Chapter 1: Wherein the Duo is Formed
At long last, the sun was setting and the day was drawing to a well-deserved end. The inhabitants of Trottingham had spread out from the park as the festival finished, the occasional subtle gust of wind through the leaves rustling the ponies a playful, tired goodnight. The mareigolds were giving off the kind of faint glow that freshly blossomed magical flowers radiate. Just about every town in Equestria has its exclusive winter-ending tradition, and Trottingham’s is The Raising of The Mareigolds – the entire townsfolk gathers to watch the unicorn populace give a solid magic nudge that makes the town’s unique flowers bloom. Once the ritual is complete, the festivities commence.
By now, the festivities were done, and the park was pretty close to deserted as the tired ponies went off to get some rest, led out of the maze of a park by the warmly shining flowers. Looking closely, one could spot a pair of earth ponies still traversing the pathways – the cream mare was visibly taken with the charm of the plants, occasionally throwing an uncomfortable glance over her shoulder at the blue colt keeping her company. He wasn’t making things any easier, that’s for sure – his nerves were visible miles away, the overcautious demeanor capable of petrifying even the most easygoing of ponies. The awkward duet shuffled onward, attempting to admire the intricate floral patterns, but one could cut the tension with a knife. Eventually, the colt managed to gather all the courage he could muster and blurt out, “They really outdid themselves this year, eh?”
“Yes, they’re exquisite,” came the reply, blurted out just a tad too quickly. The colt could tell that this wasn’t going as well as planned – he was hoping for a romantic walk in this heartwarming scenery, perhaps finally managing to break the ice that he’d been trying to get rid of for so long. Instead, he got the usual – a rigid stroll with over-the-shoulder glances when she thought he wasn’t looking. She apparently did not want him around, no matter what the backdrop was, but was just too tactful and gentle to tell him to buzz off, snuffing out his hopes once and for all. The extra nudge of true floral beauty, the thing she was truly passionate about, didn’t work its magic. As such, no extra small talk was going to change a thing.
The blue pony let his head drop a little as he dug his hoof into the ground. It was pointless. “So, uh, it’s getting late, and I’ve got to open the shop in the morning. Goodnight, Rose. The walk was a pleasure,” he strung together, raising his gaze in her direction. Immediately, he noticed some of her unease evaporating as she turned towards him and bid him farewell with an attempt at a polite smile. Like a fish let off the hook, he thought to himself as she headed towards the path out of the park. And then, before he could control himself, he burst out, “Could I walk you home, by chance?”
“No thank you, Johnny. Goodnight,” came Rose’s firm reply. The colt didn’t expect any different. Why did he even bother blurting that out? It’s not like the walk in the park was some planned date, he just randomly bumped into her as the festivities were drawing to a close, and she mustered a tentative “I guess,” when confronted with his spontaneous idea. Random, spontaneous, yeah right. He came here in order to meet her. And, as he watched her feminine form get stiffly swallowed up by the night’s setting darkness, he realized that there would be no more meetings. It was time to let go. If she couldn’t open herself out when placed in a habitat so natural for her, with no other ponies interfering, it just meant that she simply was not interested.
By her standards, not letting him walk her home was a very vibrant cry to be left alone. And who was he to object? Johnny let a solitary tear escape his eye and fall to the ground as he considered what to do. There was no point going to get anything to eat, he was still filled up on the pear cobbler served at the festival. The pub was out of the question, as cider would not make it any better, plus today was Mike’s turn at the mic, and the guy’s depressive, bleak tunes had the potential to make the happiest pony in Equestria cry rivers. Guess it really was time to call it a night. The colt dejectedly took the appropriate path and mechanically headed towards his house, his bed.
“Perhaps I just wanted it too much,” he sighed under his breath as he passed the park gate, leaving the glowing mareigolds behind. There was some truth to those words, as Rose showed up just as Johnny started entering one of his deepest crises regarding his overall life situation - his screw cutie mark dictating a dead-end carpentry job he could barely keep up with, a solitary, pedestrian life in a vibrant, magical land. Sure, there’s no denying that she was the type of mare he would have fallen for regardless the circumstances, but maybe he was grasping at straws to try and pull himself out of the pit. As such, his feelings for her could just be exaggerated in an attempt to escape his grim everyday reality. “Stop it!” he suddenly burst out at himself, sending a surprised bird cawing out of the tree it picked for shelter. That was uncalled for, the shout, he thought to himself as he hung his head low and sped up his step a little. Not like anybody could hear him thinking anyway, and there are more civil ways of eradicating depressive thoughts than shouting at oneself. No lights turned on in the surrounding houses, fortunately, so it appeared that the bird was the only victim of his outburst. In his haste to get away, Johnny failed to look up in time and made abrupt, resounding contact with a lantern. “Ah, fudge!” he exclaimed quietly, trying to rub his head. This was definitely not his day, that was for sure. This time there were no birds taking off into the dark night sky, just a quiet yowl in the bushes. Out of cautiousness, he did not get any closer.
Whatever the nature of his feelings for Rose, this was not the time to go into them further. He needed to get home without further distractions. The colt focused on the road and set off alertly, avoiding engaging in a mental dialogue or smashing into random objects. The task may have seemed easy at first, but then a certain wooziness started creeping in, like it would when he’d think for very long without contact with the real world. He tried to shake it off, but it was pretty reluctant to leave. “I’m sure I’ll sleep it off by the morning, just nerves probably,” he muttered to himself as he finally made it to the front door of his house. It swung in easily, with the comforting creak he was used to, and within moments he was under his blanket, his alarm clock beside the bed like always. The sadness of the day would get eaten up by his mind-numbing routine soon enough, he realized as he shed a final tear onto his pillow and beckoned his spinning mind to let him sleep…
Yowl.
The noise punctured the night’s silence and drilled into Johnny’s head, pushing the much desired sleep out of him. Why did the darned animal have to set up camp by his window and pour its soul out right at this instant? The pony turned away from the source of the sound and pulled the blanket over his head, intent on muting out the intruder and finally drifting off.
Yowl.
Yowl.
Yowl.
The concerto just kept going, smashing past the blanket’s thin barrier and swiftly passing the colt’s resolve to ignore it, poring into his brain time and time again. It’s not like the calling was having any effect, the night was perfectly still apart from this dubious display. And then Johnny recalled the noise that came from the bushes when he banged his head on the lamppost on the way home.
That thing followed him home.
Any semblance of wooziness and the will to sleep were gone in an instant as he started analyzing his options. The situation wasn’t critical, as anything that would be dangerous would have probably inflicted its damage right then and there, thus sparing itself the journey and effort of constant calling. Still, if the thing wanted to meet him so bad, it wouldn’t hurt to give it a cursory glance through the window. Cautiously, of course – that noise didn’t remind him of anything that he’d ever encountered, and running out to hug an animal that he couldn’t classify as harmless wasn’t exactly the brightest thing that one could do in this situation. Johnny made his way to the window and pored over the windowsill just enough to see…
…a dragon? Ducking for cover, the pony recapped what he saw. Well, that was one sloppy dragon, that was for sure. The kind of creature one would expect a distinctly un-gifted foal to draw – eight disproportionately tiny legs and a joke of a pair of wings, and a face that could smash open bunkers with its undeniable stupidity. It almost certainly wasn’t a threat – any self-respecting dragon would have eaten him by now, possibly also destroying the town in the process. No matter how hard he tried, no potential explanation for this oddity’s presence showed up in his mind… still, it was making a racket, and he needed some sleep before work. The decision was made.
A quick scan of his surroundings landed on a rake. Yeah, that would have to do. That would be something to tell his grandchildren one day, that he chased off a dragon with a rake. He could handily omit the bit of info that the dragon was an embarrassment to nature, and he’d probably bait a couple of young faces glowing with admiration. And then they’d have pie. Or cobbler. Yeah, cobbler preferably, good old pear cobbler. And the light would bounce off the plates in that fun, playful manner that makes it feel like the world is being joyful with you, and the foals would go upstairs, and he’d relax in his rocking chair, watching the rollicking flames lick the logs in the chimney, and unless he was mistaken there was a task in need of attention, and he was drifting off into one of those thought bouts again. He quickly shook it out of his head, snatched the rake, and bravely opened the back door.
“Hey, you!” he beckoned, and the creature reared its head with another one of those all-too-familiar yowls. “Yeah, you! Get off my lawn! I’m trying to sleep here!” he kept going, heroically waving his rake at the invader. The reaction wasn’t what he hoped for, though – the dragon spotted the tool, its eyes lit up, and it launched forward him with a cheerful “Yay”. Before he could react, there was an ominous crunch and the beast had half of his rake inside its mouth, chewing happily. Calling that unexpected was an understatement. As such, he made a hasty decision – before the dragon could realize that he was just as edible as the rake, he quickly retreated and slammed the door behind him.
The dragon immediately snapped out of its happy chewing and raced for the door with a wail. “No, you has THUD to come out THUD Crackle look THUD for you THUD for so long THUD,” came a pieced together statement, interrupted by the occasional headbutt to the door. The colt’s stomach sank and he tried to come up with a way out of this mess as the door barely held onto its hinges and random household items started shifting around. Before Johnny could decide what to do, the door finally gave way and the dragon was free to do whatever it wanted to do with him…
The colt’s life flashed by his eyes, and none of it was good. His uneventful childhood, years of mediocre carpentry in an attempt to live up to his cutie mark, and the futile pursuit of Rose’s affection seemed so little and worthless now, with the dragon about to… hug him? The creature bust through what once used to be a door (widening the hole in the process) and came crashing down on top of him in jubilation, triumphantly exclaiming “Crackle happy!” for the world to hear. Johnny got the wind knocked out of him, and it took a while for his agonized wheezing to reach the ears of the celebrating dragon. Upon realizing that it was crushing the pony to death, it got up immediately and stared happily as the colt attempted to regain his composure.
Once the shaking in his legs finally subsided, and his mind regained some coolness, the pony warily looked at the beaming dragon and inquired “So, who are you?” much to the creature’s delight. “Me Crackle. Crackle am best dragon. Crackle can has rest of rake?” came the obliging reply, coupled with a request to eat a tool. Considering the dragon’s prior actions, Johnny wasn’t surprised, so he just tossed the remnants of what used to be a rake at Crackle, who happily opened his/her/its mouth and devoured it happily. He waited for the dragon to finish up the meal with a huge gulp, and inquired further “Of all ponies, why me?”
“Simple! You hit lamp! Then you give Crackle rake! It all make sense! Crackle found you!” Crackle started bouncing up and down, knocking over virtually everything that wasn’t bolted down to the floor. Johnny caught himself thinking of how long this would take to clean up – apparently this situation wasn’t getting to him as much as he expected it to. Needless to say, in spite of reassurance of the contrary, what the dragon was saying was not making any sense. As if reading his mind… a wing was thrust in his face. What.
“This my wing. Pull it,” the creature beamed. The colt considered his options. The odds of the dragon exploding weren’t that high, but how likely was it for him to find this thing lurking in his backyard in the first place? The creature was sucking up all of the world’s logic with that ridiculous smile and cross-eyed stare of derailing. Johnny decided that Crackle probably knew what it was doing, in some weird way, and he was much too small and insignificant to object. Plus, he was only asked to pull on the drake’s wing. Thus, he complied.
The wing responded like a rusty lever and Crackle’s mouth snapped open, pouring out a slightly shaky stream of light accompanied by the distinct sound of old movie reels rolling. The image, cast on a now-bare wall of Johnny’s room, appeared to be Crackle sitting in a meadow, sporting a mildly goofy tophat and devoid of the grin that had a hard time leaving the drake’s face ever since encountering Johnny. The recording was visibly dated, as further evidenced by the warm, throbbing analog sound of the muzak in the background, far removed from anything modern day ponies could encounter. “This thing on?” the dragon inquired uncertainly, greeted by a sigh and “Yep, it’s rolling,” from behind the camera. The recorded Crackle quickly cleared his/her/its throat and began speaking. “Good day, kind filly or gentlecolt. As you are currently watching this feature, you have been deemed as the appropriate pony for the task at hand, which I shall deal with shortly,” Crackle’s recorded self was quite eloquent, forming sentences abiding conventional grammar and articulating them in a fluent manner quite unlike the drake’s normal, disjointed yapping. “First though, you must be asking yourself why you are the pony of choice. It’s quite simple really. As the codex says,” the recorded Crackle produced a set of crumpled pages that looked like a heavily worn children’s activity book bordering on the surreal, proceeding to thumb through it looking for the appropriate excerpt, “the proper pony for the job shall manifest oneself by smashing into a lamp while I’m in the bushes, and then respond to my calling by giving me a rake to eat. I like rakes. Also, who would walk out to a dragon with a rake? That shows that you’re obviously an outside the box thinker, and as such you’ll be adequate to help me on my quest.” At that point, Crackle the movie projector gave a happy chuckle and little bounce.
“What is the quest in question? I can’t just tell you that right now. Crackle, take out the Mystical Pickle!” the on-screen version commanded its present day counterpart. The dragon promptly pulled out a faintly glowing, bluish pickle and looked at it for a few seconds. Johnny just cast a sideways glance. Guess the fact that no howling sirens were coming out of the pickle meant everything is good. As if to verify, the on-screen Crackle asked “So, uh, are we in the clear to continue?” greeted with an off-camera “But he can’t hear you.” Johnny made a mental note of the dragon’s gender as Crackle the present version subtly nodded and uttered out a “Yeh, ehryhing ih fine” without moving his projector mouth. “Jolly good then, jolly good,” the cinematic Crackle smiled, “Told you it would work.” The off-screen creature could only muster a sigh, apparently his level of comprehension of Crackle’s ridiculous antics was similar to what Johnny was capable of. By now, the pony was pretty sure nothing would surprise him anymore. “So, without further ado – the quest at hand!” the narrative snapped back into place, “If you paid attention at school, then you must be aware of a certain Discord, a malevolent spirit of chaos who governed Equestria a couple of millennia ago. Then Celestia and Luna came, the Elements of Harmony, yadda yadda, he’s a stone now, congratulations. However, there’s a problem, as the malicious brand of chaos isn’t fully eradicated from the land. It is still exemplified by a second, lesser creature, known as Kraakers. For years, everything was fine – Kraakers is much weaker than Discord, and as such didn’t pose any real threat to Equestria while the Elements of Harmony were at full power. However, since then, Luna got banished to the moon, and Celestia had to take control of all the Elements, not doing as great a job as she’d like. Hey, look at me,” Crackle the movie version pointed at himself with a smirk, “if Equestria would be so chaos-free, would I exist? I don’t think so. I am no threat to the well-being of this land, though, as I embody the other kind of chaos, the friendly, fun kind. Putting aside the dwellings on my nature, Kraakers is pretty feeble, but his very presence is perpetually undermining the very fabric of Equestria, and if he isn’t stopped, he could lead to Discord’s return. Even though I’m 30% chaos, I wouldn’t want that. As you’re 0.17% chaos, I guess you don’t want that either.” Johnny nodded, agreeing. “Neither would just about anypony around. As you offered me a rake after smashing into a lamp, you are a good candidate to stop Kraakers, cooperating with me. So, what do you say to that?”
Johnny realized he was actually expected to answer that query. Somehow, in a self-defense mechanism against all the bizarreness that was attacking from all angles, he shut off his thought processes almost entirely and just took it all in. That was kind of unusual, as he was renowned for getting lost in his thoughts all too often. Now, the gears in his head were slowly grinding again, processing it all. A dragon, claiming to be 30% chaos, followed him home, ate his rake, and then played a fourth-wall-shattering movie from its mouth implying that he’s supposed to go and join him on a quest to get rid of some sort of Discord wannabe named Kraakers. On the other hand, his current static option was a disheartening job and a self-imposed letdown of a romantic situation. Perhaps getting away for a while would make it easier to forget about Rose? Nothing like a crazy bender to break up the monotony. Expecting a candid camera to pop up any second, Johnny uttered “I’m in.”
None of that happened. Instead, Crackle the movie projector squealed happily, intent on not messing up the picture. Crackle the movie version took the news with a calm, collected smile. “Jolly good. I knew you’d be interested. Welcome aboard.” A hefty paw pat almost knocked him into the ground again. “As you’re part of the team now, there’s a couple of regulations for you to follow. There’s exactly two of them, in fact. Get out a piece of paper, you want this in writing as this is your new codex.” Johnny obliged, whilst Crackle the movie version opened up the crumpled papers from earlier.
“First, the pony goes in the barrel. Second, you can’t read. Verbatim, both. Got it?” Johnny nodded once he stifled the thought processes that were rebelling against the nonsense. “Good. With that, this feature may conclude. You can turn it off now.” The camera operator’s anguished moan got cut by the movie ending. Contrary to what the colt expected, the real Crackle didn’t start bouncing up and down with joy, instead just sitting there with an oblivious expression on his face. “So, uh, we leave in the morning?” Johnny inquired. “Good idea. Crackle crash on your couch then,” Crackle approved, before turning a perfectly fine piece of furniture into a heap of firewood and splinters with a sleeping dragon on top. The colt headed back to his bed, somewhat more rickety and off-position compared to where it was before the entire incident. Snuggling under his blanket, he attempted to make sense of what just happened, but failed miserably. At least the yowling was dealt with, so he could finally get some shuteye…
The sun rose over Trottingham, basking the buildings in a warm, comfortable light that could easily revitalize even the most cranky ponies. The weather was absolutely perfect, as a remnant of the previous day’s spring welcoming festivities. Equines slowly poured out of their houses and started going about their businesses – tempting smells were wafting out to the street from the bakery, somepony was off to get a new quill, and a slightly scruffy earth pony was whistling a merry tune whilst sweeping up some wrappers the wind blew away from the trash can. Johnny opened his eyes. Celestia, what a weird dream. He stretched lazily, thinking how his co-workers would react to such a hilarious tale about a…
…dragon. The very same dragon that was now sleeping on what appeared to have once been his couch. So it wasn’t a dream. That would have been even harder to explain, had he been actually given the opportunity to share it with others. Alas, it wasn’t to be, as Crackle somehow sensed that the pony woke up and rose as well. “Um, hi,” the house owner attempted to strike up a chat. “Hi. We go?” the dragon cut to the chase. “Yeah, why not,” the colt stated indifferently, making his way to the door. “Wait, we no go. You need barrel. You has barrel?” Crackle caught Johnny a bit off guard with that revelation. Oh yeah, the movie gave him two ridiculous regulations to live by from now on, but he was hoping that they were just some sort of hoax never to be brought up again. Apparently, it wasn’t to be that way. “Yeah, I’ll try to find one, give me a few.”
Johnny passed through the gaping hole that used to be the back door to his house, hoping that the ancient barrel that he once used to collect rain water was still standing somewhere in his garden. True, it’s been a while, and he couldn’t remember whether the old thing was still around, but it was worth a shot. Much better than asking any of his neighbors or acquaintances anyway. He had a little chuckle, trying to envision anypony’s reaction to an inquiry along the lines of “Hi, could I borrow a barrel from you, probably indefinitely? For you see, this weird dragon came to my place yesterday, ate my rake, and he won’t let me embark on an epic quest to destroy some chaotic being named Kraakers until I find a barrel and place myself in it.” However, nopony would be troubled, as the barrel was lurking behind Johnny’s failed attempt at Rose’s field of interest (in other words – a dried up rosebush). After much dried twig snapping, the barrel was extracted. The colt detached the lid, looked inside, opted to try it on for size…
Moments later, a weird dragon was bolting down Trottingham’s main street, ridden by a blue earth pony, bottom half encapsulated in an old barrel. The colt noticed the well-deserved stares, and attempted to calm his fellows. “Fear not, ponies, for I am Screw Loose, Adventure Pony, and I am setting out on a quest to rid this land of chaos!” didn’t appear to do the trick, possibly because of the dragon’s gleeful addition of “Crackle am turtle! Oink! Oink!”
Screw Loose shrugged. The mission at hand was much more important than obtaining the sympathy of his compatriots. He didn’t even notice when Crackle zipped right past Rose’s stand. The florist stared agape at the pony whose name was Johnny, mane flapping wildly in the wind, a psychedelic gleam in his eye. Once the unlikely rider was gone and the mareigolds stopped shaking, a magenta pony tentatively walked up to the stand. “He’s lost it,” she commented. “Yep,” came Rose’s elaborate reply, “What do I do now?” “Well, I guess we could leave town, you never know what he may bring back. It’s not safe to be here,” her friend proposed. “That’s a good idea. Pack your bags, Daisy, we’re leaving for Ponyville in an hour.”
Screw Loose was completely unperturbed by this turn of events regarding his sweetheart – he stretched out his arms triumphantly, absorbing his newfound freedom and sense of purpose, before bellowing, “To Canterlot!”
Chapter 2: An Audience with the Princess
“Why Canterlot?” Crackle couldn’t help his curiosity, rearing his head by 180 degrees (with an obnoxious scratch-your-hoof-on-the-chalkboard screech) whilst in full throttle. This resulted in the galloping dragon narrowly missing a very sturdy oak on the side of the road – two feet to the right, and a doubtlessly painful crash would have occurred. “Crackle, would you be so considerate and keep your eye on the road when going at this velocity? Considering the task at hand, we’d both better prevent any potential injuries,” Screw Loose scolded his minion mount, “I shall answer your inquiry, though, fear not.” Satisfied with a promise of an explanation, the dragon promptly focused on the road again, letting the pony in the barrel breathe a sigh of relief and stop nervously scouting his surroundings for objects his inattentive companion could run headfirst into. However, it would be some time before he got fully used to that dreadful sound of the dragon’s head turning at unnatural angles.
The colt cleared his throat and began, “For you see, Crackle, the reasoning is trivial. Princess Celestia, the sole wielder of the Elements of Harmony, resides in Canterlot. As you told me yourself, her grip on them may be weakening, perhaps in part to Kraakers’s doing, but that doesn’t change the fact that she still remains the most powerful equine in the land and is definitely on our side of the conflict. After all, she participated in turning Discord to stone! I am not undermining your competence, my faithful associate, as you appear to know a lot when it comes to this subject matter, but I am led to believe that she may possess some information that you have not come across yet. And if she turns out to be completely green, then at least we’ll alert her of the danger and appropriate security measures will be taken.”
“That all make sense, but there am one thing Crackle am worried about,” the dragon uncertainly mumbled. “Out with it, my companion!” Screw Loose was pretty sure that this meant some information Crackle forgot to share. “Crackle and Screw am look funny,” came the embarrassed reply. Oh, this tiny inconvenience. “Fear not, Crackle, for we bring very valid information, and the Princess is sure to take us seriously, regardless of how silly our appearance may be.” In fact, assuming that there was a grain of truth in those old ponies’ tales, there was a pretty good chance of them getting taken seriously. Take that ridiculous Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant, which was hammered into his head over and over again by an ever-rotating, charmingly incompetent local cast each year –the earth pony leader had a bowl of pudding on her head and could think inside a chimney, yet still she was treated as an equal when the debate took place. He had a barrel concealing his lower half instead of a bowl of pudding on his head, but he had a dragon minion as well to work the odds in his favor. Fine, the dragon wasn’t exactly normal, but that’s still better than no dragon at all.
With that, Screw Loose allowed himself to stop thinking inside the barrel, or altogether in fact. It was a beautiful day, the breeze sweeping around him because of their speedy movement, and the sun was shining in his face, making him feel alive and truly happy for the first time in years. He still had no idea how the dragon found him, but ever since he placed himself in that barrel, everything felt natural and logical as he was freed from his old limitations. He allowed himself to recline with a sigh of delight, soaking up the atmosphere.
After some blissful rest, which helped Screw Loose regain some of the sleep he lost thanks to last night’s antics, a thought hatched in the back of his mind – in spite of knowing that he was out to get Kraakers, and that he was about to converse with Princess Celestia, he didn’t actually know who or what Kraakers may be. A minor oversight that could be of tremendous significance to the mission. It was imperative that he find out the nature of his newly discovered nemesis! Since Crackle was the one to bring Kraakers up in the first place, he was sure to have some information.
“Crackle…” Screw Loose began. “Yes?” the dragon reared his head once more, killing off a few more of the pony’s brain cells. He flinched, but continued, “Crackle, you never told me about Kraakers. I know that we’re supposed to gun Kraakers down, but that’s about it. Do you know anything else?” “Yes, Crackle know. Crackle was am not able to show you before, for there am no Skit Tree where you live. But there am Skit Tree twenty yards ahead, Crackle plant it himself when Crackle was little dragon. You want?” “I do believe so, yes. Plus, we’ve been at it for hours, you deserve a rest,” Screw Loose didn’t question Crackle’s methods. The dragon slowed down, shifting his head once more (much to the colt’s dismay) in order to locate… a perfectly ordinary tree that did not differ at all from the ones surrounding it. The pair ground to a halt in its vicinity, and Screw Loose hopped off the dragon’s back. “We move close,” Crackle instructed. The pony leapt forward a little, with Crackle following suit.
“Whee, that am was fun!” the dragon yapped enthusiastically while Screw Loose picked himself up, all the animals bolted and the surrounding plant life gradually stopped shaking. “Hiya, Skit Tree,” Crackle greeted the tree. “Hello,” the tree greeted Crackle, “who’s your friend?” “That Screw Loose, Adventure Pony! He am help Crackle find Kraakers!” the dragon beamed, showcasing his new companion. “Oh, would you look at that, old sport, apparently the whole ‘pony goes in the barrel’ thing did turn out to be true! Well, congratulations to you! Would you want some celebratory crumpets?” the tree levitated a platter of steaming hot crumpets from between its leafy branches, tempting its visitors. Screw Loose and Crackle both dug in eagerly, realizing just how hungry they were. “Mmm, Mr. Tree, those are simply exquisite. You have to give me the recipe!” the pony managed to utter between mouthfuls. “Oh, I am so flattered you are enjoying them! Of course, here you go,” a rolled up scroll promptly floated towards the pony, who accepted it with a curt nod and stashed it in his barrel for later. Once the platter got cleaned up, Crackle smacked his lips and addressed the Skit Tree, “Skit Tree, we am off to find Kraakers. But Screw no am know how Kraakers was made. Can you show?” “Of course, that’s what I’m here for, no?” the Skit Tree replied, dropping the break.
The Tale of Kraakers
Act One
Wherein the Foundation for Kraakers is Laid
Silence. An empty sea, with wood instead of water, a decent amount of smoke is hovering in the air.
[Nothing happens for a few minutes, then a petite ship enters from house left. It’s a perfectly normal ship, except it’s made from Styrofoam, it has wheels, and the chimney is sucking up smoke instead of blowing it out. ROY and PODGE, two visibly chaos-addled ponies, are crammed on the tiny deck. The deck also features a plastic garden table, a tennis racket and a stuffed llama. PODGE is wearing a flower pot for a hat. Both ROY and PODGE twitch occasionally, ROY scratches his back often. Their dialogue feels painfully stagnant and lifeless.]
ROY: Hello. My name is Roy.
PODGE: I live in a giant sea urchin.
ROY: Hello. My name is Roy and I like your hat.
PODGE: It is not a hat.
ROY. Oh. Take it off then, I want to dance with it.
PODGE: No. It is glued to my head.
[Silence.]
PODGE: The weather is nice.
ROY: Yes.
PODGE: Hello. My name is Podge.
ROY: Yes.
PODGE: Yes.
[Silence. ROY looks up-stage, at the wooden sea.]
ROY: Oh look. Badgers.
[There are no badgers.]
PODGE: Oh no I am morbidly afraid of badgers. I have to run and hide.
[Stays in place.]
ROY: The badgers are cute. They’re painting flowers. Give them your crackers, they are so cute.
PODGE: That is the best idea I ever heard.
[PODGE lifts the flower pot, revealing an unopened, neon-orange pack of crackers on his head. PODGE moves his head over the side of the ship, letting the pack of crackers fall off. The pack of crackers lands on the wood with a dull, quiet sound.]
ROY: Hooray.
PODGE: Hooray. Cobbler.
ROY: Cobbler.
PODGE: Cobbler cobbler cobbler cobbler.
ROY: Cobbler cobbler cobbler cobbler.
PODGE: Cobbler cobbler cobbler cobbler.
ROY: Cobbler cobbler stop.
[Silence for about a minute.]
PODGE: Cobbler.
[Silence.]
PODGE: I once saw a lamp, you know.
ROY: Oh? Do go on.
PODGE: It was very mean. It stepped on my hoof and cut ahead of me in line.
ROY: What a mean lamp.
PODGE: Yes.
ROY: Hello. My name is Roy. Yes.
PODE: Yes.
ROY: Cobbler.
PODGE [visibly irritated]: No!
[ROY smacks his head on the table. PODGE finally recalls the flower pot in his hoof and puts it back on.]
PODGE: I live in a giant sea urchin.
ROY: Yes.
[Silence. The ship gradually exits to house right. The wooden sea remains empty, the sky’s clear now, the abandoned pack of crackers sitting motionlessly in the middle of it all.]
CURTAIN
“That was beautiful, Skit Tree,” Screw Loose praised the show after another break dropped them back into the story. “Thank you. I know,” the tree was taken with the pony’s compliment. “Still, that doesn’t fully answer my inquiry – what did this have to do with Kraakers?” the colt couldn’t make much sense of the situation. “This am Kraakers. The pack of crackers am Kraakers now. He just am became bad chaos later,” Crackle hurried to the rescue. That still didn’t quite satisfy the pony’s desire for knowledge, “But how?” “That Crackle am not know. Crackle am ordered Acts Two & Three by mail order, but Skit Tree am eat mailbox and Acts Two & Three am never came,” the dragon shot a mildly angered look at the tree, which responded with a prompt “I’m sorry, I thought it was a sign post. You know how I love sign posts, don’t you?” “Crackle know, Crackle know, Crackle no am mad. You no have eyes after all,” Screw Loose’s companion let go of any lingering grumpiness and patted the tree on the bark.
So, to recap – Kraakers is a neon-orange pack of crackers possessed by some sort of evil chaos spirit, and is probably quite weak. Still, his presence is somehow undermining Equestria, and he needs to be dealt with. The pony smirked – at least the likelihood of having to deal with an agile, deadly monster was pretty low. Cracker packets aren’t particularly vicious or shape-shifting. There was no information on how he came to be, but there must be some sort of generalized procedure for all sorts of wicked chaos creatures that Princess Celestia would pass on to them… oh yeah, Princess Celestia.
“It’s been great hanging out with you, Skit Tree, your skits are great and you sure know how to whip up some mean crumpets, but we really should get going if we want to see the Princess today. It’s still a pretty long way to go, and we’d rather get there at a reasonable time,” the pony started getting ready to leave, with Crackle soon following his lead. “Oh, you’re off to Canterlot? I could easily teleport you there,” came the tree’s calm reply. “Oh, how?” the duo’s eyes sparked up with interest. “Well, you know, it’s boring, being a Skit Tree among all those other trees that aren’t Skit Trees. So I secretly turned each and every single one of them into a Skit Tree, and it’s much cooler now,” the tree replied smugly, much to Crackle’s delight, who immediately hugged it with a cry of “Skit Tree, you so smart, Crackle am so proud of you!” The tree blushed (as much as a tree can blush) before explaining, “Well, they’re all kind of lesser Skit Trees, I’m not powerful enough to create ones as strong as me. But they have some rudimentary foundations, and I can flit between them if I get bored. So, you want to get to Canterlot? I’ll take you in here with a new skit, and deposit you by one of Canterlot’s trees, cutting your journey short. Sounds like a plan?” “Oh yes, yes it does! That’s a great idea, Skit Tree!” Screw Loose was ecstatic, “Actually, the idea is so good… would it be a huge bother to ask you to do this more often? This would be a very convenient method of travel, teleportation. It could speed up our quest of finding Kraakers drastically.” The tree nodded (as much as a tree can nod) vigorously, “I would love to help, as tracking him down is very important, and it will let me have visitors and we can have crumpets more often!” “Hooray, crumpets!” Crackle was jubilant, “Skit Tree, Screw Loose, you so smart, this am will work so good! And crumpets!” “I’ve got many a culinary treat in store, fear not. And if you want to call me, just put your hoof or paw on the trunk and I’ll pop up in the correct tree. Cool, no?” Skit Tree solved another potential technical difficulty before it even came up in conversation. “Yeah, that’s amazing! Thanks so much, Skit Tree! Now, off to Canterlot with a skit!” Screw Loose raised his arms victoriously before the impending break.
A, B. B is not wearing sandals.
A: I am so glad that we are such good friends because you are wearing sandals.
B: But I am not wearing sandals.
A: What?! [double-checks] How could you do this to me?!
CURTAIN
It was a peaceful day in Canterlot Castle… like any day, in fact. Equestria was far removed from turmoil, the last of it occurring hundreds of years ago when Luna went berserk. Since then, the occasional minor brush-off with untamed nature happened, usually around the rims of the land, but those were all minor crises never requiring anything more than a small, qualified group of experts to solve. And none of those events ever perturbed the capital, which lulled itself into its unique, tranquil pace. Time seemed to flow slower there, detached from the rest of Equestria. Even the colossal, busy trade district felt relaxed, the haggling sluggish, civil and cultured. Still, Canterlot Castle was easily the most tranquil part of the town, and Princess Celestia appreciated it very much. It made it easier to live with the responsibility resting on her shoulders, letting her effortlessly keep a calm mind no matter what the magnitude of the situation may be. It did get pretty lonesome sometimes, but that would not be an issue much longer – only a few more years and she’d be reunited with her sister. She lasted so long already, the finishing stretch was nothing…
The alicorn looked down from her balcony at the reflecting armor of her guards below. Occasionally she wondered whether maintaining a royal guard of such size even made sense – as mentioned, Equestria was pretty much peaceful by default, and a fraction of the current ponypower would easily suffice. Still, there were a few families that have been responsible for guarding the Princess for more generations than one could think possible, and the Princess appreciated the value of tradition and didn’t want to shatter an age-old order on what felt like a whim in comparison to their honor and history. It was actually inspiring, how in spite of what felt like eternal peace each and every single one of the guards was meticulously trained to deal with a variety of critical situations, ready to fend off intruders, prepare evacuations and sacrifice their own lives for the Princess if needed. Equestria evolved, but this tradition remained intact, ready to protect its ruler in case of unexpected emergency. But what sort of unexpected emergency could happen?
And then, as if on command, a dopey dragon with a blue colt appeared out of nowhere right next to the tree closest to the balcony where the Princess was reclining. Celestia immediately cursed her wandering thoughts as the guards, spears drawn, surrounded the sudden appearance, but the duo didn’t even notice them yet. The dragon was virtually bawling with laughter, and had trouble keeping his balance, what resulted in the pony quickly toppling over to the right and hitting the ground with an unexpected, wooden thud. “Oh my, can you believe it? Sandals! He am say sandals!” the drake was literally rolling on the ground guffawing like mad. One of the guards, his armor a bit more pompous and shinier than that of the others, quietly mumbled “…sandals?” in surprise. “You heard the captain! Sandals! Move it, go, go, go!” one of the less impressively clad ponies immediately aimed his spear and rocketed towards the creature. The captain’s futile cry of “No, Alert Watch, no!” came too late, as the spear tore a hole in the dragon’s minuscule wing. The resulting shriek of pain scared the ponies a few steps back.
“Alert Watch, you bozo, ‘sandals’ was the code word for full-on attack last week! This week it’s ‘razzle dazzle’! Plus, didn’t you see I was just shocked by what this… thing… was saying? There was no need to use force, at least not yet! I was definitely not calling for it!” the captain was angrily scolding the overzealous guard, who hung his head in shame. “Yeah, guys, we’re not going to do anything to you. We come in peace!” a muffled voice tried to make itself heard over the dragon’s agony. The guards weren’t fully buying it, judging by the fact their spears were still raised. “I am Screw Loose, Adventure Pony!” “And me am Crackle!” said the dragon, immediately replacing its pained wailing with a careless grin, the spear still hanging from the busted wing. This was quickly cracking the top five weirdest things to ever happen in the castle, but the odds of it surpassing The Tapioca Incident were still pretty low, the Princess thought to herself as she curiously, yet cautiously overlooked the situation from her elevated viewpoint.
“Hear me out, fair guards! We come in a matter of utmost importance!” the pony who dubbed himself Screw Loose continued, managing to get up beside the dragon. “There exists a chaotic menace by the name of Kraakers, and his very existence is jeopardizing Equestria as we know it! It is imperative that we get to speak with the Princess, for she may be able to help us on our quest to destroy this anomaly!” Celestia racked her brains as Crackle nodded vigorously below. The name Kraakers was familiar, where has she heard it before…
Oh buck. Even if the unlikely duo below was just a pair of clowns, they still had to be treated seriously on the off-chance that they possessed actual, relevant information. Could this really be…?
“Put down your weapons, my loyal guards,” Celestia applied a smidgen of her old Royal Canterlot Voice in order to get everybody’s attention efficiently. Immediately, Screw Loose and Crackle glued their eyes on her, as did some of the less experienced recruits. That worked pretty well. “I believe the motivation of these visitors, and wish to speak with them in my chambers. Captain, assemble a small group of your finest ponies to assist me. Everypony else, return to your designated watch positions,” the Princess gave out some brief orders, and the captain was joined by two experienced-looking guards whilst the others dissipated, and the elite headed towards the staircase leading to the Princess’s chambers. The captain followed, but not before laying a proper smack on the head of Alert Watch. Not entirely undeserved, Celestia thought to herself. After all, he did end up wounding this innocent creature, which may just be the bearer of very, very important news.
“Uh, Princess Celestia?” Screw Loose called from below, “Where are your chambers exactly? The guard ponies kind of didn’t wait for us, and we’d rather not get lost…” “They’re right in here, behind my back,” the Princess answered. “Can we just fly up? It would be great if Crackle could participate too, he knows quite a bit about Kraakers.” “Uh, I guess so,” a quizzical expression threatened to overtake Celestia’s royal demeanor, but she managed to remain regal. That is, until the dragon’s injured wing fell off, and two seconds later a brand new one grew in its place. The alicorn didn’t manage to stifle the puzzled look that immediately crept on her face – this creature alone was trying really hard to be more bizarre than The Tapioca Incident, and that was with leaving his barrel-clad companion out of the equation. However, being a Princess called for royal manners, and she regained her composure before the duo landed on her balcony. She led the way, joining the guards in her chambers. Crackle promptly walked in behind her and settled in a corner, whilst the pony hopped along.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Each of Screw Loose’s jumps resounded with a cavernous echo, not letting the barrel’s contact with the royal marble floor fade into oblivion without some further resonance. The sound was far removed from endearing, and Princess Celestia really wanted it gone… aha, and she could get rid of it whilst appearing hospitable! “Fair adventurer, would you like some assistance?” the alicorn inquired, hopefully as calmly as she’d hoped. “Oh, yes please! Do you have a duck?” Screw Loose’s mouth twisted into an inspired grin. Celestia cast a subtle, inquiring glance at her head guardsman, who just shrugged. “Of course,” the Princess focused her magic for a brief moment, and a duck was teleported into Screw Loose’s vicinity with a faint pop, “here you go.” The pony wasted no time, pulling out some string and a skateboard from the depths of his barrel. He promptly placed the duck on the skateboard and then tied the resulting hybrid to a loose bit of the upper hoop. “Thank you, Princess. Go boy, go,” the ushered duck started rolling forward, pulling Screw Loose towards the alicorn. Contrary to what one may have expected, there was no foul screeching against the stone floor, just the mute clatter of the skateboard’s wheels. The Princess’s poker face stayed firmly in place.
“So, fair adventurers, what exactly brings you to Canterlot?” Celestia inquired once the duck finally hauled the barrel to its target destination. “As I’ve told you out in the courtyard, we’re on the hunt for Kraakers. All we know about Kraakers is that he’s a possessed pack of crackers, neon-orange if it may be of any sort of relevance, which was planted somewhere in the sea during a period of rock-solid chaos, Discord’s heyday most likely. The first act wasn’t that informative. Anyway, somewhere between there and now, Kraakers turned from an inanimate object into a malevolent chaos being, and we need to stop him as I gave Crackle my rake,” Screw Loose blurted out whilst putting the duck-skateboard contraption away, and Crackle nodded at the appropriate moment. The dragon was by no means bored – he pulled what looked like a giant wool coat hanger from under his wing and continued knitting it, getting some well-deserved confused glances from the guards. “The very fact that Kraakers exists appears to be leaking the bad kind of chaos into Equestria, weakening the fabric of reality you set in place by sealing Discord in stone, and the ultimate chaos overlord’s return is becoming more and more likely with each passing day. As such, we are seeking your assistance – whilst we doubt that you need to dust off the Elements of Harmony for this particular mission, as Kraakers is quite feeble, we would appreciate any sort of guidance you may give us, as well as any possible back story you may possess on Kraakers or any other chaos beings.”
“Well, I won’t lie, adventurer, the news you bring are quite disturbing. I have only heard of Kraakers being mentioned in some not-widely circulated ponies’ tales from the Phillydelphia area, and whilst he appeared potentially chaotic, the scarceness of the fables and his portrayal within made me neglect him, writing him off as a creation of somepony’s imagination. After all, the storytellers of Phillydelphia are the ones who came up with the bipedal, hoof-free, mane-less creations known as… drat, what were they called… ‘hoomins’? Something like that. However, as you come to me with such information, I guess he may exist after all. Don’t worry, though – according to the ponies’ tales, he’s pretty much harmless, so once you find him, destroying him will be easy enough.” The Princess’s gaze became considerably sadder and more worried, “The issue of Discord’s potential return is much more threatening though. As you know very well, I’m the current sole wielder of the Elements, and it’s not quite the same without Luna. It will probably never be the same, even once Luna returns. And it took every ounce of the Elements’ true power to lock Discord away in the first place,” Celestia’s explanation got interrupted with a concise “Crackle am knew that!” courtesy of the dragon, who was beaming with delight. Spotting the guards’ gazes, Crackle cleared his throat and assumed his eloquent manner (as displayed in the introductory movie Screw Loose was subjected to), attempting to kickstart the conversation with “Good day, kind gentlecolts. Do any of you by chance like animals?” “So, as you knew, this implies that shall Discord return, we are – to put it bluntly – screwed,” Celestia couldn’t stop her front hoof nervously scratching the floor. The potential return of chaos’s grand overlord was definitely not a laughing matter.
“If I may interject, Your Highness, I would like to propose a potential scholar to consult on the subject matter. I have a good friend, a learned pony, we met one day when he was studying the ancient runes carved into the wall of the cave I was using as my bachelor pad at the time. Not the best place I ever lived in – pretty far from anything worth noting, and the rent was outrageous. We kept in touch since then, and he got his PhD in the Elements of Harmony, so I guess he knows what’s up. True, a mere PhD doesn’t exactly make him the number one go-to choice for reconnaissance, but it should be noted that he’s in touch with the more bizarre side of reality and may be able to grant some answers that conventional scholars wouldn’t be able to produce. He taught me how to feel Kraakers’s existence in the first place, so I guess he’s pretty potent when it comes to this subject matter. It’s not that I’m questioning the sources you have available, Your Majesty, but I’m pretty sure you already know just about everything a pony can know about the Elements as you created them in the first place,” Crackle, still in elaborate mode, brought yet another angle to the discussion. The Princess looked at him sternly, “That is true. I do possess all of ponydom’s knowledge concerning the Elements. However, as I am not able to feel Kraakers, your scholar friend may be able to assist us. Do you require any aid in getting to his location?” “No, Your Highness. The Skit Tree will be able to get us there without trouble – you saw us arrive in Canterlot, we can use this method of transport quite efficiently. Also, I would like to thank you, both on our and my friend’s behalf, for permitting us to aid you in a matter of such importance. Once we obtain his answers, we will be sure to relay them to you, and afterwards we shall set out on our quest to seek out Kraakers.”
“You are the ones who I should be thanking, adventurers. You brought up this information, and are doing everything within your power to solve both the problems that are in need of attention,” Celestia bowed her head in appreciation. “We’ll be sure to get in touch once we coax some information out of Crackle’s buddy. But we’ve really got to get going now, the matter is pretty urgent,” Screw Loose piped up. “Oh, but won’t you stay for a banquet? I could have the royal hall set up in half an hour…” “No thank you, Princess. The Skit Tree fed us with some really feisty crumpets. As such, we’ll be off now,” Crackle moved closer to the barrel-clad pony while he turned down the hospitable offer, letting Screw Loose hop onto his back before taking off. “Farewell, adventurers! Good luck on your quest!” the alicorn waved her hoof as the pair landed next to the very tree they appeared by, exchanged some hushed phrases and vanished.
“Uh, Your Highness, what do you make of it?” the captain broke the awkward silence that ensued. “Well, I’m not sure, but very perspective of it being possible is quite horrifying. We are in no state to fend off Discord. Fortunately, there’s a spell I can perform that will inform me of the state of chaos in Equestria… I have to admit it was quite careless of me to not use it to routinely monitor chaos levels over the years. It’s a very long and complex ritual, please make sure that I am not disturbed.” The guards nodded in unison. “I shall notify you of the obtained results once the procedure is complete.”
The three armor-clad ponies left the Princess among her impressive private library and the most exquisite magic ingredients known to ponydom, guarding the entrance to her chambers and granting her the privacy and concentration she needed. In spite of the emergency, Celestia did not neglect her basic responsibilities – the sun gave way to the moon, and then the day took over once more. The crack between the door and the floor revealed bombastic flashes and showers of sparks, apparently determining the chaos level of the entirety of Equestria was a very daunting task. Eventually, a hushed creak of the door revealed the Princess’s face, her eyes sunken and filled with fear, and the guards didn’t need to ask about the outcome…
