seldom boded well, “Is he? I would say it’s more of a ‘purplish grey’.” Tip-bit's eyes were rolling back in his head and Dustpan gritted his teeth as the ponies all around began to mutter.

“Screwy we will be in big trouble if you don’t stop this now. We can talk about interesting colours when you have stopped choking him,” Dustpan whispered through gritted teeth as he placed his hooves on Screwball’s shoulders and attempted to pull her away from the expiring Tip-bit.

“But...” She replied before Dustpan looked Screwball straight in the eye and shook his head in a meaningful manner.

With a resigned sigh Screwball finally removed the broom from Tip-bit who released a relived gasp which was mirrored by the gathered crowd. She spun the broom around her hoof before it vanished to wherever it came from and Screwball pouted at Dustpan.

“But Dusty, he really is a mean pony. Daddy says that mean ponies need to be taught a lesson, so they won’t be mean any more,” Screwball regarded Dustpan with a confused glance even as Tip-bit gasped and spluttered on the ground.

By this point the whole bowling alley had turned to watch the unfolding drama and Dustpan felt their attention keenly. Closing his eyes and speaking very slowly Dustpan sat down and attempted to explain things, “Okay Screwy, there are rules here. You can’t just go attacking ponies with brooms just because you don’t like them.”

Screwball smiled, “Or because they smell of pickles,” she added helpfully.

Dustpan nodded, still keeping his eyes closed, “Or any other vegetable or fruit for that matter,” The sounds of Tip-bit slowly reviving drew Dustpan’s attention to the stallion and when Dustpan finally opened his eyes it was to find Tip glaring at him.

“I’ll....have her charged....with assault, that pony is a mad mare!” Tip managed to say between the coughs and splutters.

Screwball beamed happily, “Oh you really thi....” She began but Dustpan darted forward and quickly placed a hoof over her mouth.

“No, no, no Tip-bit; there’s no need for that. Screwball here is just very enthusiastic that’s all. I’m sure she didn’t mean to cause you any harm,” Dustpan said quickly as Screwball squirmed in his grasp. He glanced meaningfully at her before turning back to Tip-bit with a forced smile.

The recovering pony got slowly to his hooves and drew in a deep breath before responding, “She’s a menace Dustpan, it’s no surprise she hangs around with the likes of you.” Tip-bit rubbed his throat before grinning nastily at the pair, “Well we can just add that to the settlement you owe me.”

Dustpan snorted in anger, “Now wait just a minute Tip that’s not fair, she doesn’t know any better,” He glared at Tip-bit only for the other stallion’s grin to widen again.

“That’s not my problem Dustpan and you should choose your friends more carefully if you’re worried about the potential fallout,” Tip chuckled before tucking the scroll behind Dustpan’s ear, and scrunched up his nose with distain. “I can see you have your hooves full already,” he indicated Screwball who was doing all she could to get her hooves around Tip-bit's neck with only Dustpan’s restraining preventing it.

Dustpan snorted again, watching as the crowd parted and Tip swaggered his way past, waving a mocking hoof in farewell. With forced calm, Dustpan lowered his hoof while Screwball worked her jaw back and forth. She rubbed her muzzle tenderly from where his hoof had been pressed before grumbling, “Should have let me use the broom, he wouldn’t have been any more trouble.”

Screwball watched the departing Tip-bit with daggers in her eyes as Dustpan rolled his own in turn, “Screwy, you really can’t go around attacking ponies with a broom; you will get into trouble,” He studied Screwball cautiously as her little propeller resumed its normal speed and felt relieved that she seemed to be calming down.

The watching crowd began to disperse, the 'entertainment' concluded and Dustpan ushered Screwball over to the nearby seats. What would she have done to Tip-bit if Dustpan hadn’t stepped in? He stared at her for a long moment while she glared at the floor and continued to mumble darkly.

Dustpan removed the scroll from behind his ear before placing it down on the seat next to him, then forced a cheery note into his voice, “Well we have paid for this game and I’m not going to let a pony like Tip ruin that for me.”

He leaned past, the still pouting Screwball and grabbed another ball off the rack before moving up to the lane. Dustpan looked hopefully back at her, but she was still muttering and paid him no attention. Shaking his head sadly, Dustpan pushed all thoughts of Tip-bit from his mind and threw the ball savagely.

As the ball rolled its way into the gutter, Screwball resolutely moved her hoof over to the contract sitting on the cushioned chair and slowly unrolled it. So intent was Dustpan on his game that he failed to notice the wolfish grin that settled on Screwballs muzzle.

“I’ve got my eye on you Mr Dustpan, don’t think I have forgotten your wanton behaviour,” Star Glancer stated grimly as she opened the front door to the boarding house.

The sun was already sinking below the rooftops in Canterlot by the time Dustpan and Screwball trotted their steady way back to his lodgings. Gloom hung heavily on the pair as Star Glancer stepped back to allow them entry.

“And don’t think you’re getting off the hook either Miss; it takes two to cause that kind of trouble, you shouldn’t encourage him,” Star Glancer added with a rueful tone.

Dustpan waved a dismissive fore hoof at Star and she felt her irritation rise, “I would have a word with you Dusty,” Star paused as he looked at her with tired eyes. Certain she’d gotten Dustpan's attention, Star tilted her head at Screwball who had yet to cross the threshold, “Alone Miss.”

Screwball snorted tetchily before sitting down on the door step, her back to dustpan and the elderly mare. Star Glancer pushed the door shut as Dustpan stared morosely at the floor, he looked so despondent.

Smiling sadly Star spoke softly as she lay a comforting hoof on Dustpan's shoulder, “Oh Dusty what have you gotten yourself involved in?”

Dustpan gave a deep sigh, “Look Star, it’s all very complicated and I doubt you would understand.”

Star chuckled slyly, “Try me.”

She watched as Dustpan opened and closed his mouth a few times but no sounds came out. Star waited a moment longer before deciding to spare Dustpan any further suffering, “Could it be something to do with a magical creature of chaos by any chance?”

Dustpan’s head snapped up and his eyes went wide, “How did you....?”

Star Glancer smiled genuinely, “My dear Dusty, I would be a terrible landmare if I didn’t know what was going on under my own roof now wouldn’t I? It’s a landmare’s job to keep a close eye on her lodgers.”

Dustpan looked hurt and Star felt like the poor colt deserved at least some reassuring, “Oh alright, it’s more than just me being nosey: I overhearing your little chat with Discord okay,” Star dropped her voice before going on, “Between you and me I have some very good magical wards on this place, so I knew instantly when He popped in. That’s how I knew you were in trouble.”

The look of hurt morphed into confusion before Dustpan opened his mouth again, “Why would you need such protection Star, this is just a normal boarding house?” Star Glancer froze guiltily, “It is just a normal boarding house right?” Dustpan pressed.

Star coughed realising she’d said a little too much and cursed inwardly: I’m getting soft in my old age. She smiled before brushing his question off, “Oh a poor old mare like me can’t be too careful, strange creatures about you know. Anyway I was worried about you and thought you could do with some good advice.”

Dustpan didn’t look convinced, “You know Discord?”

Star shuffled her hooves, “Me? Well I’ve....er heard of him of course, who hasn’t these days?”

Dustpan cocked a disbelieving eyebrow, “Oh no Star, you said He with a capital ‘H’, you know a lot more about things than you’re letting on don’t you?”

Drat rumbled, you really have lost your edge Star Glancer. Looking cautiously to the front door and ensuring it was tightly closed Star made a decision, “Okay colt, you caught me,” She moved forward and locked the door, “Hey Seed and Phoenix Feathers I really am too old for this game.”

Star motioned for Dustpan to follow her and without even waiting she trotted slowly to her drawing room. Upon reaching the door Star worked her magic and unlocked the door to the own rooms.

Double checking that Screwball definitively hadn't followed them, Star trotted through into her home and beckoned for Dustpan to enter. She had never let anypony (or any other....things for that matter) in here; her husband having long since gone the way of the world and no children of her own: Therefore Star felt a little, well, let down as Dustpan came in, such an unprecedented event should have more fanfare about it in her opinion.

She quickly offered Dustpan the single chair in the study before busying herself in the kitchen, “Would you care for some coco Dusty?”

When no reply came Star poked her head around the corner and saw that he was simply staring around the room in mute interest. He glanced at the furnishings: A rough writing desk that Star refused to replace even though it was older than her, along with the single well-used swivel chair Dustpan was currently seated on.

She smiled indulgently as he studied the aged paintings on the walls; portraits of various official looking-ponies who Star had been privileged to meet during her career. There were writing implements scattered across every flat surface and Star was a little embarrassed that things were in such a clutter.

It felt strange to have another pony here after so long, but Star was glad it was Dustpan. If she was being honest with herself, he felt like the grandson she’d never have. Maybe that’s why I’m so soft on him, you certainly wouldn’t be telling any pony else what you’re about to.

She made her way back to the study with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate floating before her, “Now take this and listen Dusty: I used to work for the Princesses, well more specifically Princess Luna.”

Dustpan sipped at his drink and shrugged, “There’s nothing odd about that, lots of ponies do.” Star scrunched up her muzzle, maybe this was a bad idea? No Dustpan was in trouble and Star couldn’t just sit there.

“Well my work was a little less offical Dusty, I did some dangerous things for our Royal Highness and made some not very nice groups very unhappy,” Star studied Dustpan for his reaction, but so far the young pony was calm.

Star took a quick draft of her own drink before continuing, “As such when I retired the Princesses saw fit to 'look after' me and make sure my work didn’t catch up with me again.”

Dustpan peered at Star Glancer for a drawn out moment, “That explains the magical wards I guess.” He tipped his mug and took another long draft, “Okay so you were some sort of what, spy?”

Star chuckled, “Oh nothing so impressive, more of an 'informant'.” She motioned to the writing things all around the room, “I would keep an eye out for strange happenings and if I saw or heard anything of interest I would write to the Princess and let her know.”

Dustpan smirked, “Well there can’t be all that much that goes on in the day to day running of Canterlot that would interest the Princesses.” He smiled at Star, only to see she was dead serious.

“You’d be surprised at how much you don’t see colt,” Star said in a knowing way.

Shaking his head, Dustpan laughed in a doubtful manner, “Come on Star, you seriously think that I would believe there are big secret happenings hidden from the rest of us?”

Star Glancer gave Dustpan a long stare, Oh to be so young and naive again. She finished her coco before trying again, “Anyway Dusty; believe me or not, but you’re in deep manure with this Screwball filly.”

The stallion’s smile faded somewhat, “I’m just showing her around Canterlot that's all, I swear Star.” Dustpan swilled his coco around his mug as he stared around the room uncomfortably, “What’s the harm in showing a mare a good time?”

Star snorted, "How long have you got Dusty: She’s a few pupils short of a class, Discord is effectively her adoptive father, need I go on?” Star placed her now empty mug on the desk, “You saw how protective Discord is of Screwball, I wouldn’t want to be in your horse shoes right now Dusty.”

Dustpan swallowed the remnants of his own drink and vainly sought a place to put down his mug. Star Glancer grinned before taking the cup in her magic, “Look Dusty, I’m just worried about you: With Discord involved anything could happen, maybe you should put some distance between you and Screwball?”

The other pony laughed without any humour, “Oh Star I don’t think I could now, not unless I wanted to spend the rest of eternity as a squeaky toy.” Dustpan’s face brightened, “Plus Screwball’s not all that bad, she’s quite fun once you get to know her.”

Star shook her head sadly, “Look Dusty, I’ll spell it out for you: Put one hoof wrong and Discord will be down on you like a mountain. I’ve had to keep my eye on him a few times, and trust me you really don’t want to get on his bad side.”

Dustpan’s face hardened, “Well I will just have to make sure I don't.” He made to stand up, but Star Glancer wasn’t finished.

“Please Dusty; let me write to Luna, I’m sure we can find a way to stop this before it gets even more out of hoof,” Star had an edge of pleading in her tone now.

Dustpan's face was uncertain for a moment and Star Glancer dared hope she’d talked some sense into him. This evaporated when a determined expression formed on Dustpan’s muzzle, “Thank you Star for your concern, but did you ever stop to think what Screwball might think of all this? I like her Star; she’s funny and kind once you get to know her.”

He stood up and headed for the door, “I’m not going to hold who her ‘father’ is against her.”

“Well don’t say I didn’t warn you Dusty, mark my words Screwball is dangerous, not to mention Discord,” She told him in a last ditch attempt to persuade Dustpan, but he was having none of it.

Dustpan stopped at the door and without even turning around called out, “It’s not fair for you to judge Screwy, you don’t know her and I’m willing to give the filly a chance.” With that said Dustpan pulled open the door, stepped out into the corridor and without another word left a worried Star Glancer shaking her head sadly.

Dustpan returned to the front entrance of the boarding house expecting to find Screwball still waiting on the step outside, but as he pulled open the door all that greeted him was an empty street.

Sighing, Dustpan felt the day’s events unfolding in his memory and especially Star Glancer’s warning. He had a hard time accepting that she was some kind of ‘secret agent’ for Princess Luna, but he’d never known Star to lie about anything before.

Turning all this over in his mind Dustpan closed and locked the main door before retracing his steps back to his own room. The corridor was silent and bathed in gentle light from the moon, which filtered down from the skylights above. It was peaceful, quiet and just what Dustpan needed after another hectic day with Screwy.

He smiled as the memory of her smiling face floated to the surface and Dustpan felt his heart soar. Screwball, dear, sweet and eager Screwball: Despite the mayhem of the last few days, Dustpan found he’d not had so much fun for years and was actually looking forward to spending more time with her.

He really couldn’t see Screwball as the dangerous villain that Star Glancer was painting her to be, Screwy was just miss understood. Dustpan comforted himself with these thoughts as he unlocked his own door and stepped into the darkness of his apartment.

Sure Screwball was odd, but who was to say what normal meant huh? Dustpan felt the frustration mounting as he moved about in the familiar dark of his home. She’s just doing the best with what life has given her surely? Dustpan stomped back and forth as he mulled the situation over in his mind.

“Dusty, I think it’s time we sorted your little contract problem don’t you?” Dustpan froze as a sinister voice called out from the darkness and a he thought he caught sound of a roll of thunder in the distance.

Dustpan turned around slowly to see a pair of swirling vortexes regarding him from across the shadows of his apartment, “Er Screwball is that you?”

The darkness was silent for a moment and Dustpan thought the purple swirls flashed brightly before the female voice, heavy with intrigue and purpose, came again, “Of course it’s me Dusty, who else would it be?”

Another tremble of thunder was heard off in the distance and Dustpan swallowed nervously, “Good; um my contract problem, do you mean the one with Tip-bit?”

Dustpan saw the glowing eyes coming closer and felt a shiver pass over him, “That’s right Dusty, we need to show that stallion he can’t mess with the likes of us.”

Dustpan found himself backing away from the approaching patch of darker shadow, “Well um what did you have in mind Screwball?”

Dustpan felt the breath of the other pony against his cheek as a pair of hooves pressed him against the wall, “Well I have a plan that will make sure he will never be a problem again.” This statement was followed by an evil chuckle and a flash of lightning which briefly lit up the room.

The look on Screwball’s momentarily illuminated face shocked Dustpan to the core; all sharp angles and a grin that was just too wide. He shook with terror as he caught glimpses of a hoof being raised up towards his muzzle and forced his eyes shut as Screwball pressed in closer.

“Screwy you don’t have to you know, I can find the money somehow and Tip-bit isn’t all that bad.....” He felt the gentle touch of Screwball’s hoof as it brushed his cheek and began to tremble as the two swirls of her eyes filled his world.

Screwball’s muzzle was so close he could feel her hairs tickling his nose, she was holding something angular in her hoof and Dustpan thought he caught the glint of metal. To his mounting horror Screwball brought the object up and pressed it against his chin as her other hoof brushed past his ear.

Another roll of thunder sounded out which was quickly followed by a flash which revealed Screwball’s little propeller hat and spinning eyes. In that moment Dustpan fervently wished he had listened to Star Glancer’s warnings. Oh sweet Celestia Tip-bit is as good as dead and I can’t be far behind.

He felt the metal object digging into his throat as Screwball’s slow and sing song voice whispered in his ear, “This little tool will solve all our problems Dusty, let me give you a closer look.”

Dustpan felt her press forward and could hold in his terror no longer: He screwed his eyes shut and screamed like a little foal as he felt the sharp metal sliding across his neck and heard a mysterious ‘click’. The room was filled with a sudden brightness and Dustpan waited in horror for the pain to begin.

After a few moments when lancing pain failed to appear, Dustpan dared to slowly open one eye: Screwball was standing calmly in front of him and smiling with an easy going expression. Dustpan squinted as his eyes grew accustomed to the light from his over head lamp.

He gingerly felt his throat with a hoof and confirmed that it was unhurt before Screwball leaned in close and grinned at him, “Oh Dusty, you’re so silly: Screaming time is only on Thursdays, now stop being a big filly’s blouse and look at this.”

Dustpan focused on the object Screwball was holding in her hoof and felt himself relax. It was a book, with a metal reinforced cover and a pair of weighing scales on the front. With a trembling hoof he reached out and took the tome from Screwball before reading the title: The Laws and Judgments of Equestria.

He glanced back to Screwball who was fidgeting excitedly and felt his own muzzle scrunch up in confusion, “Where did you get this Screwy?”

Screwball smiled happily and bounced up and down like a rubber ball, “Oh my father is good friends with Twilight Sparkle; if you want a book on anything then she’s your pony.” All trace of the dark and malevolent mare had vanished to be replaced by the cheery random Screwball once again.

“Tip-bit is relying heavily on a predetermined clause in you contract that he is interpreting to his own perceived advantage,” Screwball’s manner had switched and from nowhere she was wearing a smart jacket, a pair of official looking glasses along with a conservative blue tie.

Dustpan hadn’t taken his eyes off her, one moment she was ‘normal’ and the next she was all dressed up. Despite the fact the world was slipping away from him again Dustpan couldn’t help but ask, “How do you do that Screwy?”

Screwball tilted her head down and peered at Dustpan over the new glasses, “I told you Mr Dustpan, it’s a trade secret that I am not prepared to share with you at this time. Now as my client I would like to draw your attention to these marked passages on the contract you signed.”

Dustpan exchanged the scroll for The Laws and Judgements of Equestria, which he passed back to Screwball. He then scanned the contract and saw that further sections of the document were now highlighted, other than those sections pointed out by Tip-bit.

“You really think this will work Screwball?” Dustpan asked hopefully, before the mare grinned wickedly.

Screwball hefted the book before replying excitedly, “I have no idea, but I’m sure it will be fun finding out!”

Chapter Six.

Chapter Six.

“Screwy are you sure this is a good idea? I mean he’s gotten a lawyer and everything,” Dustpan was fidgeting as he glanced about the food court.

Screwball and Dustpan waited outside the “Tasty Tulip”, a popular eatery for Canterlot’s working class. The pair shared the space with a number of other ponies, all seated on garishly coloured rounded seats and tables. The sun was warm in the sky, but this didn’t stop Dustpan’s trembling as he sipped his drink under the bright pink and yellow umbrella covering their table.

“I told you Dusty, I have a plan,” Screwball responded with confidence.

“One that you still won’t tell me,” Dustpan snapped back, casting glances around the crowded seating area. It was peak time; ponies were coming, going and the pair sat right in the middle of the action.

Screwball rolled her eyes, “Of course not silly, that would spoil the surprise,” she paused for a moment deep in thought, “Plus you would have said no.”

Dustpan choked on his drink before recovering enough to exclaim, “Okay that’s it I’m out of here.”

“Too late,” Screwball said sweetly, pointing to their quarry.

Dustpan followed the indicating hoof and to his despair saw Tip-bit along with two other stallions. As the trio approached he had time to take in Tip’s companions: One was a spindly grey specimen, with a slicked back black mane and a conservative tie.

The Second was a brute of a pony, dark brown and built like a workhorse. He looked out at the world from under a messy clump of corn coloured mane which refused to behave no matter how much its owner pulled at it. I would have almost been comical to Dustpan if the pony it was attached to didn’t look like he could pump iron with anvils.

The trio approached calmly and upon spotting Dusty and Screwball veered in their direction, Tip-bit grinning like a timber wolf who’d found a lonely crippled cow, “Ah Dustpan, and your unsettled friend,” Tip-bit’s scorn could have curdled fresh milk, “I see you mustered the courage to come after all.”

The elderly stallion pointed out his two companions, “This is ‘Quick Point’, my legal adviser,” moving on Tip introduced his other associate, “And this is ‘Tough Luck’, he’s here in case your friend gets any more ideas into her muddled mind.”

Quick Point nodded reservedly, while to Dustpan’s surprise Tough Luck waved in a friendly fashion. (In between trying to force his uncooperative mane out of his eyes) The three newcomers stood for a moment before Screwball offered them seats.

“It’s very nice to meet you all, please be seated,” Dustpan had to do a second take when he heard Screwball’s reply. She had, without him noticing, morphed once again and now bore a pair of half-moon specials of a bright red colour, while her normally wild mane was pulled back into a tight bun under her little hat: Screwy was the very picture of professional respectability.

The three ‘guests’ glanced at one another before turning to Dustpan who shrugged in a bemused fashion. Unsettled, the others took their seats as Tip-bit motioned for ‘Quick’ to begin. The lawyer lifted a heavy looking brief case onto the table before unfastening it with deliberate care.

Dustpan was beginning to believe the pony’s name was a misdemeanour: Quick Point’s manner was slow and precise and Dusty could easily imagine the pony taking the time to count out his sugar grains for his breakfast cereal.

The moment drew on as Quick produced a number of complicated looking papers, along with a copy of Dustpan’s contract to Tip-bit. With exaggerated care he arranged them in neat piles across the table before giving a very slow smile.

“The law is quite clear on this matter on several points,” Quick Point stated in a flat monotone. Celestia help us, he even speaks dully Dustpan winced internally as Quick took his sweet time to speak each word, ensuring it was clearly defined.

“I would draw your attention to sub clause ‘b’ in the said contract, and how it clearly indi.....” Quick was cut off as Screwball suddenly cried out ‘Objection!’

The whole food court paused at this outburst and Dustpan felt his checks redden as bemused stares turned to watch them from every direction.

Quick Point coughed before raising an eyebrow, “I beg your pardon Miss, but please do not interrupt,” He straightened his tie before continuing as if nothing had stopped him, “Now where was I? Ah yes, sub clause ‘b’ directly shows....”

Once again Screwball bellowed, cutting off Quick’s flow once more, “Objection and I move to Strike!”

The ponies all around looked to one another in utter confusion as Dustpan tried to sink into his seat, praying the ground would itself swallow him.

Quick’s calm manner showed a faint crack as his blue eyes glinted with annoyance, “Young filly, this is not a courtroom. We are not in session, this is a simple discussion over potential ramifications of your action....”

It seemed that Quick was doomed to never to finish a sentence as Screwball grinned happily before cutting him off once again, “I further motion that your case is a complete tissue of lies and that this case be thrown out at once.”

Quick Point began rubbing his head in irritation while Tough Luck and Tip-bit just stared at Screwball in complete bemusement, “Is she totally off her rocker?” ‘Tough’ asked, his eyes never leaving Screwball’s wildly waving hooves.

She smiled sweetly, “Why thank you good sir, I have spent many years perfecting it,” Screwball leaned in close to Tough who shrunk back from her as if she had the plague, before she whispered so loudly that Dustpan was sure they could have heard her the next street over, “I’ve always wanted to say those things, lawyer speak is so silly.”

Quick Point’s aura of calm detachment showed further signs of stress, “Young lady, I find your mocking of my profession most disagreeable, I insist that you cease this foolery and...”

Dustpan had to suppress a chuckle as Screwball interrupted the lawyer for a third time, “Oh I’m not practising ‘foolery’ I haven’t got enough balloons or cheese wheels for that; I am not mocking your profession good sir, in fact I find it quite interesting.”

The whole plaza paused as they tried to 'work out' that one before Screwball continued, “All these rules and regulations, ponies actually follow this stuff?”

Tip-bit tried to slice through the babble of Screwball, “Yes we do, and the law clearly states that you both owe me recompense for your acts.”

To every pony’s surprise Screwball actually paused and rubbed her chin, after a tense moment where no one spoke she shook her head, “No and I’m afraid no again Mr Tip-bit.”

Quick tried again, “I can assure you my dea....”

Screwball stepped in fast as lighting and Dustpan couldn’t help but smile as Quick Point ground his teeth in agitation, “First point: You do not follow these boring rules Mr Tip-bit and secondly the law as you put it Mr Quick does not support your assertions.”

An expectant silence settled upon the gathering, and Dustpan could have sworn that Screwball mouthed the words ‘pause for effect’ before continuing on, “I would draw your attention to point six point three: The employer must give reasonable time to inform his employee that a shift/schedule has been changed

Screwball indicated the section of the contract which had been highlighted in green, “Also I would point out sub clause ‘j’ in section three of the Worker’s and Employer’s Rights document of early diarchy period which still holds today: Employers are to ensure that all workers are trained in the use of equipment they are required to use as part of any given duty.

She smiled sweetly as both Quick and Tip frantically studied the relevant section of the contract along with the named document which Screwball produced out of the air. “I have an eye witness that can testify that both these rules have been broken by you Tip-bit on numerous occasions.

The crowd all around looked at each other and murmured in approval as Tip-bit paled slightly. Quick however, rallied to the call, “Very good points raised there Miss, but might I draw your attention to paragraph five point six of the contra....”

“I thought you might bring that up Mr Quick, but you can clearly see that your point is overridden by the contents of paragraph twelve: line three,” Screwball winked at Dustpan as the lawyer released a sound of frustration at being cut off.

Dustpan could only watch mouth agape as the pace increased, with Quick and Screwball trading points of law one after another and Quick’s manner deteriorating rapidly. Dusty glanced to Tip-bit who was sweating and further to Tough Luck who just sat there with a blank expression on his face.

The big stallion looked at Dustpan who shrugged and in a moment of shared companionship motioned for Tough to follow him to a safe distance before offering Tough a drink, “Looks like these two are going to be at this for while doesn’t it?”

Tough nodded and sipped the proffered refreshment, “She ain’t gonna get violent is she?” He asked in a slightly worried tone as Quick’s brief case sailed through the air and clattered to a stop on the cobbled street beyond the plaza.

Dustpan shook his head as Quick Point dived at Screwball who was still clutching a brief and pointing out several areas in which Quick’s conduct during that case was in question, “Only as a last resort I hope.”

Tough gave a relieved sigh, “Good, the crazy ones can be a hoof full.”

Dusty chuckled in agreement, “Oh you’re so right Tough, she’s one of best for that.” The pair watched as Quick tried to force feed Screwball a scrunched up ball of papers even as she continued to list his faults out of the Protocols of the Equestrian Lawyer in Regards to Good Practice.

“Where did you find her, I mean had she escaped from an asylum?” Tough asked in a mesmerized manner as Tip-bit crawled under a nearby table; the ‘verbal debate’ having escalated to include both plates and cutlery being thrown by the now berserk Quick Point.

Dustpan grinned as Screwball spun and rolled with ease, avoiding the thrown implements while all the while giving a dictation from Honest Practices and You, “Well she just kinda fell into my life and it hasn’t been the same since.”

The crowd were cheering for one side or the other as the frantic restaurant owner could only watch on in horror. Tables were overturned, chairs were broken and various condiments flew through the air to shattering on the ground.

Tough shook his head as he drained the last of the free drink, “Well Mr, I don’t envy you; seems like you have got a wild one there.” He placed the cup on the only upright table remaining, “Thanks for the drink, I hope you can work out your troubles with Tip.”

Dustpan thanked Tough and waved him goodbye as Screwball finished her discourse to the now gibbering Quick Point, his mane was a crazed mess and the lawyer’s tie looked like it had been put through a paper shredder.

Shaking her head sadly, Screwball trotted up to Dustpan and sat triumphantly opposite him, “Who could have known all those laws and rules could be so much fun?” Her eyes were bright, not a single hair of her mane was out of place and Dustpan pan was struck by just how pretty she was.

“Okay Screwy I give up, how do you do it?” Dustpan asked as she flicked through another book of Equestrian law.

“Do what Dusty?” Screwball replied in an absentminded way, her muzzled buried in the tome and her eyes riveted on the words contained within.

It was a hard thing to put your hoof on but Dustpan tried nevertheless, “Well one moment you’re well you, the next you’re the world’s greatest expert on laws and rules,” Dustpan sipped his drink as he worked out how to further phrase his question, “Then there was the bowling alley, you threw a three strikes in a row without even thinking about it, yet still managed to lose the game against me terribly?”

That was something that still bothered Dustpan, the maths just didn’t add up no matter how many times he tried. Even the automated scorer broke down at the end and they had been forced to call it a draw. (Before Screwball helpfully pointed out that somehow Dustpan had won)

Screwball closed the book and grinned at Dustpan, “Well it’s really simple to be honest, I’m Discord’s daughter so I guess a bit of his chaos rubbed off on me.”

Dustpan shook his head as some of the guards arrived and began talking to the unfortunate owner of the now trashed food court. The irate stallion pointed to the frothing Quick Point who was rolling on the floor while chewing his own tie and then further at Screwball and Dustpan. Of Tip-bit, there was no sign; the old pony must have fled the scene already.

“But Screwy you’re adop....” Dustpan began before it was his turn to be cut off.

“Hello my little ponies, I trust you’re both doing well?” A bright flash announced the arrival of Discord who was suddenly slouched in the chair opposite the pair.

“Oh hello father, we’re having a great time!” Screwball announced excitedly, her face shining with joy.

“Pleased to hear it my dear,” Discord looked around the devastation and chuckled, “And a fine job if I do say so myself.” He grinned at Dustpan, whose ears had flattened: the pair of guards was making their way over to the seated trio.

The first guard coughed, “Ehm....err this pony said you were partly responsible for the current state of his restaurant. We need to...”

Screwball waved a dismissive hoof, “Oh I think that under section seven of paragraph twenty four....” for once it was Screwball who was cut off mid flow as Quick Point began sobbing inconsolably. She spared Dustpan a look so innocent that he was surprised a little halo didn’t appear above her head.

“I think you will find that Quick Point did all of this damage and we were just innocent bystanders,” Dustpan commented flatly never taking his eyes off Discord.

The two soldiers glanced to one another before retreating and gathered up the bawling Quick Point as Discord smiled warmly, “Nevertheless I feel that we should compensate the poor shop owner, a good deed and all that in the wake of such delicious chaos.”

He nodded to Screwball, “My dear, please pay the poor owner for any damages that these miscreants have caused, there’s a good girl.”

Screwball nodded enthusiastically and trotted off to see to the distraught manager while Discord watched her go, before rounding on Dustpan, “I would like to remind you colt of our arrangement.”

Dustpan raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I have been doing my best to keep Screwball happy, what more do you want?”

Discord took a leisurely sip of the glass in his claw, “I told you that she firmly believes that I am her father, it could unsettle Screwball in a bad way should you try to convince her otherwise.”

Dustpan stared at the draconequus in mute shock, “You came here to make sure I didn’t tell her that she’s not really your daughter?” Dustpan couldn’t believe it, “Surely you have tried to tell her?”

Discord formed an arch with his mismatched fingers as he rested his elbows on the table, “I did try to begin with; but the results were, less than pleasant. All in all I thought it best to allow her to live under that delusion until we came to a better point to address it.”

Discord looked up as Screwball trotted back towards them, a huge grin plastered across her muzzle, “All done, he was very grateful for our contribution,” She sat down and saw both Dustpan and Discord watching her, “What?”

The moment drew out as the staff began to clean up the mess all around the trio until finally Discord broke the silence, “I was just asking Dustpan about your very fine display,” He spared a meaningful glance at Dustpan, “I’m so glad all those law books you asked me to find were useful.”

Screwball beamed, “They were, I never knew so many rules could exist; did you also know that rules can change over time, for example something that was wrong to do at one point is perfectly legal during another point in time?”

Dustpan put his current conundrum aside, “That’s great Screwy, I have to admit I would never have took you for a reading type.”

Screwball giggled, “Oh I’m not normally, but with the right motivation I managed to overcome,” she beamed at Dustpan in a strange way, and he couldn’t help but notice that Discord’s face darkened. “Plus how do you know how to break the rules if you don’t know what they are?” Screwball prattled on as Discord and Dustpan locked gazes in a meaningful way.

“Very good my dear, but I think that’s enough fun for one day,” Screwball’s ears drooped, “Awww but dad....I was having a great time with Dusty.” There was that odd glance towards Dustpan again, he felt his own heart stir as Screwball’s eyes met his and she gave him a little smile.”

Discord coughed, “No my dear, I simply must have your help with a number of projects. May be another time alright?”

Screwball pouted before Discord pointed with a claw, “Now Screwball.” Finally bowing in defeat she shuffled past Dustpan and in the blink of an eye was gone.

The stern manner that Discord had used sent a shiver of unease up Dustpan’s spine, reminding him far too much of the fire and brimstone ‘talk’ from before. Discord turned back to Dustpan, his expression dangerous:

“I think it would be good for Screwball and you to have a little time apart Dustpan,” Discord pronounced like a judge ordering an execution.

Dustpan was taken aback, “Does this mean I am free to go then, no more lessons about being a normal pony and so forth?”

Discord studied him for a moment before replying coldly, “For the time being Dustpan.”

The pony felt his heart leap, finally he was free of.....but then the empty feeling hit Dustpan again and he found himself oddly melancholy, “Maybe I could come and visit when things have calmed down a bit?” He asked hopefully and Discord’s face grew darker still.

“Maybe,” Discord let the word hang in the air for a moment before he finished his glass and stood up until he loomed over Dustpan, “Don’t call us, if I have further need of your servicesI will let you know.”

The large creature reached into thin air and produced a bag which clinked heavily, “This should cover any expenses our little arrangement may have cost you,” Discord handed the bag to Dustpan who opened it gingerly to see it revealed a substantial amount of bits.

With another snap of his fingers Discord was gone, leaving an uncertain Dustpan sitting amidst the devastation. He looked around the mayhem caused and smiled sadly to himself, one thing he was certain of was that Tip-bit’s lawyer wouldn’t be coming back to harass him any time soon. Dustpan could only hope that Tip-bit would learn his lesson too and finally leave Dustpan in peace.

Clutching his payment, Dustpan arose, paid the bill and began heading off to his home. As he trotted down the streets and byways of Canterlot he felt that odd empty feeling in his core again. To his amazement Dustpan kept hoping that Screwball would appear around the next corner, but each time he was disappointed in his wish.

All too soon Dustpan found himself standing before the lodging house again. He took a deep breath and climbed the steps before knocking on the door: Star Glancer having still not returned his key meant that Dusty was forced to wait until the mare came to open the door for him.

She finally undid the locks and stared at Dustpan in a cautious manner, “I see you're alone this time Dusty, no menace with you?

Dustpan sighed, “No Star just me, only me.” With a resigned look he passed several coins over to Star Glancer, “This should cover the rent I owe you; I’ll go pack my things.”

Star’s face softened as she looked upon the sad stallion before her, “Oh about that Dusty, I have changed my mind. You can stay, I know it was all just a big miss understanding.”

She held up a piece of paper with some writing on it, “Discord apologises for the situation he and Screwball put you in.”

Dustpan didn’t even bother to look at the explanation, “Thanks Star, I’ll be in my room then.” Without another word he made his slow way along the familiar passage, with a despondent Star Glancer watching him the whole way until he closed his door.

Dustpan sat at his desk and stared at the pile of coins before him as the pale light of dusk filtered in from outside. This gold amounted to about a year’s wages and it meant his money troubles were solved; at least until he could find a new job anyway. If he truly wanted to he could go for a night on the town, or maybe four, but he just didn’t feel like it.

Everywhere he looked he saw what he’d striven for, everything he needed to live comfortably. He chided himself as, like before, none of this pleased him. If that wasn’t what he wanted then what was it?

Dustpan had a horrible suspicion that he knew the answer; it wasn’t an answer he wanted to hear right now as it seemed so far out of his reach as to be impossible. He continued to study his desk and the pile of money on it.

He couldn’t be pining, surely, not for her? The whole idea was ludicrous and made all the more bitter because he had the sinking feeling he would never see her again. One didn’t cross a being like Discord lightly. Dustpan shook his head and chuckled morosely, “Look at me, having ideas about breaking into Discord’s realm to find a filly who drives me nuts.”

The absurdity of it caused him to laugh grimly, his life really was a mess. Still the longing wouldn’t leave him, Dustpan missed her giggles, her odd questions and her bizarre insights into things. He missed her eyes and the stupid way her propeller hat spun at different speeds to reflect Screwball’s mood.

He even missed the fact he had no clue what she was going to do next, nervous excitement of a world where nothing was predictable. Was she really worth it though? Dustpan had always looked at the value of things, weighed up the cost of choices and tried to make informed decisions: In short he always tried to look at things sensibly.

Now his heart was screaming at him to do something totally bonkers, where nothing was certain. Had he just imagined the way Screwball had looked at him? Was she so far gone that the crazy filly didn’t even know what these feelings were? Dustpan was slowly coming to the conclusion that he would never be at peace again unless he found out.

A fresh resolve formed in his eyes and he slammed his hoof down on the desk, caused the piled gold to dance and spin before much of it tumbled onto the floor below. Without even stopping to collect the fallen coins Dustpan headed for his door, wrenched it open and headed straight for Star’s door.

He pounded on the frame as if all the prisoners of Tartarus were after him and only stopped when a bleary eyed Star Glancer opened the door, “Dustpan? What are you doing?”

He smiled in an intense fashion, his eyes bright with determined resolution, “I am going after her Star and I need your help!”

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven.

“Dustpan I must insist you stop this right now!” Star Glancer shrilled as the determined stallion pulled yet another draw out of the desk and continued rummaging.

Star could only watch in mounting dismay as Dustpan rifled through her belongings as, not even wait for a reply, Dustpan pushed past Star, a resolute expression engraved upon his face.

“I’m going after her Star; I know it sounds crazy, but you’re not going to stop me,” Dustpan stated as further draws were hauled out and its contents unceremoniously dumped onto the floor.

Star Glancer winced as more of her neat and tidy notes were scattered across the rug, months of careful organisation ruined in a moment of wilful disregard.

“Dusty, stop! For one thing you’re not making any sense, going after whom?” Star shouted desperately, as yet more files and papers fountained down.

Dustpan ignored the question as he looked from one sheet of paper to another before turning his attention to the next set of ordered files, “Don’t try to stop me Star, she can’t be willingly staying away: He must be stopping her!”

The targeted files were enveloped in a magical glow as Star lifted what she could out of Dustpan’s reach, “Slow down Dusty, you don’t seriously mean Screwball?”

At the mention of the young mare’s name a shudder went through Dustpan and he turned his intense eyes on Star Glancer, “Of course I mean Screwball! Discord must be holding her captive!”

Blinking a few times Star leaned back from the shouting Dustpan, watching his feverish stare with mounting concern. Her face became one of understanding, “Oh Dusty you really have been spending too much time with that crazy pair, Screwball’s not being held captive; it’s all in the letter Discord sent me if you would only read it.”

She waved the paper before Dustpan who glanced momentarily at it before snorting with derision, “Oh yeah, like I trust anything that guy has to say.” He rolled his eyes and went back to rifling through Star’s papers, “You didn’t see him Star, the way he spoke and looked: Discord didn’t want me to see Screwball anymore and now she’s gone.”

Star wilted as she heard the longing in Dustpan’s voice. Oh dear, oh dear she smiled sadly as the frantic Dustpan destroyed yet more of her careful sorting. He really did have it bad. Star Glance carefully tucked the rescued files away before resting a conciliatory hoof on Dustpan’s shoulder, “Dear Dusty, I do believe you’re truly smitten aren’t you?”

He rounded on her with tears rimming his desperate eyes, “No, I, maybe, No!” Dustpan sank down as he sat unsteadily among the documents littering the ground, “Maybe....I just want to see her again and make sure she’s okay.”

Star shook he head gently as Dustpan starred at the floor despairingly. The poor colt had only been away from the filly for a few hours and was ready to burst into tears. Star was keenly reminded of her own dabbling in romance and how much it hurt when you found out it wasn’t all smiles and sunshine.

Moving to hug the trembling Dustpan, Star smiled sadly as he shook, “Now did Discord say you could never see her again?”

Still not looking up, Dustpan shook his head, “No but he had that tone. I saw his eyes Star they weren’t happy at all: He’s never going to let me see Screwball again.”

Star scrunched up her muzzle, “Well that may be true, but have you ever thought it better that you’re well out of it? You said before you didn’t have a choice.”

His tears flowed freely as Dustpan fixed her with a stare of hopelessness and Star nodded in understanding, “Okay so why in the wide world of Equestria did you think I could help you? I’m retired Dusty.”

Dustpan sniffled before pulling himself together enough to speak, “Well you worked for the Princesses, I thought you would have some sort of spell or something to get me into Discord’s realm?”

Star chuckled, “No, no, no; I have nothing like that Dusty, I’m an informant not a secret agent. You’d need to be a very powerful unicorn or alicorn to manage something like that and sadly I’m neither.” Star Glancer did however feel the stirrings of a plan that just might work.

The look of despair clouded Dustpan’s face again and Star couldn’t help but grin mischievously, “Thankfully we don’t need to break into Discord’s realm.”

Dustpan’s face creased up in confusion as Star bounced her eyebrows, “We can just trot right on in of course.”

“Did you really have to shave half my mane off?” Dustpan asked flatly.

“Yes,” Star replied.

“And draw these silly faces on me?” Dustpan asked further.

“Yes,” Star answered levelly.

“And what about.....” Dustpan began before Star snapped.

“Yes Dusty, we had to and maybe you will think twice before ruining my files hmmm?” She grinned wickedly as Dustpan felt his cheeks glowing with embarrassment.

Star Glancer led the way along the crowded streets of Canterlot, a smug air following in her wake and Dustpan had to fight not to hide his head as ponies all around watched him with wide eyes.

“Surely we could have gone at a less busy time Star, everypony is staring at me,” Dustpan almost pleaded as small foals pointed and whispered to their parents.

“We have to go during normal visiting hours Dusty, that’s now,” Star Glancer simpered happily as a small pack of giggling fillies past by, all chatting to each other with amused glee. Dustpan cringed and closed his eyes to hide himself from the bemused looks.

“You’re not twitching enough Dusty, you need to make this look good or all our efforts will be wasted,” Star cautioned with just that little hint of pleasure.

Dustpan certainly felt his lip trembling; that took no effort at all. Dustpan’s hooves ached from the odd shoes he was forced to wear and even as he dared to open an eye he saw his reflection in a shop window and winced.

His half shorn mane was pink with yellow patches; his grey fur was daubed with smiley faces and squiggles, worst of all: He was wearing a ballerina’s outfit and four odd boots. Dustpan was ready to weep as yet more bemused faces watched him all the way to the magic quarter of the city and Discord’s ‘Home for Interesting Ponies’.

When Star Glancer had first suggested the scheme it had seemed a good idea to Dustpan, but now, feeling utterly ridiculous he was having serious second thoughts. Of all the ponies about only the guards seemed not to be phased by Dustpan’s appearance and he was grateful for that at least.

He allowed himself to be led under a looming archway that indicated they were approaching their destination and Dustpan felt a tingle dance across his body. Star was similarly afflicted and muttered unhappily, “I’ll never get used to that, no matter how many times I come here.”

Dustpan momentarily forgot his getup and watched Star with a quizzical expression before she explained further, “Discord’s home and treatment centre is heavily warded by magical spells, can’t be having all that chaos spilling out into the city.” Star Glancer shivered, “Not like last time.”

He was about to ask more when a blue blur bumped into him and apologised, “Oh sorry didn’t see you there,” The blur resolved itself into a mare with a big smile on her muzzle. She eyed Dustpan for a moment before her face broke into a happy grin, “Oh it’s you, so great to see you again. Dustpan was it?”

Dustpan blinked before focusing on the pony before him, “Er yes; Screw Loose right?”

Screw Loose beamed at him, “Sorry about that, saw a cart and just had to chase it.”

Dustpan thought for a moment, “Ah yes the dog biscuits and things, don’t ponies get upset when you chase their carts?”

Screw Loose looked genuinely confused, “Why would they? I was rushing to get a taxi; you would think they would be happy for the business.”

Dustpan back peddled, “Oh yes I er sorry.”

She smiled indulgently, “Not to worry Dustpan, like the outfit by the way.”

He remembered what he was wearing and felt the embarrassment rising again, “Oh yeah this, I er...”

Screw Loose just laughed, “So glad you came back, I had a feeling you would; I have a nose for these things.” Her face fell, “But as for me I have a cart to catch, must dash, but hope to see you during free time again!”

Dustpan watched the retreating Screw Loose with an ominous sense of dread, what he was about to do was finally hitting home: They were going to ‘commit’ Dustpan to get him back into H.I.P and to find Screwball.

“Isn’t that sweet, I mean I know Discord is well Discord, but I am forced to admit he gets results, “Star Glancer said in a cheerful manner as she prodded Dustpan to keep moving.

The outward face of H.I.P was disappointingly normal and could have easily been mistaken for your average stately home of Canterlot’s social cream. It had rising towers with red tiles, pillars of white marble and a general look of respectability.

Dustpan wouldn’t have been surprised to see a pony of ‘Fancy Pants’ ilk trotting out of the embossed wooden doors leading to the clinic, feeling almost cheated by the plain golden plaque mounted next to the main doors displaying: Discord’s Home for Interesting Ponies, Helping Head Cases since Four P.P.T.A

“P.P.T.A?” Dustpan asked Star, who suddenly looked nervous.

She shook herself before responding distractedly, “Hmmm, oh Pre Princess Twilight’s Ascension: The clinic was only founded four years after Twilight became an alicorn.”

Dustpan’s mind juddered, “Wait, wait, this place was founded before Discord even met...”

“It’s best not to think about it Dusty. That kind of message is just an introduction to what goes on in there,” Star commented uncertainly. She swung around and looked Dustpan right in the eyes, “Are you sure you’re willing to do this Dusty, I mean we can always..”

He snorted, “After all I have done to come this far? No chance: I’m going in.”

Star closed her eyes and drew a calming breath, “Okay then; let’s make this look good.”

“Heeellllowie! Welcome to H.I.P I really think you will enjoy your stay here!” Dustpan’s face was a picture of utter bemusement as he watched the pink pony before him.

Of all the things he had expected, Dustpan would not have planned on meeting one of the famous Element Bearers here and he stared in amazement as no other pony than Pinkie Pie sat behind the reception desk. Her excited blue eyes locked with Star’s and her already wide smile impossibly grew, “Hey it’s Star Glancer, how’s it going Nosey-Mcnose-Pants?”

The reception area was just as finely decorated as the outside of H.I.P, but that was where the order ended and the chaos began. Not two pieces of furniture were alike, the floor was covered in the alternating checkerboard patterns that Discord was so fond of.

It appeared that Star was just as taken aback by this turn of events as she stood there, her mouth moving slowly but silently. Star shook for a moment before responding, “Pinkie Pie, what in the name of Luna are you doing here?”

Pinkie Pie beamed, “Just filling in for somepony, even the 'coo-coo' need a day off every so often.”

Dustpan’s mouth hung open, “You’re Pinkie Pie, as in The Pinkie Pie .”

“Yep I’m The Pinkie Pie, Pinkie replied before producing a small official looking card, “So who’s the lucky pony being checked in today?”

It took a few moments for Star Glancer to catch up with the question, “What? Oh this is,” She risked a look at Dustpan before responding, “This is ‘Bouncy Smile’, he’s an old work friend of mine but has recently developed some problems.” Dustpan quickly twitched on cue and stuck his tongue out at an odd angle, doing his best to go cross-eyed.

Pinkie Pie nodded sagely, “Of course , of course, I understand. So he’s pretending to be loco in the coco to sneak in, find his filly friend, tell her he loves her and rescue said filly from the dastardly clutches of Discord right?” Both Star Glancer and Dustpan froze slack jawed as Pinkie Pie rambled on happily.

“Um yes,” Dustpan managed to say, his brain fast pouring down the drain.

Pinkie quickly scribbled down something on the admissions card with a cheerful smile, “In that case I would advise you to avoid rooms three through nineteen; Discord is holding a therapy session of introspection and self awareness. Screwball was last seen heading for the cafeteria for her lunch break.”

Pinkie Pie handed the small card to Dustpan who glanced at it gingerly and saw that it indeed bore the writing: Dustpan, highly dangerous mission to rescue the filly he loves. He stared at the writing for a long moment before his gaze travelled up to Pinkie Pie who was still smiling happily at him, “Um thank you?”

Pinkie nodded, “You’re welcome Dusty, through that door, second left and finally third right should lead you straight to Screwball.” Dustpan looked to the indicated door, its gold edged glass frame invitingly open. Pinkie then handed the pair some brown paper bags, “Lunches, if you’re heading for the cafeteria then you need to blend in.”

“How....why?” Dustpan asked in utter confusion before Star Glancer pushed him forward.

“Don’t look gift horses in the mouth Dusty,” Star admonished before shoving Dustpan towards the door and smiling at Pinkie Pie, “Thanks Pinkie.”

Pinkie Pie waved them off cheerfully before both Star and Dustpan stepped through the door only to find themselves standing before a pit filled with red goo.

Dustpan leant forward and sniffed; his nose filling with a sweet smell, “Strawberry jam?”

“Oh dear,” Star stammered as the door closed behind the pair, “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Dustpan jumped as the doors they just passed through (now being made of very solid looking oak) Slammed heavily behind them and turned his fearful eyes to Star Glancer, “What do you mean oh dear?

Star looked uncertain, “Well I trust Pinkie Pie of course, but...” Dustpan didn’t feel at all reassured by her tone.

“Well then what’s the problem?” Dustpan asked as he dipped his hoof in the sugary gloop and licked it.

“I really hate Strawberries, “ Star explained, “They bring me out in a rash.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Well you don’t have to eat it?”

Star shook her head, “No, no; just touching it will cause me to puff up like a balloon and if that’s really Strawberry jam then Discord already knows we’re here.”

Looking, Dustpan saw the pit was probably too wide to jump, but mercifully not very deep: He may be able to wade through? A plan was forming, but it did mean leaving Star behind, “Well you could wait here while I press on?” The words had barely left Dustpan's mouth when a sinister voice called out:

“I would suggest that you start running,” The taunting sound of Discord’s voice echoed down the corridor, quickly followed by sinister laughter.

Before either pony could say anything more a creaking sounded behind them and to their horror, the passageway began to shrink. The door itself began to buckle and split as the green and blue wallpapered walls began to constrict and the ceiling bowed downwards. It was as if a huge hand was squeezing the corridor and the constriction was slowly moving towards the pair.

Dustpan’s wide eyes met with Stars and they both looked further along to see the shrinkage was forcing them forward. Without even a moment’s thought Dustpan threw himself bodily into the pit of strawberry jam and quickly sunk in up to his flank.

“Star; use me as a stepping stone!” Dustpan shouted, bracing his legs and firming his stance.

Star Glancer hesitated, only for the constricting passage to slowly push her forward towards the pit. Frantically she scrabbled with her fore hooves until there was no option. With a muttering curse, Star pushed off with her back legs and landed unsteadily on Dustpan’s back.

The impact of her hooves caused Dustpan to falter and even though he tried his best to be a solid launch pad for Star she slipped. Before he could correct his mistake one of Star’s hooves sunk into the red jam before she pushed off and landed on the far side of the pit.

Dustpan heaved himself out and looked sorrowfully at Star who was cursing loudly as and trying to wipe the jam off against the floor. Discord’s laughter still resounded around the passage as the Star’s worst prediction came true. Even as dustpan watched the contaminated hoof began to turn an angry-red and puff up.

“Sorry Dusty, I told you I was getting too old for this kind of thing,” She smiled sadly, “don’t worry it isn’t dangerous as long as I don’t swallow any; but it does mean I won’t be going anywhere fast I....” Suddenly Star Glancer vanished with a pop.

“As much fun as this is I don’t want your health to be in danger Miss Star: I have no quarrel with you and so I will get you some treatment,” The mocking voice of Discord interrupted, leaving a jam smothered and shocked Dustpan alone in the rapidly shrinking passageway.

“I do apologise about this all Dustpan, ‘Hugh Jelly’ does have a habit of leaving his baths lying around. Such a shame that Star won’t be able to follow you further,” Discord’s disembodied voice called out, following Dustpan as he galloped away from the diminishing corridor.

“I thought we had a deal Dustpan: I would call you if I needed you to come and keep Screwball company, but here you are (In very fetching attire I might add) and so I start to wonder why?” Discord’s words chased Dustpan as he ran forward, the walls all around him bulging and little wisps of smoke began to filter through the floor.

Dustpan counted one turn off before darting down the second just as Pinkie Pie had instructed, The ground under his hooves becoming gritty and he was sure the smell of brimstone forced its way into his nostrils, even through the heavy aroma of strawberry jam.

“I normally would let my dear little Screwball have her heart’s desire you know and until now she’s been very happy with what I provided,” Dustpan’s ears resounded with the sinister voice of Discord even as he counted the junctions in a rapidly dissolving path. With each hoof fall less and less of the disordered finery could be seen, being replaced with desolate wastelands, jagged fissures and green flames.

One, two.... Dustpan counted, doing his best to ignore the constant ramblings of Discord, which now seemed to be coming from right beside his ear in a low whisper, “But then you stumbled into our lives, filling her head with ideas of ‘normality’ and as a good ‘father’ I gave her room to explore and find out: I was patient.”

Three... Dustpan skidded on the grey uneven rock, sending pebbles and loose stones scattering as he dived to the right and saw with a flash of hope the pony he’d been searching for: Screwball was lying belly down, back legs stretched out behind her, chin resting on one fore hoof while the other doodled on a piece of paper.

Screwball was lying on a room sized piece of red carpet, while everywhere else was the harsh, cold stone. Dustpan saw the bed she’d first fallen asleep in, a cupboard with foal like pictures of ponies and scenes from Canterlot adorning them. He saw a little chest carved with dancing draconequui adorning it.

The final furnishing was a dresser, with a heart shaped mirror backing it, Dustpan saw even more pictures: foal drawings of a pony that looked very much like himself, blue cap and all, surrounded by little hearts and his own leaped. She does like me!

Dustpan accelerated, his vision narrowing to the young mare who he realised he didn’t want to be without, “Screwy I’m...”

The crack of thunder drowned out Dustpan’s shout and he was hurled back as suddenly the towering form of Discord appeared in a whirlwind of strange colours and noises, “I can live with all that, but what I will not have is my little Screwball falling in love with a garbage pony: A boring earth pony who has the dullest job I can think of. One who thinks that working hard and earning his way is the right thing to do.”

Discord’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but it shook the very ground that Dustpan had been flung onto by the enraged draconequus’ arrival, “I gave you money, I gave you what you seemed to want out of life, I fixed it so that you never had to see Screwball again, but would you stay away? No of course not!”

Discord was massive, far larger than Dustpan had ever seen him and he towered over the recumbent pony like an angry god of ancient myth. His eyes, two burning coals of darkness easily the size of Celestia, regarded Dustpan with bottomless anger, “What do you have to say for yourself little pony? Will you tempt my anger again?”

Dustpan trembled; he was rightly terrified, but a fire of his own had been lit within him. The fact that Screwball was being denied him because Discord thought he wasn’t good enough was like a raging inferno in his heart. He loved Screwball, Dustpan knew that now. All her little odd ways, all the crazy things she did and even how she scared him at times. Dustpan loved it all and would not back down until he knew if she really felt the same way about him.

Still shaking, Dustpan forced his trembling legs to make him stand before he stared into Discord’s burning eyes. It was the hardest thing Dustpan had ever done, meeting the gaze of those two gateways into utter darkness. The words were forming in his mouth and before he could stop them they escaped into the world, “I love Screwball Discord, and if you truly love her too then you will let her be free to choose for herself.”

It wasn’t a shout, it wasn’t a resounding call, it wasn’t even a raised voice, but it carried all the power of a meteor strike and for a moment even the towering form of Discord full of anger swayed at the force of that statement.

Discord seemed to consider that challenge for what felt like an eternity to Dustpan. The massive head of Discord turned slowly about to study the blissfully unaware Screwball who still doodled peacefully, before swinging around to regard the trembling Dustpan.

In a voice that cracked the world with its quiet threat Discord gave his reply, “No little pony, I think not.” Before Dustpan could move a muscle Discord snapped his fingers and the world went mad.

Dustpan floated in the bluish/purple liquid, not sure which way was up or down. It wasn’t a bad feeling of weightlessness once he overcame the terror of being submerged in what tasted suspiciously like plum jam.

He had tried to hold his breath for the first minute or so, but eventually his lungs screamed for air and the desperate stallion sucked in a huge breath of the syrupy mixture. To Dustpan’s utter astonishment he didn’t choke but felt the rich mass fill his lungs with a flavour of crisp grass-scented hills.

Flailing his hooves about himself Dustpan managed to spin around to survey his new situation. There was a pale glow that seemed to have no discernible source: Bouncing off the dancing bubbles which flowed in every direction amongst the other floating detritus within the suspension.

Dustpan looked about with his sun-yellow eyes to see he was not alone in this strange place: Off to one side he saw a grandfather clock drifting serenely, while just ‘above’ his head Dustpan was sure he recognised the huge form of a stone lion statue; caught in mid pounce making steady progress away from the bemused stallion. These were only a tiny fraction of the junk floating all around Dustpan and he couldn’t see an end to the vista before him in any direction.

A waft of movement caused Dustpan’s pink died mane to sweep around and enmesh his muzzle with its untidy strands, feeling like a giant jelly fish was slowly smothering him. Frantically Dustpan cleared his view with a grey hoof and was greeted by the slowly spinning eyes of Screwball regarding him with playful amusement.

Okay I know I’ve seen this before, Dustpan thought even as he tried to remember how he’d gotten here. He slowly spun himself around with determined thrusts of his hooves so that Dustpan was eye to eye with Screwball, “Screwy, are you alright?”

“Of course Dusty, I’m fine, you however have really made a mess of things again,” Screwball commented with a sad grin.

Dustpan floated in the strange fluid as he tried to understand what Screwball was getting at, “I came to rescue you Screwy, what’s wrong with that?”

Screwball winked at the him with twitching eyeball before her muzzle broke into a lopsided grin and Dustpan felt the strange sense of familiarity flow through him. “Oh Dusty, now we will have to hide here for a few years, pop out before we left and then you can meet ‘father’ all over again huh? I think that will be fabulous the third time around and maybe you can finally get on his good side this time?”

Dustpan shook his head, Okay now I know I have done this before, he peered at Screwball with suspicion, “Third time Screwy?”

Screwball giggled as her propeller hat spun lazily, causing further ripples in the sticky material surrounding the pair, “Oh Dusty you’re so silly sometimes, but at least you’re finally catching on to how things work here. Yes the third time, I promised I’d make things up to you and I still plan to, but you’re making it so difficult you know.”

Dustpan glanced around; his suspicions growing further, “All the while helping me get the girl of my dreams huh?”

“Glad we got that point sorted,” Screwball commented in an off hoof way before the strange light all around them dimmed and Dustpan felt another stirring in the ‘air’ as something brushed past his back legs.

Dustpan felt the fear rising in his chest, “No, no, don’t tell me ‘razor clams’ right?”

Screwball followed Dustpan’s worried gaze and released another giggle which trembled the liquid into strange patterns, “Yep, father’s razor clams; they must have smelt us and are looking for food.”

“So you brought me here rather than Discord?” Dustpan asked, ignoring the gathering swarm of bladed creatures circling them.

Dustpan saw the clams clearly this time and was oddly unafraid of those spikes and blades sticking out at dangerous angles. The small balls of quickly spinning barbed wire were becoming more agitated by the moment; their forms spinning faster and faster even as they crept closer to the pair of ponies.

Screwball hugged her tangled tail and spun lazily in the ‘air’ before Dustpan, “Of course Dusty, I couldn’t have father banishing you to Tartarus as a squeaky toy now could I.”

Dustpan conceded the point, “Well no, but call me crazy; being eaten alive by razor clams doesn’t sound much better Screwy.”

She giggled, stopping her lazy spin and finishing upside down before Dustpan with a joyful sparkle in her swirling eyes, “Oh Dustpan I would love to call you crazy, you certainly look the part now.”

Dustpan nodded, “Well that’s true I guess, but the clams?”

Screwball laughed again and removed the brown paper bag from behind Dustpan’s ear, “Clever Pinkie Pie, always thinking ahead that one,” Before Dustpan could ask further Screwball tore open the paper and released a cloud of potatoes into the ‘water’.

The razor clams dived in, their true target now revealed and busied themselves in peeling the root vegetables with every sign of enjoyment. “Told you it began with a ‘P’, and you thought it was ponies,” Screwball giggled and she shook her head in disappointment.

Dustpan watched as the clams finished their work, leaving the slowly spinning potatoes shorn of their skins and sliced into thousands of different party shapes, stars, balloons and little draconequui. He felt the relief welling up inside himself and laughed out loud alongside Screwball as the shoal of clams buzzed off into the distance.

The moment passed and Dustpan looked Screwball deeply in the eyes, noting that she really was very pretty, especially when her mane flowed and danced that way in the jam, but beyond that, it was her playful and innocent soul that drew Dustpan in. Under all that eccentric exterior, Dustpan knew Screwball to be kind, thoughtful and highly intelligent He wondered how he could not have seen these things sooner.

“Screwball I love you, you’re amazing and funny and....” Dustpan began before she placed a hoof on his muzzle and winked playfully at him.

“Oh Dusty I know that already, you already told me twice before,” Screwball said in a knowing way before leaning forward and tilting her head.

Dustpan didn’t fight it and closed his eyes as Screwball’s lips met his. The world seemed to spin around him as they hugged each other tightly and all the worries of the world vanished in that brief moment before Screwball pulled back with a dreamy look in her swirling eyes.

“We still need to resolve things with your ‘father’ Screwy, he made it very clear that he wasn’t happy about all this,” Dustpan said in a dazed fashion.

Screwball only grinned wider as she stroked Dustpan’s mane affectionately, “We’ll talk with him Dusty, make him see sense.”

Dustpan laughed again, hugged Screwball tightly and to his joy she returned it with equal vigour, “So how are we going to do that Screwy?”

She winked at Dustpan mischievously, “Don’t worry Dusty I have a plan.”

Discord’s fury was a tangible force: The very air around him rippled with possibility as party squeakers, confetti and small wheels of cheese flashed into existence before transforming into bubbles and in one case a very confused rainbow racoon.

“Dustpan! I know you’re here somewhere, being made a chew toy is too good for you my colt!” Discord raged as he rent reality with every swipe of his claw. One moment the little pony who had caused so much trouble was before him and then in a flash Dustpan was gone.

Several rooms in Discord’s domain had already been ripped apart in his determined search of the realm to find Dustpan and banish him once and for all, “When I get my claws on you the ponies of Equestria will write stories of your suffering!”

Discord slowly demolished another banqueting hall, disassembling the furniture atom by atom before remaking them into every flavour of jellybean conceivable. The normally excited and happy staff of H.I.P were cowering from their patron’s anger: None of them had ever seen Discord this angry before.

Where was Screwball? She could normally be counted on to calm Discord if he ever got like this, but the young mare was nowhere to be found and this only seemed to increase Discord’s fury. He summoned a final blast of chaotic force that tore a rent in reality, boring a massive hole straight through the house before it finally shook the magical wards in place in Canterlot. His wrath spent, Discord sunk to the floor and to the amazement of everypony watching, began to weep.

“You can’t take her away from me Dustpan! I won’t let you!” Discord balled to the world at large and shook as sobbing overcame him; the tears rolling down his cheeks before shattering on the blasted ground as tiny alphabet crystals.

The staff and residents of H.I.P looked to one another all at a total loss. They had never seen Discord crying before and their already shaky grip on reality slipped further. Some of them laughed morbidly, others cried along with their doctor while many simply retreated into themselves until the whole strange event just went away.

As Discord wailed uncontrollably the sounds of determined hoof falls reverberated in the echoing hush that had fallen across Discord’s home. The residents looked up in hope as Screwball advanced along the path of devastation Discord had wrought, her tread definite and confident.

Discord’s miss matched ears pricked up as he heard the sound, before slowly raising his head and asked almost fearfully, “My dear little Screwy?”

Screwball advanced slowly, her expression as inscrutable as stone and Discord seemed to shrink beneath that swirling gaze, “Screwball you came back, I thought you had left me for that colt.”

She stepped up to Discord and watched her ‘father’ with an impassive stare that chilled him to the bone. After a long moment Screwball’s impassive face morphed until she studied Discord with a sad expression, “Daddy, father..” She began and fresh tears welled up in his eyes.

“Screwy listen I...” Discord began before Screwball pouted.

“No dad, for once you listen to me, You have been very naughty and I’m not impressed,” Screwball scolded and Discord flinched as if struck, “You have treated my friends terribly, Star Glancer is in hospital even as we speak and I have been forced to hide Dustpan from you again.”

The assembled crazies of H.I.P had never seen anything like this before as the ‘all powerful’ Discord sat there like a naughty child being reproved by its mother. He fidgeted and looked everywhere but straight at Screwball, “I did make sure she got to the hospital Screwy I....” Discord tried only for Screwball to snort angrily.

“Ah, ah, ah, no talking back dad; she would never have needed to do so if you hadn’t been such a big foal,” Screwball waved an admonishing hoof and to every pony’s surprise Discord whimpered like a puppy caught chewing the furniture.

“But I....” Discord tried again before Screwball folded her hooves in a no-nonsense manner.

“No dad, I don’t want to hear it, now this is how things are going to be: You are going to make a formal apology to Star Glancer, flowers and all, then we’re going to talk about Dustpan and your attempts to 'buy him off',” Screwball seemed tall and terrible, despite being a third Discord's size..

Discord opened his mouth before Screwball cocked an eyebrow at him and she simply said, “Hmmm?”

He closed it again and with a defeated sigh snapped his fingers, “Very well my dear, I have sent flowers, grapes and a very big sorry card to Star Glancer.”

Screwball nodded, “Very good, now about Dustpan.”

At the mention of his name Discord’s fire returned and he seemed to swell with power, “That pony is trying to take you away from me, I won’t...”

Screwball stamped an angry hoof and a flash of lightning lit the room for a moment, “Enough Dad! He is not trying to steal me away from you,” She took a calming breath before continuing on, “Father: I’m a big girl now, I need to start making my own decisions and I like Dustpan.”

Discord’s anger wasn’t spent however and he snarled, “But sweetie he’s just a refuse pony and not even that now, I will not have my daughter marry such a lowly...”

Screwball’s gaze could have melted reinforced steel, “Stop it Dad! You’re overreacting, are you worried he can’t provide for me is that it?” At Screwball’s words the room was suddenly swept up in a storm of raining bits, the gold coins tinkling and jangling all around; forming piles of glittering wealth that would make even Tip-bit salivate.

“Or is it that you think he will make me ‘normal’?” Discord was greeted by the unprecedented sight of Screwball removing her beloved propeller hat. The whole audience gasped as the swirling faded in Screwball’s eyes to be replaced by perfectly average brown pupils. Her mane and tail transformed into ordered black locks and her coat reformed into a chestnut hue.

Her point thoroughly made, Screwball became her old self again before replacing the cap which spun slowly on her head, “Or is it simply that you’re unhappy with the idea of an average pony with no amazing powers; who simply works hard and does his best to be a good, is beneath me?”

Discord starred at Screwball as if he’d never seen her before, his eyes wide with incomprehension and fear. She simply glared up at him and awaited his reply. After a moment of drawn out tension where Discord failed to give any explanation for his actions Screwball snorted.

“Now I know I’m still young and don’t know all that much of about life and such, but what I do know is how I feel, I love Dustpan dad; he’s kind, dedicated and came back for me despite all your attempts to prevent him,” Screwball said her voice heavy with determination, “He's just kept coming back, if that’s not enough to show you how much he cares then I give up on you.”

Screwball stared sadly at her father and uttered the words she’d been afraid of admitting for a long time, “I love you too Dad, but you can’t keep treating me like the little foal who came to you all those years ago. I have made my choice, I want to be with Dustpan and I want you to be a part of that too, but if you can’t get over your own prejudices, then I will leave you dad.

Discord writhed with indecision even as Screwball gave her ultimatum, “Don’t drive yourself away daddy. ”Screwball paused for a moment as she let this sink in, “Now I’m going to bring Dustpan here and you’re going to behave or I will never forgive you. Is that understood?”

Discord scrunched up his face in distaste, looking as if he was about to argue the point when he saw the determined look in Screwball’s eyes and bowed in defeat, “Very well my dear. I will try.”

Screwball smiled and galloped up to hug Discord tightly before the assembled ponies cheered, stomped and in one case barked loudly in approval; Discord smiled sheepishly before returning the embrace.

Screwball turned her head, looking back along the path of destruction before motioning for Dustpan to reveal himself. Gingerly Dustpan poked his still decorated muzzle around the edge the massive hole in the wall and slowly made his way towards the hugging pair.

The onlookers watched with baited breath as Dustpan approached and to their delight bowed, “Lord Discord, I humbly ask for permission to marry your daughter.”

There was a tense moment where Discord seemed to ripple with barely contained energy, before with a definite look from Screwball he nodded reluctantly. Rising to his hooves, Dustpan followed Screwball’s encouraging wave and joined in the group hug. If the cheers and celebrations were loud before, the roar that shook the room was deafening.

Dustpan, Screwball and Discord were soon buried under a tide of excited ponies; all honking, laughing and giggling madly. In the centre of it all Dustpan smiled at Screwball who lent forward and kissed him again. Time seemed to stand still for Dustpan and the cacophony of crazy sounds faded into the background.

“Screwy you know what, I think I could get used to this,” Dustpan said after they broke apart.

“Me too Dusty I...” Screwball began before the world exploded.

“Fear not loyal subjects your Princess is here to save you!” The bellowing call resounded throughout the halls of H.I.P and before Dustpan’s questing eyes could blink he felt himself pulled upwards. He desperately clung to Screwball’s hoof and the pair were pulled upwards to behold a scene of utter chaos:

Luna, glowing and terrible was hovering with steady beats of her wings, while all around members of the Night Guard poured in from every direction. Discord himself was now pinned against the far wall, cracks spreading out from his point of impact and blue a magical glow fastened about his neck.

“Discord you are hereby charged with Ponynapping, endangerment of royal agents and for violating your oath not to disturb the peace of Canterlot,” Luna announced with all the ferocity of a raging typhoon. Light crackled around her and thunder punctuated each word like the hammer of a titan.

Dustpan picked out the puffy face of Star Glancer looking up at him with triumph and it quickly dawned on Dustpan what must have happened, “Oh no Screwy it’s all....” he never got to finish his words as Screwball tilted his head round to meet her's and kissed him again before whispering:

“Just go with it Dusty, it'll be fine,” Dustpan smiled contentedly, shrugged and hugged Screwball tightly as the sounds of utter bedlam unfolded below them.

Epilogue.

Epilogue.

Dustpan watched as the staff of H.I.P and members of the Night Guard wrestled with each other: They weren’t so much fighting as enacting a game of hide and seek, where no pony was sure who was chasing who. The arrival of Luna and her soldiers had sent the ponies of H.I.P into a frenzy of action and all the while Discord was chased by Luna.

Discord hurled insults and the occasional vase at the princess as she perused the cackling beast through the ruins of H.I.P. Luna would send blasts of magic in return, further wrecking the already devastated building. It slowly dawned on Dustpan that both alicorn and draconequus seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.

“Discord dropped me right in the nurse’s lunch room, I can tell you the looks on their faces as I appeared out of thin air and crashed onto one of the tables; it was almost worth going through everything we did just for that!” Star Glancer chatted away, holding a mug of steaming coco.

She still looked a little red around the face, but that didn’t stop her from smiling widely at both Dustpan and Screwball as the three of them sat around the picnic table. It was one of the few pieces of furniture still intact as the ‘battle’ raged all around them.

“So they were able to treat your allergy then?” Dustpan asked as Screw Loose galloped past, beating a bat pony with a rubber chicken.

Star sipped her drink and savoured the flavour, “Yes Dusty; still a bit itch, but over all it could have been far worse.”

“I hope they didn’t have to stick you with anything, the idea of one of those big needles near me just brings me out in goose bumps,” Screwball shivered as she clung to Dustpan with a worried look in her eyes.

Star chuckled, “Sadly yes, but better than looking like a pony balloon,” She stated as more of the ceiling collapsed and turned into a flock of flying squirrels before soaring out of one of the abundant holes in the wall.

“What I don’t understand is why Luna and her guards are even here Star?” Dustpan asked as two soldiers threw a net over a mare wearing a judge’s outfit, who was doing her best to take down soldiers with custard pies.

Star’s face glowed with embarrassment, “Well you see once I was out of immediate danger I was put in the recovery ward and that’s where Luna found me.”

“That’s very farsighted of Luna, has she been dabbling in time magic again?” Screwball asked curiously as Discord and Luna completed another 'lap' of the manor.

“I don’t think so,” Star replied, “I had written her some letters about what was going on and I guess she finally found the time to come and see what all the fuss was about.”

Dustpan nodded before ducking a bag of flour which flew out from the scrum, “That seems reasonable I guess: So you told her to come and save the day?”

Star’s face became serious at this question, “Well actually no, she was halfway through asking me about the situation when the magical wards around H.I.P suddenly sounded a warning. Every unicorn in the city must have felt the power being thrown about it; made me shudder and I was the other side of Canterlot.”

Screwball smiled, “Yeah that was just daddy letting off some steam.”

“Well it certainly got Luna’s attention and without another word she galloped off to summon the guards,” Star Glancer explained.

“Hang on, if Luna left you at the hospital how come you’re here now?” Dustpan asked as Discord smashed a table over Luna’s head. She swayed before grinning and hurled an expensive looking armchair back at her attacker.

The gilded, red covered seat struck Discord’s body and threw him into an already weakened pillar which crumbled upon impact. This caused the mass of ponies all around to scatter in dismay. The three onlookers watched the battle continue to unfold for a moment before Star replied.

“Well I wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing while you had all the fun." She grinned, "Plus when a mountain of grapes erupted under my bed, being quickly followed big a giant card apologising for putting me in hospital nearly flattened me I thought it was a good idea to take more direct action,” Star laughed softly and was quickly joined by Screwball and Dustpan.

The conversation faltered as several members of the Night Guard galloped past being chased by Huge Jelly, riding a rolling jam jar the size of a cart, before Star smiled happily at the pair, “So you popped the question then?”

Dustpan stared into Screwballs slowly spinning swirls and nodded happily, “Yes and it was the best choice I ever made.” Screwball leaned in close and snuggled up against Dustpan’s shoulder, a contented smile across her muzzle.

“Well I’m all for whirlwind romances Dusty, when I met my special somepony it took us all of six weeks from first kiss to standing at the altar,” Star’s eyes took on a faraway look, “Those were the days, speaking of which have you two set a date?”

Dustpan’s muzzle creased, “You know Star I hadn’t thought that far ahead; what do you think Screwy?”

Screwball tapped her chin and the little propeller on her hat spun all the faster, “How about a week on Thursday?”

“You really think we can get everything ready in time? I have to speak to my folks, there are invitations and all sorts to do Screwy,” Dustpan said in a doubtful manner.

Screwball just giggled, “Not to worry Dusty, once dad’s finished having it out with Luna I’m sure he could sort everything out with a few snaps of his claws.” The sudden image of Discord giving away Screwball danced across Dustpan’s mind: That thought was a real wake up call, “Well I er....”

The awkward moment was interrupted as a pair of wrestling ponies careened into the table and knocked its contents flying. As cups plates and croissants filled the air Screwball tapped Dustpan’s nose playfully, “You just leave those little worries to old Screwball; don’t fret Dusty I have a plan.” She paused for a moment, “But I will need your input on what colour napkins, plus you will need to be measured for your suit, oh this is so exciting!”

Screwball rubbed her hooves together, “Plus I haven’t met your folks yet Dusty, that will have to be arranged.....”

The details washed over Dustpan: Star Glancer and Screwball chatting animatedly about bride’s maids, flower arrangements and a thousand other things that were needed. It was strange to see Screwball acting so ‘normal’ and the idea of having Discord as a kind of 'father in law' was still lurking dangerously at the back of his mind.

“.....Then we can put the dancing hippos here and the alligator pool over here....” Screwball continued as she quickly filled a piece of paper with crayon drawings and Dustpan felt much better, the world was making 'sense' again.

Many months later:

Dustpan wheeled his mop and bucket across the mismatched tiled floor and gave a contented sigh. Life was good; he had a new job, one that paid far better than his last one. Not that he did it for the money of course, he and Screwy had all the bits they could ever want. No he cleaned because he enjoyed doing it.

“Evening Screw Loose, had a good day?” Dustpan called as he saw the pony in question trot through the main doors to H.I.P. Upon hearing his call she glanced at Dustpan and barked cheerfully. Dustpan listened to the reply before nodding, “I see and then what did you do?”

Screw Loose yipped and barked her way through the responce and Dustpan smiled in a knowing way, “She’s fine as far as I aware, but I’ll be sure to let Screwy know you said so.” Screw Loose looked like she was going to say more, but evidently decided against it and pressed on, leaving Dustpan to his cleaning.

Today the floor was covered in what looked to be pizza mixed with roses, not the strangest thing Dustpan had cleared away, but no less rewarding as his regular strokes revealed the crazy patterns below. There was something immensely fulfilling about making things clean again that called to Dustpan’s soul.

Dustpan whistled to himself as he worked, a cheery tune he’d heard this morning while shopping with Screwball. Canterlot had never seemed so bright and alive before, the ponies all appeared happier, the sun brighter and the smells more vibrant than ever before.

The couple’s weekly visit to the market was more of an excuse to see the world outside than to gather supplies, Screwball had insisted that they keep doing things that ‘normal’ ponies do and every day she learned something that fascinated her. Dustpan was only too happy to comply, the way her face shone when she discovered a normal fact of life that he took for granted made Dustpan’s heart bounce with happiness.

It wasn’t all one way either, Screwball had been teaching him about the world behind H.I.P’s doors and so Dustpan had been taken on leisurely walks through fields of hose pipes, swam in lakes of syrup and climbed chocolate mountains: All the better to be spending time with his wife.

Since Dustpan had said the words “I do,” he had never looked back. Things had just gotten better and better as he and Screwball began to make their new lives together. Oh there had been a few tense moments and a couple of arguments, married life was an effort, but Dustpan had always believed that anything worth doing took effort.

“Hi ya Dusty, evening shift again?” Dustpan’s musings were interrupted by a pink blur that bounced happily along the now sparkling floor.

“Yeah Pinkie, how about you, Filling in for somepony again?” Dustpan asked politely.

To his surprise Pinkie shook her head, “Nope just visiting Screwy, she said she had something important to ask me.”

His interest peaked, Dustpan would have asked further, but before he got the chance Pinkie Pie bounced through a door and was gone. Shaking his head Dustpan went back to his mopping, there were still a large number of odd things he didn’t understand about this place and so one more mystery didn’t bother him all that much.

Dustpan had nearly finished the corridor when he encountered a spreading pool of jam, looking up Dustpan saw the smiling face of Huge Jelly beaming at him, “Hi Dusty, just wanted to pass on this congratulations card, it’s a bit late but I get there in the end.”

The slightly sticky envelope was thrust into Dustpan’s hooves and he grinned back at Huge with an appreciative smile, “Thanks, don’t worry about it being late, it’s the thought that counts.” Dustpan shook his head and chuckled: It had been several months since the happy day when he’d become part of the 'family' and cards and well wishes were still filtering in; time was subjective here so that didn’t surprise him.

What did seem strange was that Dustpan was pretty sure he’d already gotten a congratulations card from Huge; and Screw Loose seemed overly interested in Screwball’s health; It was a passing wonder and Dustpan shrugged it off as he began mopping up the mess left by Huge’s sticky hoof prints.

Whistling again, Dustpan uncovered the last of the floor and was about to ‘congratulate’ himself on a task well done when another voice called out to him, “Well colt, it seems I have gravely miss judged you.”

Dustpan looked around for the speaker before finally noticing Discord’s reflection in the now sparkling tiles below his hooves, “Oh hi Discord, I’m glad you think so.” Dustpan leant on his mop and smiled at his father in law.

“Indeed, I have to admit this parenting thing is full of surprises that I would have never expected,” Discord’s reflection studied his eagles claw in a thoughtful manner, “I was so afraid of losing her Dustpan, but Screwy is as happy as I have ever seen her.”

Dustpan smiled, hoping that he was finally getting back on good terms with Discord, “Well she’s a wonderful young mare ‘father’.” (Dustpan still couldn’t get his head around the idea of calling Discord ‘dad’)

Discord laughed, “That she is my colt, that she is.”

There was an awkward moment where neither father nor son in-law knew what to say, “Well I know you don’t like me Discord, but we both have the same goal of making Screwball happy right?” Dustpan suggested.

Discord nodded before flowing out of the floor so that he was standing before Dustpan, an intense expression in his eyes, “Indeed Dustpan, as I said before this parenting thing is still new to me even after all these years and to see my little Screwball growing up so fast....” Discord sighed, “I just got a little over protective I guess.”

He held out a claw and Dustpan shook it hesitantly, “We both did things that may be considered foolish Discord, but I guess it all works out alright in the end huh?”

Discord nodded solemnly before a grin spread across his face, “Well if you want any tips my colt then you only have to ask.”

Dustpan was taken aback, “What do you mean?”

Discord’s grin only widened, “Oh you will see,” and before Dustpan could enquire further Discord vanished in a flash.

The hairs on Dustpan’s neck began to creep upwards, something was definitely going on here. He reviewed what everyone had been saying to him today and felt his suspicions rise. Very slowly Dustpan took out the card from Huge Jelly and looked it over, it was congratulation for him getting married right?

With mounting fear and excitement in equal measure Dustpan carefully undid the jam-smeared envelope and gradually pulled out card within. He stood there for a moment, his face completely blank and he read the title. With exaggerated purpose Dustpan pulled open the happy card and studied the words within.

After another pause, Dustpan’s muzzle formed into a huge grin, almost as big as Discord’s had been before he tore off down the corridor. He was so excited that he dropped the card in his haste and the simple message fluttered to the ground to land open on the slightly damp tiles:

Dear Dustpan and Screwball, many heartfelt congratulations from all the staff here at H.I.P, may your filly or colt be beautiful and crazy enough to make us all proud!

The End.

Chapter Three.

Chapter Three.

Dustpan trotted unsteadily to his room, the whole day having been a massive shock to the system. After his little chat with Discord, Dustpan had been 'released' back into the normal world once again: The portal Discord had opened depositing the stallion back into the alleyway where he’d first met Screwball.

By the hands of the main clock tower Dustpan discovered he'd been gone for most of the night and that morning was only a few of hours away. He was shattered, confused and more than a little frightened by the events of today, yesterday Dustpan reminded himself.

Aching and looking forward to a warm comfy bed, he shuffled along the boarding house’ main corridor with weary steps. Each hoof fall caused the floor boards to creek and Dustpan winced at every sound. Maybe I’ll fall asleep and wake up tomorrow to find this was all just a very odd dream?

Dustpan was just thinking he’d made it back to his own door unnoticed when the entrance across the way opened and a stern looking mare raised a candle which wobbled slightly in her magical grip, “Who’s that trotting about at this hour?”

Dustpan smiled guiltily at Star Glancer before speaking in a quite tone, “Sorry Star, it’s just me.”

The old brown unicorn peered at Dustpan with suspicious eyes over her half moon spectacles, “It’s four in the morning colt, what makes you think you can be sneaking around at this hour? I won’t hold with it, not in my house.” The landmare had a night cap on which hid the tight bun she always wore her mane in.

Dustpan ran a hoof over his muzzle, how could he even begin to explain? “You see there was this mare and....”

Star Glancer snorted, “Young colts these days, carrying on with fillies until the small hours. What is the world coming to? You should know better than to keep a girl up this late, what would her parents think?”

Dustpan’s ear flattened with embarrassment as Glancer’s scolding washed over him, “Star it’s not like that at all I.....”

Star Glancer held up a hoof and turned her nose up at him, “Nope, I don’t want to hear it Dusty. We will have a serious talk about your behaviour tomorrow.”

Dustpan felt his shoulders droop, “Okay Star, I promise not to do it again.”

Star Glancer continued to scrutinise Dustpan for a moment longer before nodding slightly, “Mhmmm, alright then.”

The landmare's door closed and Dustpan gave a resigned sigh, just another problem to add to the growing pile. Fumbling for the lock in the renewed darkness Dustpan was able to open his door on the second try and stumbled into his apartment, his head hanging low before him.

His room was just as Dustpan had left it, and its welcoming familiarity brought some calm to his stormy world. Not bothering to turn the lights on he threw off his cap, not caring it missed the hook, before collapsing onto his bed. Lying on his back Dustpan stared at the plain ceiling and mulled over the day.

"Screwball is not my actual daughter you understand; orphaned when she was still very young, Screwball was brought to me having found it hard to settle into a number of foster homes," The melancholy voice of Discord drifted back to Dustpan as he lay there deep in thought.

"Where she got the idea that I was her father I don't really know, but right from the word go Screwball called me that," Dustpan smiled at this memory, Discord wore a uncertain look which was kind of sweet on his miss-matched face. “I have tried every method I know and a few I don’t to try to cure her, but Screwball is an oddity even in my strange world.”

Dustpan tossed and turned, his flank still sore from the rough treatment that day. The darkened room seemed suddenly oppressive as Dustpan recalled the parting words of Discord, “I’m sure you will be hearing from us again soon Dustpan, once Screwball gets an idea in her head it’s very hard to shake her from it.”

Dustpan screwed up his face and rubbed his eyes, he’d had quite enough of madness and odd things thank you very much. He yawned widely, glanced at the clock and sighed, five twenty seven. With another yawn and stretch of his fore legs Dustpan closed his eyes in resignation.

Tomorrow he needed to see if he still had a job and explain things to Star Glancer, neither prospect filled him with joy. If Dustpan was going to have any chance of salvaging this situation he was going to need at least some rest. Deciding that tomorrow could deal with itself Dustpan turned over and was soon snoring gently.

The light lancing through the window felt warm and refreshing on Dustpan’s muzzle. He shifted his shoulders as he basked in the pleasant feeling. His stirring mind held vague recollections about a crazy pony along with a cackling monster, but Dustpan forced these disturbing thoughts to the back of his brain.

He slowly tipped his head back and forth as he worked out the tension in his neck, pulling Clean Sweep’s cart had been a bigger strain on his frame than he originally thought. He’d have a word with Tip-bit about....... He winced as fresh memories drifted into his waking mind.

Dustpan had yelled at Tip-bit and stormed out of the yard hadn’t he? The pony’s face scrunched up in distaste. I’ll have to apologise to him, and probably beg for my job again. Dustpan wasn’t ready for that right now and so turned over in his bed once more.

Further recollections began forcing their way forward for Dustpan’s attention despite his best efforts to ignore them. The stern face of his landmare glared at him from last night and Dustpan groaned. No, today was not going to be fun.

Heaving a heavy eyelid open Dustpan looked to the clock once again: Quarter to ten: Maybe Star would still have some breakfast left over for him? Emitting a groan Dustpan rolled over as sleep drained from his body and felt something soft and warm brush his muzzle.

His curiosity peaked Dustpan opened his eyes again and was greeted by the fascinated face of Screwball staring right at him, her chin resting on his bed, he little propeller hat spinning lazily in the sunshine, “Oh hi Screwball...gyaaaa!”

Dustpan leapt up on the bed and pressed his back against the wall; Screwball was lying on the floor, her four legs tucked under her and the pony’s chin resting on the covers. Her intense eyes watched Dustpan with riveted attention.

“Morning sleepy head,” She said cheerfully as Dustpan held a hoof over his pounding heart, “I was afraid you’d sleep the whole day away.”

Screwball stood up and looked about the simple apartment with a critical eye, “You know this place could do with some livening up, it’s very drab.”

Dustpan just stared at Screwball in total astonishment, “What are you doing here?”

Screwball tilted her head, “Talking to you silly.” She placed both fore hooves on the bed and leaned right in close to Dustpan before her face took on a suspicious expression, “What are you doing here?”

Dustpan felt all the nervous terror of yesterday bubbling inside once more, Screwball was in his room, standing on his bed. A brief glance at the door showed it to still be locked and with rising panic he looked to the small window to see it was just a firmly secured.

“Ho...how did you get in here?” Dustpan finally asked, trying his best to press himself further into the wall behind him.

Screwball was now slowly trotting around the small space peering closely at everything, “Well that’s kind of a trade secret, if I told you who knows what you might take it into your head to do?” Screwball lifted Dustpan’s toothbrush with fascination, “Ooo-ooo; father told me about these, it’s a mane brush right?”

To Dustpan’s horror Screwball began twisting the brush through her tangled violet strands, before he leaped off the bed with a cry, “No! That’s not what it’s for!” He raced up to Screwball and attempted to yank the brush from her hooves.

“Hey I was only trying it out!” Screwball snapped back, grimly holding onto the tooth brush with the same deceptive strength she shown yesterday.

Dustpan wrestled with the mare while the brush was pulled back and forth, “It’s...for...cleaning....your.....teeth!”

Screwball’s eyes shone with comprehension, “Oh why didn’t you say so?” Without even pausing she pulled the brush free of Dustpan’s grip, letting the poor stallion fall to the floor and jammed the bristled end into her own mouth before scrubbing furiously.

Dustpan covered his face with his hooves and let out a garbled moan as Screwball worked the brush around her mouth and even along her tongue, “Vell, hat’s new...” She commented as Dustpan watched cringing.

Screwball finished her scrubbing before holding the implement out to Dustpan, “Okay so what else do you do in the mornings? A shower right?”

Dustpan felt a chill running down his spine as he took the abused tooth brush and held it away from himself gingerly, “You don’t normally take showers?”

Screwball’s face creased up in disgust, “Eww that’s gross Dusty, of course I do.” Screwball gave Dustpan a look of hurt indignation. “What do you take me for, some uncivilised diamond dog?”

He breathed a sigh of relief before Screwball continued on in a matter of fact manner, “But not normally in the morning, it’s terribly hard to get the jam out of my coat in time for the day’s duties.”

Dustpan blinked a few times before his brain caught up with what his ears had heard, “I....er....never mind.” He decided to try the first question again, “Why are you in my room Screwball?”

Screwball smiled happily at Dustpan, “I want to know what ponies do of course. This whole morning stuff and then afternoon followed by night, it sounds really interesting.”

Dustpan slowly sat up with a dawning look of dismay in his eyes, “You want to learn about a normal pony’s life?”

Screwball nodded so furiously that Dustpan feared her head would fly off, “I want to see how you live.”

The words bounced around in Dustpan’s head while he rubbed his temples with his hooves, “Wait, wait wait: You,” Dustpan pointed his hoof at Screwball, “Want to learn about how ponies live from me?” Dustpan pointed at his chest as his hopes that this was all just a bad dream evaporated.

Screwball absentmindedly picked up Dustpan’s soap from his shower stall and sniffed it, “Yep that’s the idea.” Dustpan shuddered as Screwball stuck out her tongue, licked the bar and to Dustpan’s turning stomach bit a chunk out of it.

He felt his guts tremble as Screwball chewed the soap with every sign of enjoyment. Swallowing hard Dustpan inquired further, “And Discord’s happy with this idea?” The last thing Dustpan needed right now was the 'ex-God of Chaos’ after his hide.

Screwball swallowed and Dustpan winced, “Oh I’m sure father will be fine with it Dusty, in fact I think he will suggest it soon.” She paused in thought, “Or did he already?” before shrugging.

Dustpan took a deep breath before continuing, “Okay, so I teach you about normal pony life and then you go back to your crazy world with Discord right?” A faint glimmer of hope could be seen at the end of the tunnel.

Screwball had discovered the bathroom’s toilet roll hook and was busily spinning the thin paper into a tangled heap on the floor, “I guess so, though I still need to make up for all the bad things I did to you.”

Dustpan felt another feeling of dread wash over him, “No, no that’s okay. You haven’t done most of the things you mentioned before. Maybe if you leave now they won’t happen at all?”

Screwball tilted her head in a way Dustpan was starting to recognise, “No.....That wouldn’t work at all, I still need to get the hang of this causality thing, speaking of which....”

To Dustpan’s shock Screwball left the bathroom at a dead gallop and cannoned straight for Dustpan. He didn’t have time to react at all before he was pinned to the floor by Screwball’s legs and her twitching eyes looked deeply into his own.

As if on cue Dustpan’s door rang to the sound of knocking and Star Glancer’s voice called in. “Dusty, I need to know if you want some food?” The lock rattled as Star turned the key and slowly pushed the door open.

Dustpan’s eyes grew wide as Screwball lent down and kissed him on the check just as the elderly unicorn’s smiling muzzled poked in, “I know I was a bit harsh with you last night and....”

Dustpan rolled his eyes and struggled to escape from Screwball’s grasp, but to no avail. Star simply stood in the doorway her mouth open and a look of shock plainly visible through her spectacles. Screwball nuzzled in close before stroking Dustpan’s mane with a hoof.

The trapped pony could see Star swelling with indignation and before he could explain she burst out in another angry torrent, “Mr Dustpan, it’s bad enough you choose to carry on until the early hours of the morning with your.....shenanigans: But you do not bring your shameful ways back to this boarding house do you hear me! This is a house of good standing and I will not tolerate such wanton behaviour under my roof!”

With snort the old pony backed out, taking the steaming plate of food with her, “I want you out of my house by the end of the week Mr Dustpan!”

He felt his heart sink as Screwball finally released her iron-hoof grip and smiled at him in a cheerful manner, “For example: How can I make up for you losing your home if you never lost it?”

Dustpan just laid there, his mouth hanging open and his mind reeling from what had just happened. After taking a few seconds to gather his thoughts he glared at Screwball, “Now look what you’ve done!”

Screwball’s ears drooped and her lip trembled in confusion as Dustpan got to his hooves and fixed her with a furious expression, “Enough! I’m not playing anymore; Screwball you are too much and I want you out of my room, out of my time and out of my life!”

The trembling lip only increased and Screwball’s eyes filled with tears before a little sniffle escaped her, “But I thought you were my friend?”

Dustpan’s face didn’t soften, “Friends do not lose their friends their jobs. Friends don’t get their friends bucked out of their homes Screwball!”

Screwball seemed to shrink as she leaned back from Dustpan’s tirade, a look of utter confusion in her streaming eyes, “I just wanted to.....”

Dustpan cut her off, “No Screwball, find some other sap to be crazy at.” He pointed a trembling hoof at the door, “Go.”

Screwball gave Dustpan another pleading look, tears running down her cheeks before she bolted for the door. She didn’t even try to open it and before Dustpan could stop her she ran head first into the wood before sitting down heavily holding her head.

The boiling anger in Dustpan’s heart cooled a little as the poor mare stared back him in confusion and stammered, “Wha....it didn’t work?”

Dustpan felt wretched as Screwball frantically felt around the door and its frame, pushing at the solid wood as if it should yield to her touch. The problem dawned on Dustpan as more tears fell from Screwball’s eyes: She’s not used to the normal world and it’s laws you stupid colt. She didn't even think to open the door. With scared eyes Screwball looked back to Dustpan who felt very small as he watched her struggle. She looked so timid and afraid and even though Dustpan was angry with her, he wasn’t made of stone.

Trotting forward slowly he turned the handle, opened the door before pointing into the corridor, “I’m sorry Screwball but I’m not the pony to help you, please...just....just go.”

Screwball bolted for the exit, wailing the whole time and Dustpan caught the disapproving gaze of Star Glancer watching the interchange with a grim face. He sighed before following Screwball, feeling the piercing glare of his landmare's disappointment all the way.

As he caught up with Screwball, Dustpan found her struggling with the next door. Without saying anything he opened the door out into the street and with a grieved face watched Screwball gallop into the busy street, knocking into other ponies in her effort to get away.

Slowly Dustpan trudged back up the stairs to his room, past the slowly shaking head of Star Glancer and back into his quarters. Finally he was rid of the crazy mare who’d been nothing but trouble since he’d first met her and now he could start putting his life back together again.

He leaned down and straightened his bed linen before reaching down and picking up the discarded tooth brush. Dustpan stared at it for a long time before placing it back on the shelf with the half eaten soap and scrunched up his muzzle.

She was only exploring a strange new world, did you have been so harsh? Dustpan shook his head even as his heart crumpled: Screwball was a menace, who in one day had turned Dustpan’s life upside down and cost him so much. Then why was he feeling so sorry for her?

The tear stained face of the mare floated in Dustpan’s mind’s eye and he felt his chest tighten. He never wanted to see a pony cry, even if he felt justified in his actions. But I can’t be dealing with an insane filly, no matter how cute she acted.

Dustpan glanced around his simple room which suddenly felt very small and confining for some reason. The things that he’d been proud of earning from himself didn’t fill that space in his heart that they once did. Above all he felt rotten; he’d made an innocent (if demented) mare cry.

With another resigned sigh Dustpan finished arranging his room, collected his cap from the corner it had found its way to, left and shut his door behind him. Now who’s the crazy one huh? You’re really going after her?

Dustpan pulled his cap over his eyes as he passed the doors either side of the corridor which seemed to be condemning him as he went, before pulling open the front door and stepping out into the sunny Canterlot day.

To Dustpan’s astonishment the scene before him stretched but failed to admit him. Taking a few steps back, Dustpan poked a hoof forward and met with the same result. The image of the world outside the boarding house was just that, a picture.

He felt a presence behind himself and the suddenly all the shadows looked a lot more menacing, “It seems we need to have another talk colt.” Dustpan’s ears flattened as he heard the cold tones of Discord behind him. Trembling he slowly turned around and saw that the inside of the boarding house had vanished to be replaced by a very real cracked, landscape which leaked green a blue fire from deep crevasses.

Discord stood tall and imposing, all trace of the jovial humour of yesterday gone from his eyes, leaving only two burning coals of darkness in their place, “I see it’s time to lay down some rules for our ‘relationship’.”

Dustpan felt the cold hard rock below him shake with each carefully spoken word and terror gripped him as Discord seemed to grow until he towered over the frightened pony. Lighting flashed overhead as comets of fire spiralled down from the heavens and Dustpan curled up into a shaking ball.

“Even though I gave up the whole 'Lord of Chaos' gig years ago, I still have the power to turn you into a rubber chicken to be used by the hounds of Tartarus as a chew toy for the rest of eternity,” Discord’s voice wasn’t raised, but it still caused the ground to judder and small rocks to bounce.

Dustpan covered his eyes with his hooves as Discord continued, “I felt it was important to remind you of this fact before we go any further Dustpan. Think on this the next time you talk to Screwball hmmm?”

Dustpan braved a peek at Discord, who to his relief had returned to his normal size and was floating with his arms folded across his chest. The burning darkness had gone from his pupils, though the stern glare remained, “Now I understand that Screwball can be a bit of hoof full at times, she takes after me you see, but I will not have her first proper experience of the outside world in over ten years be tanited badly by you.”

Dustpan swallowed as the boarding house began to fade back into to focus, the burning desolation vanishing once more to be replaced with solid floorboards and white walls. Discord still floated in the air before him however and waved an admonishing finger, “I don’t want to have this talk again Dustpan, and I would ask you nicely that you would take care of my little Screwball as she experiences the world.”

Dustpan gulped, “Um I don’t have any choice in this do I?”

Discord cackled as he spun loops in the air, “Oh there’s always a choice, you just have to live with the consequences.” His lion’s paw made a crushing gesture and out of nowhere the sound of s squeaky toy resounded around the hallway ominously.

Dustpan smiled grimly as Discord’s meaning came across loud and clear, “Well I...er best get to it then right?”

Discord simply grinned in reply and Dustpan opened the front door again, this time the real world of ponies going about their day greeted him. He cast a single glance back to see Discord had vanished with only the echoing sounds of his laughter lingering behind him before he trotted out to find Screwball.

Quiet fell upon the hallway once again for only a brief while before Star Glancer peeked her nose out of her door. She smelled the air before glanced this way and that. She peered over the rims of her half moon spectacles before shaking her head sadly, “Oh Dusty, what have you gotten yourself mixed up in?”

The elderly pony returned to her room, sat at her writing desk and began to pen a letter to an old friend of hers at the castle. Star knew there were some ponies who would be very interested to know of what had just happened in her boarding house today.

Dear Princess Luna,

Despite my best efforts to stay out of trouble it seems to have come knocking at my door regardless. I regret to inform you that He is up to his old tricks again. Though I don’t think it’s going to be like last time, I thought it best to inform you that.....