Ponyville: The Next Generations

Chapters

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five

Chapter One

Ponyville:

The Next Generations

Chapter One

Spring was on the horizon for Ponyville. Winter was approaching its end, soon to be marked by the annual and traditional 'Winter Wrap-Up' and the sun was once again shining brightly across the land…well, as much as it could through the thick clouds and smog that were forming a thin grey blanket over the city.

The vile stuff was being churned out by the continuously passing trains travelling to, from and through the town along the several new lines of tracks that came together like one big artery. That and from the towering chimneys of the dozens of factories that were popping up around the area like mushrooms. In fact, it was not just the sky that appeared to be affected; the greenery of the landscape surrounding the town had turned a slightly paler shade of green and the air, once you really took notice, was starting to become…bitter, especially as you trotted deeper into town.

For those of you who cannot take the hint, perhaps a bit of backstory is in order. Ponyville had, during this period of history, become a benefiter, or from a different point of view, a victim of what historians dubbed 'The Great Gallop Forward' The town was now booming, in one sense or another, with new buildings that seemed to grow only taller with every new one built; new businesses that brought plenty of jobs for ponies and new faces and a result of both. These were accompanied by the introduction of newer machines in vaster quantities, the farming sector being one of the hardest hit – give it a few years, they said, and the old ways of farming would be made almost, if not entirely obsolete. Of course, not everypony was at ease with all this, many of whom you would find amongst the inner circles of ponies who had lived in Ponyville, a breed that was troublingly only becoming rarer as this rate of growth continued. If you could a moment to talk with them, preferably at the nearest café, they would often lament how the town they called home now looked little to nothing like they remembered it year ago. And yet – wouldn't you believe it – those were pretty much the least of Ponyville's problems. I haven't even begun to talk about the ga—oh, no wait, let's not spoil everything. That will be enough backstory for now; we'll have more in due time.

Here we present to you a tale, well, no, not a tale, rather a peculiar anecdote of a mother and her daughter, encompassed by the stories of a dozen other ponies and the chaotic madness unfurling around all of them. It has its high points and low points, but in the end, what resulted was the two becoming close…well, closer. It's not a soap opera, but it's not a sitcom either. It's…it's an odd serious of events, let's just put it like that. The stage is set, let's begin…

"Mooom! I don't wanna go!"

"You're going whether you wanna or not!"

Rainbow Dash then squinched her eyes and rubbed her pounding head. She was still feeling the hangover from the other night and her daughter's whining did not make it any better. It was not just her head; her legs and joints were throbbing and the weight from her bouncing, dangling stomach only put more strain on her back.

Both ponies were walking down a newly constructed sidewalk, one walking a bit more odd than the other, heading in the direction out of town where the greenery had not entirely been spoiled. Rainbow Dash would have preferred going down the main dirt road next to them or even simply flying, but there were only so many compromises she could get out of her daughter. As they passed the walls of the old and new buildings, they seldom took notice of their 'decorations': a couple of posters brightly beaming in red, white and purple 'Vote Sparkle'; graffiti tags that read the likes of 'SNAILS WAS HERE', 'COBBLETROT TERRITORY' and in bright blue 'THE BRAINIAC IS WATCHING YOU' and plenty of advertisements, including one for discount pedicures at Aloe and Lotus' spa and ladies night at the Bloody Hooves nightclub.

Crash! Smash! To their left, they saw a small but rowdy group of male ponies, colts nearing adulthood and a couple of griffins and diamond dogs and one Changeling hanging out on the street. Most of them were sitting down on the edge, dressed in open button shirts and a cider in hoof, talons or paw and listening to a small black portable radio, one of the many gifts of the Great Gallop Forward. They had been listening to the Wonderbolt Derby and obviously their favourite or better yet, betted on racer had not come first. A violent argument was now taking place because some ponies were not willing to hoof over their bits. Neither of the ponies watching this from across the street seemed concerned about this. Instead, they shrugged it off as a common day occurrence and continued on their way, until something else distracted the younger of the two.

"Huh?" The filly's gaze fell on a certain scrawl of writing on a wall and she stopped and asked her mother way too loudly for the latter's preference, "Hey, Mom, you know what this one means? 'For a good time, call-Gah! Hey!" Her blushing mother yanked her by the collar and dragged her off down the sidewalk in midsentence.

It was the same thing every time they passed by the buildings and the advertisements. "Mom, what's the pony in that picture wearing? It looks like she's wearing a fishing net", "Mom, can I get my muzzle pierced? All the other fillies are getting them done and it says they only cost ten bits a piece", and the best and grudgingly funniest yet, "Wow, that pony on the poll looks a lot like Mrs Rarity." A lot of the time, Rainbow Dash could have sworn she knew what she was talking about and only blurting these things out for the sole purpose of embarrassing her.

"I'll tell you in ten years, honey," she muttered and let go of the collar. They got back on their course. "Now enough getting side-tracked, kiddo, I wanna get there today."

"But it's windy!" The young very pale blue filly whined, returning to the matter at hoof and raising her voice higher, much to her mother's annoyance and nestled her head back into her fluffy hot pink button coat. The matter of the wind would then not seem as much a problem because of this garment, that and the matching coloured thick stocking she wore on her forelegs down to her hooves, the left of which was so pale it looked bone white. She put her hoof to her much tidied and brush-stroked red and dark blue striped mane in concern. "It's gonna ruin my mane and going out there's only gonna make it worse!"

The older, less spry Rainbow Dash was this close to bashing her own skull in. "Drizzilla…I honestly don't care."

"But what if it starts raining?"

"It's not going to, believe me, I should know."

"And if I cough up, again?"

"Then hard hay! Now stop messing around; we're almost there."

But the filly was not going to stop there and continued with her rant, "But I hate them, Mom. They're all just a bunch of posers!"

"Then I guess you'll have plenty to talk about," Rainbow Dash answered her daughter in the most deadpan tone possible. She peered forward and spotted their destination. "Okay, here we are. Oh look…they're already here."

The two Pegasi trotted passed the outskirts of the town and approached a nearby open field alongside a dirt road a few trees. Rainbow Dash and her friends knew this place well; this was where they would all take their pets, her tortoise named Tank included, for play dates. That was years ago. Nowadays, it served a similar purpose, yet in lieu of pets, they brought along their children to play whilst they sat to the side and talked about whatever it was mares approaching their middle age were interested in.

After all, the Mane Six were no longer as young as they used to be.

"Rainbow, there you are," both Pegasi turned to their left and saw Twilight Sparkle trotting up to them and greeting them cheerily. "I was beginning to worry whether you were show up today, especially after last time." Twilight then became nervous, like she had just said something offensive and immediately backtracked. "N-not like that's a, uhh, a bad thing. I-I mean, not like we're mad at you or each other about it…or anything."

Rainbow Dash put her hoof up, as if to tell Twilight that "it's cool". Her attention returned to her daughter. "There," Rainbow Dash pointed over at a large tree a stone's throw away down a slope where under it the silhouette a few ponies could be seen. "Go play with your friends, and give mommy a rest."

"They're not my frie-"

"Now!"

Stifling a scream of frustration through her gritted teeth, the filly stormed off down the slope, heading towards the tree, not without looking back over her shoulder and shouting loudly, "I hate you, mommy!"

"Yeah, what else is new?" Rainbow Dash shouted back and pounded her hood in the ground, seething for a moment. When she cooled down, she trotted passed an awkward Twilight, groaning, "Come on, let's go."

Both mares made their way over to a spot where six recliner chairs were set up, and slumped down, letting out sighs of relief. Pinkie Pie was already there next to them, sitting up straight and sipping a tall glass of pink lemonade on the rocks.

"Got any cider?" The blue Pegasus looked over at a blue ice box that's lid was closed. "I'm feeling like a big frothy mug."

"If you're talking about the stuff the doctor told you to seriously lay off of – which I know you are – then no," Twilight responded, crossing her hoofs over her belly. "We've just got lemonade. Sorry." Rainbow Dash groaned and threw her head back against the chair and pouted grumpily. Her friend frowned and told her in concern, "Rainbow, you've got to start listening to them and take their word. I mean, I know you of all ponies enjoy your cider-"

Que Pinkie Pie, who, in her trademark fashion, popped up in between the two and exclaimed, "'Enjoy'? Rainbow guzzles it down like…like oats! I remember like, a few years, and she was all like this!" She did her best impression of a dog lapping up water from its dish and Twilight slowly pushed the party pony away from between her and Rainbow Dash. If there was thing that had not changed over the years, it was Pinkie Pie.

"All I'm saying is if you don't cut back, then you risk one day wrecking your liver!"

"…meh. I'll just buy myself a new one."

Such a ludicrous statement would normally have left Twilight in a state of stuttering disbelief, but over the years, she came to except and go along with it. She just took a bottle of lemonade out the ice box and poured herself a glass.

A moment of silence between the three passed, until Rainbow Dash brought up something conversation-worthy. A fleeting thought reminded her that this would be the last thing Twilight would have wanted to talk about during a time when she was supposed to be relaxing, but they needed something to break the ice after the last conversation ending about Rainbow Dash getting a new liver.

"So how's the campaign going?"

Her friend did not need second invite. The purple Unicorn pulled herself upright, pressing her hooves up against her temples. "Ohhhh, that reminds me. I've got that debate in town hall next Tuesday, and that fundraiser tomorrow night! That's three days away and I look a mess!" On 'mess', she took out a compact mirror and examined her herself worriedly. "I've got so many wrinkles 'round my eyes and…ohh, they say the camera adds five pounds! I'll look like a whale!"

"Actually, it adds ten pounds," beamed Pinkie Pie, innocently smiling ear-to-ear.

"Ten pounds?" Twilight's panicking now escalated into hyperventilating.

"Wait, I think it's twen-" Pinkie Pie did not get to finish when Rainbow Dash near enough shoved her hoof in her mouth. She held her other hoof out expectantly and Pinkie promptly gave her a brown paper bag out from hammerspace, and Rainbow Dash gave it to Twilight, who began breathing in and out to calm her calm, which she gradually did.

That fiasco narrowly being avoided, Rainbow Dash sighed, "Now I'm sorry I asked. Listen, Twi, just book an appointment with Aloe and Lotus before the debate. You'll look fine."

"O…kay…" she managed in between inhalations. When she was able to string more than two words together, she pressed her temples again, saying, "Ohhhh, it'd be a whole lot easier on me if Brainy wasn't being so-no. No, I'm promised myself 'not today'."

"Wise decision…" It was then that Rainbow Dash noticed something in all honestly, she should have done minutes ago. "Hey, where's Rarity, Fluttershy and AJ? I haven't seen 'em at all since I got here."

"Down there, on her way and not coming because she's busy," Pinkie answered in order to each name.

"That's the third time she's bailed on us," the blue Pegasus complained. "Busy with what?"

"Well, from what I heard, Appletini got himself into a lot of trouble yesterday."

"What'd he do?"

Pinkie Pie looked ready to burst with the gossip and leaned in and whispered in her friends' ears. As they listened, their expressions grew to shock, then to confusion, and lastly to seriously sceptic.

Finally finishing her news, Pinkie recoiled back into chair, holding her hooves together and giggling almost uncontrollably, though the other two did not look impressed.

"Cool story, Pinkie," Rainbow Dash remarked dryly, basically telling her, 'that's complete asinine!'

Taking another sip of her lemonade, Twilight merely tutted, "Really, Pinkie, the entire chicken livestock? What pony would be foolish enough to do something like that?"

She took a pause to think her answer through, rubbing her chin, and offered, "Appletini?"

The two eyed each other for a few seconds, taking this into account, before both shrugging nonchalantly, admitting to the pink party pony, "Meh. Fair enough."

Rainbow Dash's daughter, Drizzilla could practically taste the bile rising to her mouth. When she got closer to the tree, she gradually made out the silhouettes of the ponies ahead. It was that spoiled Unicorn, Precious with her doting mother at her side. She bucking hated that brat and the feeling was mutual, and yet their mothers immediately expected them to be friends, no questions asked. Regularly, Drizzilla would have gone up to Precious and made an insulting remark about her mane or her tacky coats, but with the filly's mother right there, she had no choice but to swallow her bile and put on her biggest, sweetest faux smile she could muster.

"Now Precious, remember to always keep your head up high and your muzzle pointing upward. At all times, do you understand?" Rarity based back and forth in front of her daughter like a military instructor overlooking a batch of new recruits, both of them standing under the tree. "The message you're trying to get across to the judges is: "Here I am. Don't judge me, love and appreciate me, because I'm just that special." And another thi- Precious, are you even listening to me? Precious!"

In fact, her daughter was doing anything but listening to her. The lilac Unicorn filly was busy standing up on her hind legs, swinging her forelegs and hips to the beat, the beat only she could here from the MP3 player on the ground that she was listening to.

Harrumphing, Rarity used her horn's magic to make the headset her daughter was listening through lift off her head and drop to the ground.

Precious scowled at this and stomped her hoof crossly. "Mooom! What the buck?" She demanded in a lower, more nasally voice which sounded like her muzzle was completely bunged up with a dreadful cold, despite the fact the filly was in good health. If she was not, Rarity would never have brought her outside to be exposed to germs, at least not without a complete thick winter getup.

"Young lady! How many times have I told you not to use that kind of vulgar language?" Rarity scolded the filly, swatting her firmly over the head. "I am trying to teach you the fine art of prancing. What I am showing you is a winning prance if there ever has been one, my dear, and I expect you to be paying attentio—Precious!" The filly had placed her headphones one once more and continued dancing to her music, until Rarity forcibly yanked them off again herself.

A voice rang shrilly from behind, and Rarity looked over her shoulder and smiled at seeing who approached them.

"Hiiii, Mrs Rarity," Drizzilla said in the cheeriest and most sugary voice she could manage, keeping her faux grin as long as she could. "How are you and Precious, today? You both look amazing!" On the inside, this was absolutely murdering her.

"Ah, Drizzilla sweetie, there you are," she said and examined the filly's mane with much appreciation. "Oh, we're just fine, darling and thank you for the compliment. And I must say, somepony has really done her mane well this morning." Rarity added with a stern look to her own daughter, "Honestly, Precious, you really could learn a lesson or two from your friend." Clearly, she was referring to her daughter's bright pink, but unkempt mane that matched well with her overall frumpy demeanour. "Now if you'll both excuse me, I simply must go sit down and refresh myself. And this time…let's try and settle any disagreements we have a bit more peacefully, using words instead of hooves, hmm?" And with that, she took off up the slope, leaving the two fillies to themselves.

"Yeees, Mrs Rarity. We'll use our words, alright."

"Ugh…yeah, mom."

Now alone with Precious, Drizzilla dropped her grin and scowled at the Unicorn, rubbing her sore face. Doing that 'sweet' act whenever in Rarity or any of other grownup's presence (save for her mother) was more than she could bear. To be accurate, it felt to the filly like she was injecting enough sugar into her own bloodstream to give her diabetes.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Pweshus!" Drizzilla scoffed, pronouncing her "friend's" name in an insulting manner, as if she were stricken by a severe lisp.

"Hi, Drizzle Wizzle," Precious replied, running her glazed eyes up and down the Pegasus and crossing her hooves over each other, though her 'pet name' could do with a bit of work. "You're looking…dolled up, today."

Drizzilla looked over the electric blue coat the filly was wearing, the exact same make as hers save for the colour and remarked sarcastically, "Why, I just looove that adorable little getup your wearing. Were they having an 80% off sale at the discount store?"

Petty insults were not going to work on her, however. She huffed, pushing her thick collar up to her cheeks, "Flown straight in from Fillydelphia. Electric blue's the new black, hon. Not like you'd know anything about fashion, though. What's that you're wearing? Pink?" Precious held the back of her hoof to her forehead in pretend dismay. "Now that's a fashion faux pas if I ever saw one!" She stepped forward and placed a hoof on the stunned and speechless Pegasus, telling her, sounding almost genuinely sympathetic, "I gotta say, it's really brave of you to go trotting around in public dressed like that."

A multi-pronged verbal assault like that took Drizzilla, and she tried to regain her composure, stuttering angrily, "Oh y-yeah? We-well...like you'd know ANYTHING about fashion, Pweshus! The only reason you get good clothes is because your mom gets them all for you! You're nothing but a, a…POSER!"

Precious gasped dramatically, grabbing and pulling down on her cheeks. "A POSER? You've gotta a lotta nerve!" She pointed her hoof not at her, but over her shoulder. "At least my mom doesn't go dressing up like she's from Los Pegasus!" Drizzilla gasped, holding her hoof near her gaping mouth. "Oh, that's right, sister, I went there. You have to be a super poser if you have to do your mane up like that!"

Little did the fillies know that their bickering left them totally oblivious to how somepony was keeping his eye on the two, observing from above. He was not going to launch his offensive yet; he wanted to see how this played out, first.

"How dare you?" Drizzilla grinded her teeth furiously and took a step forward and got up in Precious' face. "My mom's from Cloudsdale, and that's the best place in the whole of Equestria. You and your mom act like those stuck-up snobs from Canterlot! Heh…" she scoffed, grinning maliciously at seeing Precious' look. She knew she had her good now. "Am I right? I know I'm right! Well, guess what, Pweshus; you're never gonna be one of them. All you'll and your mom are ever gonna be are a couple of po-"

"Hello, girls,"

The fillies stopped and their eyes shot open like pairs of dinner plates and almost automatically, they twisted around with the shiniest eyes and widest smiles possible. It was Fluttershy and her daughter.

"We're sorry we're late, girls," Fluttershy spoke in her soft, gentle voice akin to a dove cooing in your garden on a lazy Sunday afternoon. "But Angel was being fussy with breakfast…again." She lowered her head to her daughter's level and stroked her muzzle against her cheek, much to the latter's embarrassment in front of the others. "Now you play nice, Jellybean, but don't overdo it or you might pull something again. You know how tender you are."

"Mooom…" Jellybean squeaked, her cheek's blushing and wrapping herself up tightly in her large white fluffy coat. The situation was certainly not helped by the fact that Drizzilla and Precious were right there and their hushed sniggering was sneaking through their smiling disguises.

Jellybean was the spitting image of her beautiful mother, sharing her soft shade of lemon, but her mane, whilst Fluttershy's was light pink, was a cyan which with many strokes of a brush had a beautiful sheen to it. There was one other thing that set her apart from her mother, and in fact, a lot of fillies in general…

"Y-yes, mommy," Jellybean said finally with a sweet smile and her doe eyes glistening, pecking her expectant mother on the cheek.

"Okay, you girls have a good time," Fluttershy left the fillies at last, allowing Jellybean to mentally sigh, albeit knowing full well what was coming next. She quickly decided she would have to make the first move, however. So when her mother was far enough to be deemed out of earshot, Jellybean's sweet, affectionate smile dropped and was replaced by a deep, exhausted frown. This frown contorted into a dirty scowl when she looked forward and saw her so-called "friends" still standing there, both smirking like they had won the lottery.

Having now discarded her practiced sweet façade in the company of these two, Jellybean snorted and blew a strand of her mane away from her view of vision. "And what exactly are you two gawking at?"

"You should listen to mommy, Jelly," Drizzilla started cooing at her like she was a foal. She reached out her hoof and was inches from her belly. "You wouldn't wanna get another tummy ache and throw up your brunch, now would you?"

"Oh, is that supposed to be another fat joke?" Jellybean stuck her muzzle up at the two. "Guess what; it wasn't funny or smart." Drizzilla was making a reference to the painfully obvious fact that Jellybean's belly was drooping nearly to the grass and pressing against her four legs.

"Yeah, but you're still fat…" Precious rebuked and she signalled Drizzilla through the corner of her eye, who got it right away and they grinned and chanted simultaneously, "Jellybelly!"

That hated nickname stung the filly Pegasus than the worst of bee stings. She squeezed her eyes shut and bore it like a spoonful of bad medicine, and put her confident, smirking mask to the girls.

Is that it, Precious?" She asked her condescendingly just as the fillies were calming down. "Wow, you must've really had to rub your two brain cells hard together to come up with that old one." This earned a chuckle from Drizzilla and Precious looked ready to retort, but Jellybean was far from finished. "Though to be honest, I'm surprised you have any brain cells left, let alone two," she pointed at Precious' MP3 player still on the ground. "Personally, I blame that poppy trash you listen to. It rots your brain, though I'm not entirely sure you had much of one to begin with."

Drizzilla burst out laughing, tears running down her cheeks and all Precious could do was stand there stricken. The onlooker from above had now settled in his hiding place, his primary objective now forgotten and enjoying the show unravelling before him more than any cheap puppet show. He would make his move soon. His weapons were getting harder the longer they stayed exposed to the outside wind.

"You see, sweetie, it takes brains to win the pageant," Jellybean continued in the same smarmy, condescending tone. "So if I were you, I'd save myself the embarrassment by doing the sensible thing and drop out, and leave the competition to the pros."

The Unicorn's face was now flushing. She barked, "Oh, like I even wanna be in your stupid contest! The only reason I'm going is because my dumb mom's making me! Pageant's like that are for Canterlot wannabe posers like yo-"

"Which you and your mother blatantly are."

During this mouth off between the two, Drizzilla was sitting down on her flank, enjoying her temporary position as observer before she too would inevitably be dragged back in. In the midst of her continuous sniggering, the sudden change in subject to something about a 'pageant' caught her attention.

"Don't call my mom and me 'posers'!"

"You just called her 'dumb'. Make up your mind!"

"Oh, why don't you go stuff another cake in your cakehole, Jellybelly?"

"Hey!" A sharp loud whistle snapped them back to Drizzilla, who stood back up again. "What's all this stuff about a pageant?" She mentally slapped herself when their glazed stares rolled on her. It was her turn now.

Scoffing and closed her eyes to show off her pretty lashes, Jellybean whisked her long, glamorous mane. "Ugh! The 'Annual Little Miss Ponnyville Pageant', Drizzilla. It's ONLY the biggest event for the prettiest and most cultured girls in all of Ponyville."

A couple of seconds and Drizzilla's memory was jogged. "…oh yeah, I think I remember a bunch of girls going ga-ga over some sorta competition the last couple of years. Strange, you'd think a filly would remember something like that."

Strangely, Precious came out in her defence, saying, "Well, to be fair, the original pageant was cancelled twelve years ago and they only restarted it three years ago. It's actually pretty quiet compared to the original."

"Why'd they cancel it?"

"I dunno. Something about one of the contestants and a saw, but nopony really cares."

This moment of détente in their triple fronted war appeared to irritate Jellybean. She darted her tired eyes left and right tapped her hoof impatiently against the earth, as if waiting for a moment to pounce. Finally, her prays were answered.

"I don't get why so many ponies would enter a dumb competition like that. It's just sounds so-"

Jellybean butted it, raising her voice loudly and standing in between her and Precious. "Oh, well expect you to say that, Drizzle Wizzle. Typical loser talk!"

"Loser?" Drizzilla's forehead was inches from pressing up against Jellybean's. "Hey, better a loser than a poser!"

"Better a winner than a fre--!"

SPLAT!

"EEEEIIIIKKKK!"

They turned around. Precious' head was covered in…purple goo? Actually, purple goo, accompanied by large clumps of doe and crust, an aluminium bash and a gush of uncontrollable giggles coming from above.

Instinctively, all three looked up in the direction of the laughter. What they saw was a colt sitting up there in the tree, giggling like a schoolgirl and desperately clinging onto his sides like they were about to burst wide open.

"Jack N Box!"

The colt stood up on the branch and summersaulted through the air. He landed on the ground in front of the girls, spreading out his forelegs, allowing a burst of confetti (complete with a 'horn' sound effect from his breast pocket) out of the sleeves of the cute little bright orange and green pinstriped suit jacket he was wearing. He whipped a little white business card from his breast pocket and held it up to the fillies. It read in wonky green letters, 'Jack N Box, professional in practical jokes and hat enthusiast'. That last part went well with how he was wearing a large orange and green feathered hat that was clearly too big for his head.

"My card, ladie-"

"WHY'D YOU DO THAT?" Precious straight up screamed, scaring the hay out of Jack N Box and making him jump back and his hat nearly fall off. She wiped some purple jelly from her left eye and glared smouldering eyes at the colt.

All he could offer was a nervous grin and he said, "Because…it's funny."

"I'm covered in PIE!" Precious waved her forelegs around hysterically. "You've ruined my mane and my coat! Do you have any idea how much these cost?"

"Hey, whoa whoa, hey, calm down," he put his hooves up defensively and taking a couple of steps back. "It's a joke! I mean, a few hundred bits is worth a good laugh, right?"

"No it bucking isn't!" Precious rolled up her coat sleeves. "I'm totally gonna beat the hay outta you!" She shoved him on the ground.

The colt fearfully crawled on his back away from the advancing filly and started rummaging through his pockets. "B-b-back off, I've got another pie and I'm not afraid to use-hey, where is it?"

SPLAT!

Drizzilla could feel it running down the back of her neck and her eyes and face. Her eyes saw the purple trickle along and drip off her muzzle. She lifted her shaking hoof to her mane, gently knocking off the foil base and pressing her hoof against the soft mesh of hair, jelly and crust.

"Drizzilla…you okay?"

She did not say anything, but instead lowered her hoof and stared intently at what she saw on the bottom side. More purple gunk, only now with a few red and blue hairs and a crumb or two thrown in the mix. The filly's chest cavity began expanding and detracting, becoming faster and expanding further with each breath she took. Her large red pupil now shrunk to little dots surrounding by growing and pulsating veins and her heavy breathing continued until she could bare it no longer and she just let it all out.

"My…MAAA-AAA-AAA-AAANE!

Screaming bloody murder, Drizzilla launched herself on Jack N Box and went absolute psycho on the boy. Everypony had their own berserk button, and this boyo found himself in the unfortunate position of having pressed it. Hay, if he had not caught her by the shoulders right away, she would be tearing his face off with her teeth! They quickly started rolling around the grass in a chaotic barrel, but to make matters worse than they already were, they inadvertently rolled over Precious' MP3 player, crushing it to pieces. Her response, needless to say, was less than well handled.

"My…TUUU-UUU-UUU-UUUNES!" So she jumped in the fray and made it a three-on-three, ergo, even more entertaining.

All the while this was happening, Jellybean was left watching and blinking stupidly the chaos spiralling further and further. What do you do in a situation like this? Join in on the fun? Go tell the adults? Or do you just sit on your flank and nearly laugh it off completely watching the show? Well, not only did she pick the latter, but she even pulled out a hoof full of multi-coloured jellybeans she had stashed in her coat pocket and stuffed them in her mouth.

Unfortunately, the show was to be cancelled pretty quickly when the adults came galloping down to the scene, wanting to know just what the hay was going on!

"What the hay is going on here?" Rainbow Dash yelled over the fighting. See, I told you.

Each parent nabbed and pulled away and tried to restrain their respective child. Jack N Box was the easiest to tame, given his weaker lanky frame and being that he was the one least putting up a fight. Actually, given his utter lack of a metaphorical background, he slinked out of his mother's grip and behind her in a manner of using Pinkie Pie as a pony shield. Precious and Drizzilla, whom were a different story, for they were as wild as harpies. Rarity had to use her horn magic to keep her wild child in the air, punching and kicking furiously in her tantrum until she tired herself out, while Rainbow Dash on the other hoof simply pinned her daughter on to ground and placed her own weight on her until she stopped struggling. Jellybean, meanwhile, again in the presence of her mother, reassumed her sweet and innocent demeanour and snuggled up against her forelegs.

"HE RUINED MY MANE!"

"THEY BROKE MY MP3!"

"It's not my fault girls can't take a joke!"

"What did you say?"

"NO! I meant 'them', those two!"

This was pretty much how it went for the next fifteen minutes; shouting, accusing and hoof pointing. The parents eventually managed to piece together the basics of what had happened, but at the end of it all, it did not matter. Most colts and fillies who broke out into arguments would usually kissed and made up within ten or so minutes, but not these lot. If there was thing these parents could credit or discredit their kids for, it was how long the latter could carry on an argument. They misguidedly expected their children to get along with each other, believing them to actually be friends, but these "aggressive disagreements" as they called them were becoming more and more commonplace. Hay, another little skill the tykes had was dragging their parents into the whole affair and pitting them against each other, as evidenced when Pinkie, Rarity and Rainbow Dash started yelling at each other over who had caused the fight and should be punished. When Drizzilla screamed, "I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" at everypony with the intent in her eye looking pretty dang serious, the parents knew their brief weekly gathering was at its usual end – in tears.

"Okay, everypony, we'll try this again next week," Twilight sighed, shaking her head exasperatedly and they all gradually departed the scene, some still restraining their agitated prodigies. She added to herself mentally as she was the last to leave the area, 'Ugh. Is it too much to ask for one day when we can just spend time together in peace?' She left too, heading back on the now relatively longer journey home than it would have been years ago. 'Well, it's better than last time, at least. Ugh, that time we had that unpleasant trip to the hospital. Hay, we probably got lucky this time.'

"Just you wait 'till the next time I see you! I swear on my grandma's grave, I'm gonna shove my horseshoe right down your-" Rainbow tightened her grip around Drizzilla and shoved a hoof in her mouth to shut her up.

Twilight watched this closing act to their circus blankly before resuming her journey home. She continued thinking to herself, 'Yeah, very lucky. Boy…if Brainy were here, he might've been able to keep the peace for at least ten minutes…oh, who am I kidding? He'd probably have only made it worse! Hay, why stop there? He would've caused the whole darn thing! He…' Her thoughts suddenly stopped, as did her legs, in the middle of the sidewalk back inside town. It was as if everything insider her simply froze like a busted computer for a moment. She was standing there for the best of three minutes, staring down the straight line of concrete before her, until she finally broke out of her little trance and shook her head. Twilight now remembered. She was supposed to spend some time with him today, in an hour to be exact.

"Don't know what good it'll do…" Twilight muttered to herself and forced her sleepy legs forward. From what the docs told her, he was currently in one of his "more uncooperative moods".

Chapter Two

Ponyville:

The Next Generations

Chapter Two

"Riddle me this: what is more powerful than the Princesses...more evil and twisted than Discord...smarter than me...the poor have it...the rich need it...and if you eat it you will die?"

"I don't know, Brainy. What?"

"You have to figure it out for yourself. That's the whole point."

Twilight was standing on the same spot, in the same dirty greyish green corridor she always stood on the fourth floor of Barking Asylum, a relatively modern psychiatric hospital in north-west Ponyville. It was set up ten years ago by the cured Barking Mad, heir to the Barking fortune, to create a facility in the town specifically for the mentally ill outside Ponyville General. Its patients ranged from those having breakdowns to some of the most tragic cases to offer, and became a begrudging town landmark because of this. Right now, Twilight was meeting up with one of the institution's not so dangerous, but certainly frustrating patients.

The bleach white on the walls of Brainy's cell were lost in a jungle of pinned up and Blu-Tacked puzzle books, crosswords, word searches, newspaper clippings, photographs, graphs and a lot of his own writings, and the floor was completely swamped with whatever he could not pinup, including a few thick books and all kinds of handheld mechanical puzzles from a couple of jigsaws to a handful of key puzzles to at least two dozen Rubik's cubes of varying forms and styles. Anypony else might take a look at this and think this was more of a private study than a mental institution cell, but for Twilight Sparkle, it made sense, at least in context.

Sitting on his rock hard bed with his hind legs dangling off the edge and his sticklike forelegs rested in his lap, Brainy was in the middle of finishing another crossword puzzle with a long white quill (which her repeatedly dipped in an ink pot near the bed), solving his fourth Rubik of the day and scribbling his own thoughts on an old piece of parchment with a shorter black quill. It was for multitasking where being a unicorn and having an eyesore protruding out of your head really came in useful. All the while he was working, his dull, almost lifeless sunken in eyes remained fix on Twilight through the glass and bar door that made the fourth wall of his cell and was the physical barrier between them.

Brainy himself was a gangly colt of an odd colour – a darkish blend of grey and blue and his mess of a bright blue mane with the few remaining moderate sapphire streaks could not help but remind Twilight of that time traveling incident from her youth. Over this poorly built body, he wore a loose-fitting grey jumpsuit with a number imprinted on the top left (his point of view) - 24601.

"The doctors say you've been making excellent progress the last few weeks," Twilight smiled, trying to move off the subject and establish a more positive mood to the conversation.

"What progress?"

She took a quick glance around the clutter that filled his cell. "Well...you're adjusting well to the new programme."

A good point, but nevertheless, he shrugged the remark off and motioned his hoof around the room. "Not exactly like I was given a choice, now was I?"

"And you're overall behaviour's really improved...save for today," she frowned and stared somewhat uncomfortably at the ground. "They said you made one of the nurses cry."

"I just told her that her grating Bucklyn accent sounded almost like she was an eight-year-old being strangled, and if she ever wanted to get in bed with one of the married doctor she'd have to stop slavering herself in cheap makeup and selling herself like a Trutskovite prostitute. I was being blunt. That's how I am." Brainy closed his eyes in thought as the levitating Rubik's to his right finished twisting and turning. It was complete. He opened them again and declared flatly, "28.455 seconds. Not one of my best times. I must be losing my edge."

"Okay, seriously, how could you possibly know how long that took? You were hardly even paying attention to it. I know you're clever, Brainy, but nopony's that accurate."

"I am," he replied, saying it as if it were an everyday fact even a five-year-old foal would know and tapped the side of his head. "I just counted the time in my head. Anypony can do that, even you…mother." Something made it hard for him to say that last word, but Twilight, being the closest one to him throughout his entire young life, knew his character enough to understand why. The unimpressed look in his eyes and curling of his lips told it all to her. She was actually a lot smarter than her son wanted to give her credit for.

She bit her lip, trying to think of what to say next. "I really want you to come home, Brainy." Twilight knew the request was futile, but she wanted to get it off her chest. "I-I've still got your room just the way you like it. All the books, equipment and everything! I…we all miss you."

The young Unicorn appeared to be thinking it over, but his answer was as expected. "Not yet, thank you," he smiled and dropped the Rubik's cube to the pile on the cell floor. "And as much as I appreciate the sap and sentiment, I sincerely doubt those buffoons you call friends are that concerned for me." He held up his finished crossword to her before using his horn magic to levitate it over to a rare bare space on the cell wall and a pin from a small plastic pot to keep it in place. "No, I'll remain here for a while, until I'm in tiptop form again. I'm sure you'll respect my decision. It's for my own good. After all, I'm sure any mother would want what's best for her son."

"Of course..." Twilight said quietly. She found herself stuck in the same awkward position of not knowing what to say again. After fifteen seconds of near silence, save for the scratching of Brainy' black quill on the piece of parchment, and she was about to say something else, Brainy beat her to the punch.

"No, mom, there's nothing you can get for me," he assured her with tedium. It was like the colt could predict everything that his mother could and was going to say, as if he had read it on a script and memorized it. He motioned to several of the items in his cell. "I have plenty of ink, I can simply re-muddle again my cubes and I've plenty of puzzles to keep me going. Thank you though."

An idea came to the mare's mind and she asked with a grin, "Wh-what about a pair of those glasses you like, the purple ones? I...I can try and get them for you." The mare sounded almost desperate to do something for son, be it even the most minor thing like a glass of water or a fashionable pair of specs.

Purple tinted glasses. Now those were a luxury Brainy had been without now for these last three months straight. His eyes flickering for a second, the black quill rested down on the parchment and he said, "Okay. If you can, get me those glasses. These contacts are becoming really irritating."

"I'll do it!" She responded enthusiastically, but was interrupted by a chime. She twisted her head up at the clock on the wall. The time and the preceding chime told the visit was over. "Oh...well, I guess that's my cue to leave. I'll do what I can about the glasses. I..." her lips pursed before finishing, sounding somewhat uncertain if it was the appropriate thing to say, "I love you, son."

"Yeah," Brainy unenthusiastically said, his attention returning to the parchment he was still writing on. "Same here, mom." He suddenly perked up a tad, and asked his mother before she made a move to leave, "Why didn't you bring her with you?"

"...Brainy, I can't. Sh-she's too young. Besides, I was too far away from the library. I wouldn't have had the time, anyway."

Brainy was not impressed by this excuse, nor apparently did he buy it. He just returned to his parchment, muttering only audibly, "Of course."

Dejected, Twilight turned around with her head lowered, and walked off in the direction she came in, down the corridor towards the double doors. She kept her eyes forward, trying her best to cast her gaze on the other patients that could see her through the glass and bar doors. The noise coming from one cell particularly made her pick up her pace.

"Cutting, cutting, cutting, cutting, cutting, cutting..."

When she was inches from touching reaching the doors, a voice rang loudly and firmly, stopping her in place.

"Wait!"

Recognising it as her son's voice and the level of urgency in it, the Unicorn mare immediately turned back and rushed down the corridor, back to Brainy's cell, as fast as she could. When she got there, screeching to a stop, her heart was racing and her cheeks were flushed a bit. It would seem she was more out of shape than she realized.

"What...is it...?" she panted.

Brainy had risen from his bedside and was slowly moving towards her on what any average pony would consider biology improbable: his hind legs. He was bent over forwards and appeared to be struggling, but he successfully shuffled himself over to his mother as much as the revealed cuff and chain attached to his leg allowed him to.

"You didn't answer my riddle."

"Brainy, I already told you, I don't know."

Not good enough. "No, you just don't want to figure it out, because your mind is distracted by pointless priorities!" Sharpness had overtaken the tone of his voice and his brows furrowed. He was starting to have another one of his little mood swings. "You're smart enough to get it, mother! You didn't spend all those years studying under the princess to become some simple-minded feeb, did you?"

"All right, just calm down," Twilight put her hoof up in an effort to calm the suddenly agitated Brainy.

It was to no avail. Brainy was no raging, stomping his hooves in a fit and he repeated his riddle from earlier, putting a loud emphasis on certain words. "Ruh-ruh-riddle me THIS: What is more POWERFUL than the Princesses and more EVIL and TWISTED than Discord? The poor HAVE it...the rich NEED it...if you EAT it you will DIE, and - and this is important, listen - it is SMARTER than ME!"

The only way to stop his ravings bringing in the guards to physically restrain him was for Twilight to co-operate, and she did.

"The universe?" she offered, only half thinking about the riddle itself and just throwing something from off the top of her head.

"Wrong!"

"Uh, uhh..."

A group of three guards and a doctor appeared next to Twilight, walking up to her and the doctor holding a syringe and each of the guards having a taser in hoof.

"Is everything all right here, ma'am?" The doctor asked, concerned and glaring at Brainy from the corner of his eye.

"No, no. It's fine. He's just a little worked up, that's all," Twilight assured them with a nervous smile. She then returned her attention to Brainy, telling him, "Look, Brainy, I honestly don't know right now, but how about this? I'll go home and sleep on it and I'll tell you the answer the next time I come and visit, okay?"

Despite how clearly this solution visibly displeased Brainy, he trekked backwards towards his bedside and sat down, holding and rubbing his hoofs together.

"Fine," he muttered with dissatisfaction, staring down at his hooves dangling over the bedside. "Give me an answer and I just might talk to you again."

"Okay. I'll see you later."

The tense situation had been diffused. Twilight nodded to the doctor and the guards before she walked passed them and headed off towards the exit. Looking at each other for a moment, they shrugged and followed after her, leaving Brainy all alone again in his little cell. It was just him, his puzzles, his books and his writings.

He sat still for a few fleeting moments, taking in the fact that he was completely alone once more with no one to talk to, or rather talk down to. Even though it pained him to admit it, even a pony like him did not particularly enjoy being so isolated from others for so long. The colt noticed an unsolved Rubik's cube lying on the floor, begging to be solved, and he accepted the challenge. His horn glowed and the cube rose into the air. Its sides twisted and turned, until each side was left with only one colour.

"20.714 seconds," he smirked confidently and tossed it aside. "That's much better."

...Crash! The sound of the bowling ball rolling down the lane and scattering the pins, followed by the boisterous cheers of the bowlers was music to Apple Bloom's ears. She did not know what it was exactly, but something was certainly rhythmic about the continuous echoing sound when she leaned back in the circular bench in her lane and closed her eyes. It coincided well with the song 'The stallion in me' by Buck Dylan that was currently being played throughout the bowling alley/arcade/bar - something else she enjoyed listening to over and over.

"Whooo! Hot nelly, I'm tossing rocks tonight!" Sweetie Belle chirped at the sight of her third strike in a row and turned to walk back to the bench. It taken a long time, years even, but the now grown up Unicorn had now trained herself to become quite the bowler. To get three strikes in a row in one night was not some dumb luck. "Mark it, girls."

Sitting down next to Apple Bloom as the latter took the bowling ball from out of her bag, getting ready to go up for her turn was Scootaloo, who was hunched over, nursing a large plastic cup of cider. The two had been talking for a while now during their tri-weekly excursion to the Ponyville bowling alley, discussing the plight that currently upon Apple Bloom's household.

"So, uh...these were valued chickens, huh?"

"Yeah, they really completed the whole farm."

"Yeah, they were valued, uh..."

Sweetie Belle sat down on the chair behind the score chart and picked up a pen and marked her strike, knowing full well that they were not.

"Wait, what really completed the farm, AB?" she asked, peering over her shoulder at them.

Scootaloo raised her eyebrow at the Unicorn, frowning unimpressed. "Were you listening to Apple Bloom's story, Sweetie Belle?"

"What? No, I was bowling-"

"Oh, okay, then you have no frame of reference here, Sweetie Belle," she continued irately, ranting on. "You're just like Dinky; you wonder in in the middle of a conversation and you want to know-"

The only Earth pony of the trio grunted frustratingly, having to tie her shoes together and listening to one of Scootaloo's rants. "What the hay is yer point, Scoot?"

"Yeah, Scoot, what's your point?" Sweetie Belle chipped in for the sake of joining in on the conversation.

"Huh?" she asked, thrown off by the two questions and looked like she was going to lay into Sweetie Belle again. "What?"

"What's the point of-Gah!" Applebloom now threw her head back, having screwed up her laces and let out a loud groan of frustration. "We all know mah nephew's at fault, so what the buck are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Wha-No! What the buck are you talking-Ugh!" Scootaloo closed her eyes and grinded her teeth before saying, "We're talking about unchecked stupidity and this stupid thing called collective responsibility here!"

"The chickens?" Sweetie Belle scratched her head.

Apple Bloom corrected her, taking out her bowling gloves and slipping them on, "No, she's talkin' 'bout mah nephew."

"Forget it, Sweetie Bell!" The gamboge-furred Pegaus barked at the Unicorn. "I appreciate you're trying, but face it, you're out of your element!" She turned back to her other friend. "No, your dipshit nephew is not the issue. I'm talking about you taking a stand for yourself, about drawing a line in the sand-"

"What the buck are ya talkin' 'bout, "he's not the issue", Scootaloo?" Apple Bloom stared at her as if she were talking more rubbish than usual. "He lost all mah family's prized chickens!" She got up from her seat with her bowling ball and cider and trotted over to the lane. "So who..."

"You and your sister are the issue!" Scootaloo explained, watching her go up. "Your sister is making you and Big Macintosh search up and down all of Ponyville with a microscope for a bunch of stupid chickens your stupid nephew was supposed to be taking care of!" Her voice became a little harsher when she got onto the main reason behind her indignation.

Slurping down her cider, she shrugged and got into bowling position. "In case y'all haven't noticed, he's out helpin' my sister find 'em, right now."

Scootaloo smacked her forehead and ran it down her face. "Not-the-bucking-ISSUE! You shouldn't be made to suffer for his screw up as well, especially when we've got the tournament starting in just two days! Now am I wrong?"

"No, but-"

"Am I wrong, Apple Bloom!?"

Dropping her bowling position, Apple Bloom's face contorted into a defeated expression, saying, "No...you're not wrong."

Scootaloo nodded in satisfaction and lifted her cup of cider and spoke now calmly, "Thank you...now your cousin's lost your family a main source of income and Applejack's gonna be on your back for Celestia knows how long. Now that is going to screw up your game, is it not?"

The more she thought about it, the more Apple Bloom considered how right her friend was. She and her friends had been training for weeks for this tournament and now Appletini had done gone bucked things up for them. How was she supposed to focus on training or the contest itself with Applejack ringing her up every five minutes to ask her if she found the chickens or to tell her to search somewhere else in the town? She had needs too!

"Ya'll know what? Buckin' A!" She decided after a moment, any thoughts of tossing her ball and smashing those pins almost a distant memory in her head.

"Wait...doesn't that mean you should be looking for them, right now?" Sweetie queried slowly, being slow on the uptake as always, to which Scootaloo swatted her across the head.

"Eeyup."

All three of their heads spun in shock at that deep, familiar voice to their left. Big Macintosh stood there in the lane next to theirs, that typical bored expression on his face and a large bowling ball under his giant hoof.

"B-Big Mac, wh-what're you doin' here?" Apple Bloom stuttered, taking on the role of eight-year-old sister her older brother. No matter how many years passed, Big Macintosh would always be the big brother, both in age and size, so recognizing his authority was mostly instinctive.

The red stallion simply replied in his also typical deep, monotone voice, "Ah could ask you the same thing." His large hoof tapped against the bowling ball.

"Ohhh," Apple Bloom realized, looking up and down and her and her friends' demeanours relaxing more. "Sorry, it's just that ah thought Applejack sent you to check on me or somethin'."

"Nnope."

"So...you here to bowl as well, huh?"

Big Macintosh lowered his brows and tapped his bowling ball once again but harder.

"Oh yeah."

'Briiiiiiiing!' 'Briiiiiiiing!' 'Briiiiiiiing!'

Closing her eyes and cringing, Apple Bloom located that infuriating sound and the blinking light coming as always from her bag and groaned loudly, pounding her hoof against her head and set her ball down. She trudged over to the bag and whipped out her mobile phone and before answering it, motioned to her brother and friends to keep hushed.

"Hello, Applejack?"

"Apple Bloom, where are ya?"

"Ah'm, uh…Ah'm right by the Everfree forest, searchin' fer those chickens, jus' like ya said." She fibbed, rather badly, tightening her lips and lookin' at the others and indicated them to do something, they just did know what, at first. "Ah'm goin' through the bushes, right now. Why, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle are with me, right guys?" Apple Bloom held the phone in their direction and Scootaloo, catching on, immediately began making rustling noises and even a few clucking noises. Sweetie Belle just sat there with a cocked eyebrow and said, "Uhh..." and Big Macintosh just shook his head.

Crash! The loud sound of a strike and subsequent scattering of pins ruined whatever chance they had. Apple Bloom cringed once more and awaited the response over the phone.

"...ya'll bowlin'. Ain't ya?"

"Applejack, ah'm-we're-tunnel-can't talk-gr-he-" she hung up and shoved the phone back in her bag, sighing painfully. Now she was in deep trouble when she got home. Apple Bloom turned on Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle and called them out, "What the hay was that? "Cluck, cluck"? An' Sweetie, what, ya jus' sit there? C'mon!"

Meanwhile, the red stallion had entirely blocked out the trio's arguments and was in bowling position. He set his bowling ball down inches before the line and faced the other way from it. Taking a deep breath, he imagined the ball was an apple tree and summoning his might strength, concentrated it into his lifted hind leg and BAM!

Everypony, and literally everypony watched the ball rocket down the lane, not even touching the very lane itself and obliterated the pins. It did not stop there; the force of the collision was so great even the pins in the surrounding pins either shook or collapsed, Apple Bloom's included. The trio of friends were left speechless and the cider in Scootaloo's hoof fell from her grip and splashed on the floor, making possibly the only sound in the silent alley other than the replacement of 'The stallion in me' with some poppy trash that only the younger generations would enjoy.

Not saying another word and picking up his ball after it rolled back, Big Macintosh turned to leave the awestruck bowling alley, telling Apple Bloom and company and most likely everypony else in the building, "Ah'll be seein' ya'll at the tournament."

Apple Bloom watched him go, her jaw dangling open to the point where it could have easily dropped off. Scootaloo got up from her seat, carrying her bowling ball with her and walked past the stunned Earth pony, saying, referring to the new set of pins being set up, "My turn, AB."

"Anythin'?"

Outside Sweet Apple Acres, the older Applejack was hanging a pair of binoculars around her neck, which she occasionally peered through to scan the scenery. Thick bags had formed underneath her eyes from a serious lack of sleep and stress. She took off her now older and worn-out cowboy hat and wiped her brow with the back of her hoof, and she grunted when the pain in her back resurfaced and steadily placed her hoof back on the ground next to a medium sized medicine bottle of liniment.

Out of the bushes popped a small colt, who shook the sticks and leaves off his person and trotted up to Applejack, waiting until he was right next to her to answer with a cheery smile, "Nope."

Applejack swatted her forehead and shook her head. "Okay...Appletini, honey, let's try this one last time; where was the last time ya saw 'em? Think hard!" she added the last part sternly, nudging him a bit.

Appletini tugged on the yellow and white diamond patterned handkerchief, as was his mannerism when remembering. The colt shared a lot of his appearance with his mother. His coat was orange like hers, but a much darker, rustic even, shade of orange, and his straw mess of a mane was a sandy colour with a few long bright green strains here and there. Over it he was wearing a grey patching sort of hat you would more likely see on a scarecrow than a pony, though it matched well with the straw-like quality his mane had.

"Hmmm," he seemed to find it difficult to pinpoint where in his polka dotted memory he last caught glimpse of the fowls. "Well, ah can remember that ah took all the chickens outta their hen house so I could clean it up and then-"

"Ah know what you were doin', Appletini."

"Ah know that. It's jus' that ah have ta go through it all ta remember," Appletini rubbed his temples to remember more and continued, "But when ah was takin' 'em out, ah had a great idea; what about a 'chicken derby'? We could sell tickets, set up a big ol' racing track, it'd be so great!" His face dropped. "But when ah next came out, they was all gone!" Appletini became rather bashful and added, "Ah think it may have somethin' ta do with me leavin' the cage door open, though, heh heh heh."

The mare sighed long and hard and lectured her son crossly, "It's not funny, 'tini. We get a lotta money outta those chickens and if we don't get 'em back, how're we gonna fix the upstairs toilet...which you also broke!"

"But ah'm tellin' ya, ma, ah saw a diamond ring get lost down there! Ah figured it'd be worth somethin', so…yeah, maybe the jackhammer wasn't a good idea, but if it was diamond then...yeah." He finished his sentenced lamely, having lost whatever argument he was trying to make.

"The point is that we can't rely on apples alone, Appletini! Not these days." Applejack knew it would be futile to try and explain economics to her son, but she could at least try. "Losin' those chickens means we lose a foothold in the market and somepony else could easily replace us. That's why we need to get 'em back as soon as possible. Do you understand what ah'm tellin' ya?"

Not a difficult question to answer, but Appletini stared at his mother blankly, blinking a couple of times, before asking and pointing his hoof over his shoulder, "Can ah go back to searchin' in the bushes now?"

She sighed again exasperatedly, "Sure."

"Yipeee!" Full of cheer and excitement, the colt spun around and galloped and dove into another of the many bushes in search of the lost chickens.

Applejack sighed a second time but her back pain, which had dulled whilst she was talking to her son, returned with a vengeance. She had to bite her tongue to prevent her from yelling out and cursing in pain. The mare sat down on her flank and picked up the bottle of liniment in one hoof and used the other to rub its contents into her spine. Now and then she poured a few more drops of the liniment into her open hoof and reached behind her back to rub again. Every time she did, a shiver ran up and down her spine, replacing the pain and she gave off a shuddering moan.

"That's better...ohhh yeah...that's much better."

Well, for the Element of Honesty, she was not being entirely honest here, at least to herself. Drinking down cider or better, whisky made her feel much better than any liniment that had to reapplied every few moments or so. But at the moment, alcohol was absolutely off-limits for her. After all, for the second time in her still relatively young life, she was with child.

Jack N Box's room was a small, cramped living arrangement to say the least. Located at the very top of Sugarcube Corner, above his mother's room, it once served as the Cake family's attic, but upon Jack's arrival into the world, it was cleared up to become his bedroom. The walls were mostly muted colours - green and brown, mostly. On the left, next to the grey wardrobe and radiator was a roundish black cabinet in which the key was still in the lock. Smack-dab in the centre and obviously taking up more of the already confined room than needed was a large table, capable of seating eight ponies and draped in a muted black and white chequered tablecloth. Lastly, shoved into the right corner was a small, ramshackle bed for him to curl up and nestle in like an insect at nights when his energy was spent, for all around the room were evidence of his handiwork. There were little toys and contraptions tucked up in the corners, including his namesake, chattering teeth, googly eyes and so on and so on, but these were little compared to all the hats.

Hats, hats, they were everywhere. They were on the several shelves, on the floors, and even on the large table in the centre of the room, ranging from bowler hats, to beanie hats, to wizards' hats, to hats from faraway lands. His card included 'hat enthusiast' and that was the 100% truth. Jack was not entirely sure how this particular collecting hobby truly originated, nor were a lot of ponies, but it may have had something to do with his first and most favourite hat…

The small door to the room opened, and Jack N Box stumbled slowly inside. Without a word and humming a low, sombre tune, he took off his pinstripe jacket first and hung it up on the rack and slowly and with much more care set his feathered cap up on the shelf, in between a Manehattan fedora and a sombrero.

Jack N Box looked, quite frankly, nothing like his mother. Whilst she was a bubbly, well-fed and all-around pink pony, his was a sickly green with a matted black mane and was much scrawnier in frame. The black bangs fell into his face, covering his left eye from sight, leaving the other, gentle blue one free. He figured that instead he must have taken on more from his father, though he could not be too sure, being that his father was not around for him to compare…

"That could've gone better," he said to himself, referring to the clash earlier that day and readjusted some of the hats on the shelf. A worried frown was growing on his little face. "I didn't mean to get them mad. I thought they would've laughed with me. I-It was funny...wasn't it?" The remorseful colt began ringing his hands and walking up and down the small room. "I-I-I mean, it was supposed to be funny. Pies are funny, they always have been funny, so why are they not funny now? I don't understand..."

A series of fuzzy felt thoughts processed through the young colt's head. What was supposed to happen? He sat up on that tree, check. Wait until the time was right and throw a pie at her, check. We all laugh together and drink tea…uncheck.

'I just don't know what went wrong,' he thought now miserably, dropping his head. 'We were all going to have a tea party together...' Jack N Box suddenly livened up and he ran over to his orange jacket on the rack and rummaged through the pockets, searching frantically for something. He soon found it: a pocket watch, one bigger than his hoof and made of polished silver.

"Ooooo, what time is it...I can't be late!" Jack fumbled with the device, nearly dropping it, but opened the lid cover and saw the time. It was exactly six o'clock, as always, and that meant only one thing for him.

"Tea time!"

Faster than a speeding bullet and with more grace than a Canterlot trained ballerina, Jack N Box glided over to the roundish cabinet, turned the key and flung the doors open. Inside were crammed assortments of beakers, bottles and flasks filled with multi-coloured potions and other chemicals, tins of powders, small stacks of papers and documents, warn pencils and other bits and bobs. Oddly amongst the set was a large silver kettle with several funnels and narrow pipes leading down to its open lid along with a tap. First, he turned the tap on high power and filled the kettle three quarters the way up, but at the following stage his mood swung to a far more restrained self and acted with a lot of reprehension when he steadily moved to turn on the Bunsen burners below the flasks and the kettle. It took about four minutes but he soon got them all on and the kettle and the flasks' contents began simmering.

Next, he summersaulted over to his bed, where at the bottom was placed a large brown trunk with the key in the lock like the cabinet. Jack N Box turned the key and tossed the lid open and began tossing out a whole table set consisting of a white and blue ceramic teapot, tea cups, spoons and plates. Each one he tossed miraculously landed on their designated place in front of the chairs with precision. Strangely, there were even tins labelled 'tea bags' and 'sugar' and plates holding cupcakes with different coloured icing stored in his trunk that he also set on the table. He took out a metronome and placed it at the far end and set it off, creating the sound of a continuous 'tick' in the room, and after that, a very old book that had a brown leather cover and a red bound bookmark, which he set down reverently at what most likely was going to his seat at the far end nearest to the door. He pulled out and donned a trench coat so full of patches and stitches that it seemed to hold every shade of green on the spectrum, from a dark pine to a pale jade, allowing his sickly green coat to be camouflaged within the amalgamation and he slid his pocket watch into the left pocket. Along with this he put around his neck a large yellow and red polka dotted bowtie that not only clashed with the green colour coordination but, judging by its size, one could judge as a novelty type. Lastly, Jack took out something and handled it with greater reverence than he did with the book or anything else.

What Jack N Box held in his hooves was a hat, but not just any hat. It was his favourite hat. A tall, oversized, fantastic top hat of a dark green colour with a black leather hatband, in which was stuck a card reading, in cursive writing, 'In This Style, 10/6'. Oddly enough, a part of the hat, the left, appeared darker, almost a black patch where the fabric was rougher or quite possibly charred.

Placing it upon his head, Jack skipped down to the cabinet, where the kettle had reached a boil and the potions were leaking down and dripping into the kettle. Steam was wafting out the open kettle, one of a strong, overwhelming aroma. He grabbed a tin of powder, which he sprinkled into the kettle, creating a series of loud violent sparks. Then turned off all the burners, picked up the kettle and brought it over to the table, where he sat it and himself down at the far end near the door.

"Now, my friends," Jack N Box beamed, opening the lid of tea pot and the tin reading 'tea bags' and popped one inside, before holding the kettle high over his head and pouring the contents down into the pot. "Would any of you care for a cup of tea?"

"Yes, yes, the tea, the tea!" the March Hare cheered in his thick, burly Scottish accent, holding up his cup. "We all must have a cup of tea!"

"Quite right."

Jack N Box inhaled the steam and shuddered and placed the lid back on and poured the tea into both their cups, keeping the teapot as high in the air as he could. He set the teapot back down and they started drinking their tea, and started a conversation. As they talked, both picked up their teaspoons and dumped large lumps of sugar from several tins all labelled 'sugar' into their tea and stirred. The Dormouse was there too, sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head.

"What day of the month is it?" Jack asked, turning to an empty seat at the opposite far end of the table. He had taken his pocket watch from out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it a few times, and holding it to his ear.

Nopony answered, especially not from the empty seat, a large armchair, the kind a stallion would traditionally rest on after a hard day's work.

"Two days wrong..." the colt sighed, although it was hard to tell whether it was because of this or the absence of somepony who was presumably supposed to sitting in that armchair. He added, looking quite angrily at the March Hare, "I told you butter wouldn't suit the works!'

"It was the best butter," the March Hare meekly replied.

Jack N Box was about to go on something about crumbs and a bread-knife and he was mentally considering dipping his watch into his cup of tea, but stopped himself doing all these things and rested the side of his face in his hoof and took another long drought of his tea. There was a long silence that followed, broken only the sipping of tea and the mournful beats of the metronome.

"Suppose we change the subject," the March Hare stated, yawning and stretching his arm. "I'm getting tired of this. I vote the young filly tells us a story."

"The young filly is not here," the colt reminded his companion, having now lost his cheerful attitude, replaced with a growing sadness. "She is never here. Not anymore. Ever."

"Did you not invite her?"

"I...I tried to, but I made a pig's ear out of it," Jack bit hard on his lip and the tea cup and plate both jittered in his hooves. "She...she didn't find the pie funny. She was actually very angry with me! I-I don't think she wants to speak to me at all, for a while."

But the March Hare was not entirely sympathetic. "Well, I did tell you, tossing pies would not be a wise idea, did I not?"

He had to give credit where credit was due. "Yes. Yes, you did," he conceded glumly.

"Perhaps it is best we discontinue our quest for the girl?" The March Hare suggested, his whiskers twitching as he eyed and sniffed feverishly the cakes set out on the table.

Ridiculous. The only word to describe such a suggestion was 'ridiculous', that and 'stupid' and 'idiotic'. Drinking more of his tea, Jack N Box shook his head. "No...no, no, no, no, she will come. One day soon, my Alice will come to tea again. I'll make sure of it."

"If you say so, dear boy," the March Hare replied indifferently and they all drunk their tea again. "Ah, but until that distant day, perhaps you might once again perform your song for us? A little bit of entertainment. We certainly enjoyed it, last time."

The Dormouse suddenly came alive and added, drearily, "Yes...please sing it for us. It will soothe my sore head."

Jack N Box did not need a second invite. He proudly sat up from his chair, took a hold of his trench coat's lapels and giggled, "Heh heh, well, I am well known for having quite the singing voice, eh, lads? Let's see, I think it goes something like this..." Jack cleared his throat elaborately and proceeded to sing in a clear, reedy voice:

"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!

How I wonder what you're at!"

"Up above the world you fly,

Like a tea-tray in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle-"'

"Jack, what're you doing?"

He stopped his singing, and spun on his heel to face the door. Pound Cake was standing there in the doorway, his eyebrow cocked up sceptically and he stared up and down the colt and the room itself. Silence, save for the beating metronome, dominated the little room. Jack mentally berated himself. He forgot to keep the door fully closed and locked!

"O-OH, Pound Cake! I-I-I-I was only, uh...practicing my singing," Jack excused himself incredibly nervously, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest, clenching the rim tightly. "I like to go over nursery rhymes when I practiced."

Pound Cake at least seemed to buy that fish, but took a couple more steps into the room. "Okay then, that's cool, but...I could've sworn I heard you speaking to somepony else. I-Is anypony in here, besides you, I mean?" he took notice of the tea set on the table, the two piping cups in particular. "And it looks like you were having a...tea party, too. Sorry if I interrupted anything."

The younger colt waved his hooves to dispel such a notion. "What? Oh, no, that's crazy talk! I was just, just thinking out loud, and the tea, well...you know I really like my tea." He laughed half-heartedly. "Silly filly!"

It was unclear whether Pound Cake truly believed him or not, nevertheless he shrugged and turned to leave, saying, "Well, all right, sorry to disturb ya. Just...make sure ya keep the door shut next time, 'kay? And, oh yeah...nice hat."

When he closed the door and left him alone, Jack N Box felt the cold sweat running down his face and wiped it off with a tissue stored in his other pocket and set his top hot back on. He let out a sigh of relief and sat back down at the table and unsteadily took another big gulp of his tea, resuming the tea party that had been disturbed by his friend.

The March Hare was not pleased in the slightest. "Well, I do say! Friends, I think I speak for all of us when I say it was not at all civil of that youth to waltz into our tea party without being invited!"

"True, true," murmured the fading in and out Dormouse, "Very rude, indeed."

"Yes, you will have to forgive my friend," Jack put his hooves together and shook his head slowly. "He simply does not understand the first thing about tea party etiquette. Unfortunate, really."

"Quite."

And thus, the tea party continued, though not where it left off as any notion of singing had been forgotten. Tea continued to sipped with the manners fitting the utmost gentlecolt and the group even helped themselves to a cupcake or two, until the hatted colt made himself heard.

"I want a clean cup," declared Jack, after inspecting the tea stained porcelain inside of his now empty cup. "Let's all move one place on." They did just that and Jack N Box chucked down another cup of his special tea. It went on like this until the tea pot was bone dry, and Jack just put the kettle on again.

His tea parties often lasted a long time.

Ow! Mom! Be careful, you're pulling on my follicles!" Drizzilla complained, perched upon a red cushioned stool in front of her vanity mirror. She was wearing a thick fluffy white robe that concealed her little body and had only recently finished a two hour long shower and bath. With those nightly rituals finished, she was now getting ready for early bed.

Rainbow Dash moaned and let her shoulders slump, brushing her daughter's mane at a slower pace than she did before. All the purple goo and crumbs had been successfully washed and shampooed out of Drizzilla's mane, so they were just left with the task of tidying the mane to the point where every single fibre was symmetrically strait.

"For the love of-"follicles"! Quit your whining," Rainbow Dash scolded, giving the red and blue mane a tug and running the brush through it. "You know, you oughta count yourself lucky I'm doing this for you, tonight, especially after the way you acted earlier!"

"Mom, I already told you, it wasn't my fault!" she retorted, crossing her forelegs grumpily, the left one of which was now covered in a fashionable leg warmer. "It was all Precious, Jellybean and that idiot Jack's fault! I didn't do anything!"

The mare roughly readjusted her child's head, searching for more of her mane that remained unbrushed and rolling her pink eyes irritably. "Fine, whatever, you were all at fault then! The fact is you kids can't keep starting World War Three every time we meet up together! I mean, I hardly get enough time to spend time with Twilight and the others as it is. The grownups and I have lives too, ya know."

"Pfft. If you wanted lives, why'd you all have kids, huh?"

Rainbow Dash dragged her hoof down her cheek hard enough it pulled the bottom half of her eye socket. 'Damn it, she's got you there, kid!' She mentally chastised herself.

"I thought so. Now hurry up! I need my cutie sleep," the filly gazed lovingly into her reflection, batting her pretty lashes. "As much as I enjoy admiring myself, I don't have a lot of time to lose." She then picked up some pancake makeup and started applying it around her muzzle, covering up a pale white colour that stood out from the rest of her face. She pretty much wore makeup at all time, even going to bed.

"Sure, no problem," Rainbow Dash responded through gritted teeth. As she finished off her brushing, the Pegasus could not help herself dwelling on her daughter's remark: "If you wanted lives, why'd you all have kids, huh?" The truth was, though she dared not say it straight to her daughter in fear of her using it against her in the future, she never really planned on having foals. It just was not at the top of her priorities list, in fact, it was probably somewhere near the bottom next to 'get a full hooficure'. But as fate would have it, she was landed with her own foal to bring up, at least she initially hoped, in her image and she had to adjust to it, especially considering the girl's...special conditions. Hay, a pony could well argue she still had not. Do not take that to automatically mean she rejected or did not love her offspring, but if you took one look at Rainbow Dash, 'motherly' or 'maternal' would certainly not be words that would jump to your mind. There is actually a lot that needs to be accounted for if you are to successfully evaluate Rainbow Dash as a mother, which we, at the moment, do not have the time for.

"There, done," she sighed, setting the brush down and cocking her eyebrow. "Satisfied?"

Drizzilla dryly examined herself over in the mirror and when she finished, tutted in a tone that pretty much screamed 'what an amateur', "It'll do," she then reached for her sleeping eye mask and hopped off the stool and pranced over to her beautiful white four-poster bed. The whole room was colour coordinated a dazzling baby blue and pearly white, from the tapestries to the sheets on her bed. The white columns were a fine touch as well, a throwback to ancient Pegasi culture.

She climbed up and snuggled herself into the white mattress and baby blue pillows, hoisting the same coloured blankets up to her neck and leaving her covered-up foreleg on top of the blanket. She slipped on the eye mask and sighed long, letting the comfort of her bed take her. Rainbow Dash watched this and felt her heart melt a little. She could not deny it – her baby was more damn cute than other filly in Equestria when she was going to bed...at least in the way she conducted herself. The mare was going to tiptoe out of the room, but the younger of the two would have none of that.

"Eh-hem!" Drizzilla's shrill voice rang from behind her, making her stop. "My humidifiers!"

"Oh you've gotta be…" Rainbow Dash mumbled and did as her daughter said and switched on all the tall lavender humidifiers stationed around the room. She recoiled in disgust at all the different aromas being given off - vanilla, coconut, lavender and jasmine. "Yuck! How do you stand breathing this stuff? I'm out of here!"

"Wait!"

Rainbow Dash felt like she was going to blow up. "Drizzilla, I swear to-what?"

The filly raised her foreleg out from under the blankets and tapped herself on the cheek. Her mother immediately understood and, her anger and frustration subsided, she made her way back to the bed, leaned in and kissed and nuzzled Drizzilla against her cheek, focusing on a soft spot amidst the rough and raggedness of the rest. Drizzilla yearned for more affection, so she pulled her bare arm out from the covers and reached and wrapped it around her mother's neck and hugged her back.

"When's Dad coming home, Mom?" she mumbled into her, speaking in a more pacified tone.

"I already told you: tonight. He might bring you something back from Cantlerot, if you're lucky, although I doubt you'll be awake to see 'em when first gets back."

"Doesn't matter. Besides, I need my cutie sleep," the filly insisted, her angry and impatient tone resurfacing.

Rainbow Dash nuzzled her again. "Sure ya do, honey. I'm going downstairs now, so ya need anything before I go?"

All the little girl managed to murmur (for she was drifting fast to sleep) was something about turning the humidifiers up a bit. Holding her breath, her mother did so, though at this point they were creating a faint haze in the room that distorted her vision slightly. She reached the ajar door and left the room, looking back one last time.

"'night, Drizzilla."

Closing the door, Rainbow Dash sighed and trotted down the hall near silently. Before she descended the staircase, she checked her leg watch; it would be hours before any other filly (as far she was aware of) would be heading off to bed. If there was one benefit to having Drizzilla around, Rainbow Dash would definitely have to pick how the kid had damn good sleeping patterns, though the benefit specifically for the former was all the extra hours she had. Actually, it was not that much of a benefit in practice as she had not much to do all by herself. The main thing she really wanted to do was hang out with her friends, but as she said, time to do that was limited and their kids already loused that up. Soarin' still was not going to home for a while, so any hanky-panky would not be happening for a while, not like she anticipated with much enthusiasm. When ponies, in their endless admiration and devotion to the Wonderbolt, remarked how he was "faster than a speeding bullet", they were right. Still, she took what she could get.

No, she would just do what she normally did on most nights. She took a large tub of chocolate chip ice-cream, parked her flank on the sofa in front of the television, and watched her soaps in between shovelling spoons of the good stuff in her trap.

Spike had made sure to lock up the library for the approaching nighttime. Princess Luna was in the process of raising the moon, yet few ponies were going to sleep just yet, as was the recent and growing trend. You could easily thank that all to the famous swanky Ponyville nightlife, with the bar, casino and restaurant districts (and more discretely, the red-light district) coming to full life as per usual. Unfortunately, some ponies tended to enjoy themselves a tad too much and wound up wandering throughout the rest of the town and causing a ruckus, leaving the police with their hooves full on a nightly basis. These were yet more gifts, depending on your point of view, from the Great Gallop Forward. All this was why the maturing dragon was uneasy about leaving the front door unlocked for Twilight. What if some drunken lout staggered in, thinking it was home or with more…sinister intentions? He acknowledged that these were exaggerations, but they already had more than bottle smashed against the outside wall or a scuffle broke out on their doorstep.

Where was she? She should have been home hours ago from her 'business', but so far, nothing. Not even a phone call. He fed the foal and sent her to bed, playing the musical mobile for her before leaving the nursery. All the lights had been switched off and Twilight's campaign papers, posters and other paraphernalia left as they were. He really wished she could have left them at her campaign headquarters with all the other stuff, but there was no budging Twilight.

Spike decided to go to bed himself, albeit uneasily due not knowing where his friend was or if something had happened or the possibility of somepony breaking in. It was with little surprise that he immediately leaped out of bed at hearing the sound of hoofsteps downstairs and with precaution or likely in some foolish attempt at being a hero, grabbed a large bat and crept down the stairs. But luckily, what he found downstairs on the sofa with a glass and bottle of wine in hooves made him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Twilight? Sorry, I...I didn't hear you come in."

The Unicorn glanced at him through the corner of her eye, little of a reaction to his presence on her face. She was sombre in appearance, emphasised well by how she was drinking wine in the dark.

"Hi, Spike. Sorry I wasn't here, earlier," Twilight apologised in a low, clearly exhausted voice. That and her dithering heavy eyelids indicated how the alcohol was taking affect. "I went to go have dinner at a restaurant – wasn't really that hungry, though. Then I decided to go have a drink, and I wanted another. I then came back here…eventually."

Spike knew his lifelong friend was a responsible drinker and even when she did drink a lot, she did it slowly, so he knew he had little to worry about here. If she had a meal beforehand as well, that was reassuring too. He slithered over the couch next to her and asked with concern, "I haven't seen you since you went off today to see the others. You couldn't have been eating and drinking all that time…were you?"

"No, actually, I...I went to go see Brainy."

"...Oh Celestia...and...?"

"Still as off it as ever...despite what all the doctor's say. I mean, they're deducting it as a severe case of OCD, possibly even Asperger's."

"But...what do you think?"

Twilight lifted her head and stared up at the ceiling contemplatively, waiting a moment or two before answering, "Y-you know, it's funny...even I'm finding it hard to decide what I think about it all anymore, Spike. He gave me one of his riddles, like he always does."

"What was that?"

She pressed her hoof against her sinuses. "Umm...I'll remember it in the morning. I'm too tired, right now."

"C'mon, let's go to bed."

With his assistance and after setting the glass and wine down (Spike would deal with it in the morning), Twilight ascended the stairs.

"Not sure if you want to hear this, right now, but...he called earlier," he told her quietly, with fear of waking the foal, but loud enough to emphasise the 'he' part. "He wants to know a good time for you and him to meet up and discuss...finalizing the papers. I told him to call back, tomorrow."

Twilight scowled at hearing this. "Good. I don't have time for him, right now." A thought occurred to her and she stopped him. "Spike, I wanna kiss her good night."

Spike was reprehensive at first, but nodded, adding, "Okay, but quiet. It took me forever to get her to sleep, tonight."

"Sure."

Entering the nursery as quietly as she could, Twilight approached her daughter's crib and peered affectionately down at the adorable blot of brilliant rose amongst the sea of thick white cotton blankets. Twilight felt her heart melt entirely like butter and leaned down and planted a long delicate kiss on her cheek. The darling thing mewed and, still deep in dreamland, she tilted her head towards her mommy.

Twilight Sparkle felt that feeling of dread gnawing at her insides. It was that she knew if she won the election that drawing closer and closer, how much time would she have to spend with her? Her schedule was already fairly tight as it was. She could imagine how it felt like for her mother, when she spent the majority of her filly years studying under Princess Celestia. All that time she never got to spend with her mother, getting to know her more and simply being with her. The last thing Twilight wanted was to be too busy to not spend enough time with her only daughter, too. With Brainy, the circumstances were different, but she visited him whenever she could and prayed for him to leave that place soon. But with her little girl, she did not have as good an excuse.

She shoved those feelings aside and kept the side of her face gently, lightly pressed against her foal's. She wished in vein this moment would last forever and found herself humming the bars of that lullaby Fluttershy taught them all before the first of the next generation, Brainy, came to be.

"Hush now, quiet now

It's time to lay your sleepy head

Hush now, quiet now

It's time to go to bed."

(a/n) everyone, for those of you who got the clearcut The Big Lebowski references, please don't think of me as stealing from it. Mates, I love The Big Lebowski, it's one of my favourite films of all time. The scene with the CMC was a shoutout to the film, a tribute even, as well as that bowling scene from 'The Cutie Pox'. Remember those Lebowski ponies? Besides, it won't be consistent, I'll probably toss a few more references here and there, but I won't go overboard. It's also a similar situation with Jack's scene with a literary classic I honestly think someone should receive a fist in their philistine face for not knowing which one just by reading the scene, although it has much more depth and significance to the character and plot than the Lebowski references.

Chapter Three

Ponyville:

The Next Generations

Chapter Three

Diamond Manor. Once the home to the wealthy and affluent Diamond family, founders and owners of Barnyard Bargains, the former cornerstone of retail in Ponyville, it was now a rotting and decrepitating monument to the fallen first family of the booming town. The outside walls had dulled in colour and brightness and roots and foliage were growing upwards against them, making it look like the earth itself was trying to engulf and consume the estate and bury it in the past where it belonged. More than a couple of the windows had been smashed, the gates had turned almost completely brown with rust and the gargoyles had mostly either been desecrated by vandals or naturally decayed from lack of tending to them. Just by looking at it, you could tell right away the entire place was a sad relic from a fading past.

The inside was not much to behold, either. Much of the furniture had long since vanished, and most the remainder were covered in tarps, leaving the house mostly hallow with a creepy echo to boot. A thick layer of dust covered the floors, the walls, the banisters and all the remaining furniture, tarp covered or otherwise. The framed photographs and paintings still remained on the walls, but a lot of them had been slashed, even some partially, leaving the image of one mare unscathed. Most of the rooms were now vacant, locked up and left only to further gather dust, but some were still very much active. If you stood outside the estate late at nights, you could easily spot the lights coming from a window at the left-hand corner on the second floor. This was when and where Diamond Tiara would be having her meetings, discussing issues related to her 'business'.

Snips and Snails walked slowly down the hallway on the second floor to this very room, both dressed in snazzy suits, Snip's black and Snails' a greyish blue. They were due at this meeting that very moment, and picked up the pace when Snips checked his watch. Snips knew most of all how Diamond hated it when ponies were late.

"You'd think with all her money, she'd get this place cleaned up," The brilliant amber Unicorn commented, holding a brown briefcase and taking note of the thick coats of dust everywhere. "…just a bit."

"Now look, Snails, I know you're new to this, but be cool," Snips told him as they passed one of the larger slashed up portraits and came nearer to the door. "You're dealing with the big boss of Ponyville herself. The Mayor ain't the one really running the show around here, she is, and whatever she wants, she gets. Those're the two things you need to remember."

"We all went to school together, Snips. I think I can-"

"No, you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you're an idiot," he declared plainly, stopping him when they were right in front of the door, from which a light was shining through the crack. He took the briefcase off him and set it down, then grabbed his lapel and brought him in closer and spoke to him seriously in a quieter voice, "Listen, when we go in there, you do not speak to her unless she speaks to you, and when we get onto the case, you only say what I told you to say, got it?" Snails nodded. "You don't speak to her, you don't bring up her parents, and you don't stare! You got that, you miserable piece of cow dung?" Snails nodded again, this time slower and Snips smirked and adjusted their ties. "Good boy."

The stallion straightened himself up, picked up the briefcase to give to Snails and opened the door, letting more of the light pour into the hallway.

"He did what? "WHAAAT?"

Snips looked back at Snails and muttered, "Oh great. She's pissed off."

They entered the lighted room, which was revealed to be a furnished office best suited for their line of work, or more specifically, the top mare. The soft cream shag carpeting, black draperies and scarlet painted walls all accumulated a business-like aura that circulated around the large black desk in the middle of the room. In comparison to the rest of the rooms in the house, this one was the most cared for. The furniture, the windows, the floors, it all came across as a place that was under routine maid care. But of course Diamond Tiara would want to keep this room in good shape. After all, it was her father's, originally.

Diamond Tiara was sitting at her father's large desk in his black leather chair, using his stationary and drinking his wine, which was perched with a glass on one corner and a thin A4 book in the centre of the desk. A stallion was sitting down in one of the two chairs in front of the desk, appearing utterly miserable the more the mare visibly grew with anger. Oddly enough, from Snails' viewpoint, she sitting so that only one half of her face was seen to everypony else.

She looked a lot like she did when she was younger. She sported the same coat of pink fur and icy blue eyes, but her mane now had more of a fringe to it and her namesake had long since vanished from on top of her head. She was dressed in a slick black female's suit with shoulder pads and bell-bottom trousers and underneath a dark green button-shirt, unbuttoned at the collar to show off a golden necklace.

Positioned all around the room were a total of five tall, strapping stallions dressed in sharp black suits, each of whom stood silently like statues. They actually stood so perfectly still, you might justifiably have thought they were statues. Snails felt a chill run up and down his spine when passing by them. Each one of them looked like they easily kill him with a single punch, and it was likely true. Stallions like these could smell fear and right now, Snails was reeking of it.

"The deal went south, ma'am," the stallion explained, though from his tone he already knew this would do little to calm her down. "He must've thought it his big chance to get rich quick. This guy always has been an opportunist."

"I don't want you to tell me what kinda pony he is! I already know what kinda pony he is!" Diamond Tiara snapped, holding onto the foreleg rests like she was about to tear them off. "My concern here is the damn money! Do you know how much was riding on this deal?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Two million! Two million bits shot right to Tartarus! And who's money is that?"

"Yours, ma'am."

The chair spun around so Diamond Tiara could look him in the eye and Snails could see now why Snips told him not to stare, and was finding it difficult. There was a long, jagged scar running down one side of her face, running down from the top of her ear to near her chin. It was unsightly, to say the least, and there was an unsuccessful attempt to cover it up with makeup, which unintentionally made it stand out more

"My money! Mine!" She yelled and banged her hoof on the desk, shaking everything on the surface, but steadied the wine. "This score was gonna be one of the big ones! A game changer! And now that little punk thinks he can just run off with my bits and laugh in my face!" She looked like she was about to flip the desk over and go into a violent temper tantrum, but somehow managed to calm herself down and pouted. She waited a few moments before speaking again in a deeper, darker tone, "This pony is dead. Take care of him and get my money." Diamond addressed one of the goons without doing as much as glance at him, "Desoto, escort him out."

One of the stallions finally moved from his place and gruffly grabbed the panicking one sitting in the chair by the mane and yanked him off the chair, knocking the latter over. He dragged him off passed the blasse Snips and the stunned Snails towards the door.

"Make sure you drive the message home, Desoto," she added coldly, before the two vanished into the hallway and the door slammed shut.

A deadly silence followed, broken only by the sound of another goon going over to the turned over chair and setting it up right, before returning to his groove in the carpet. Snips and Snails now just stood there in the middle of the room, watching Diamond Tiara whip out a cigarette, complete with pink cigarette holder and a silver Zippo lighter and lit herself one. They said nothing, a lot like the motionless goons in the room with them, making them almost blend in if not for the clear differences in frame and stature.

"Well? What're you waiting for? Take a seat, the both of you."

They sat down in the two seats in front of the task, neither saying a word, but Snails was still having trouble keeping his eyes off the left side of her face, the scarred side. Diamond Tiara continued to smoke in silence, creating a thin grey wisp hanging overhead, until she rolled her eyes onto the greyish opal stallion.

"You're both late," she hissed, checking her own gold watch. "I expected you in my office two minutes ago, exactly."

Snips held his hoof up to Snails when he opened his mouth to silence him, and answered for them both, "We ran into a bit of trouble on the way here. Some punk was showing us some major disrespect and we couldn't sit back and take that, couldn't we, Snails?" He finished with a question to his comrade, who shook his head.

"Whatever. Give me the specs on tonight's shipment."

"Yes, boss," Snips cleared his throat and took a folded sheet of paper out from his breast pocket, unfolded it and read it out, "It's ten cases of assorted 'fakes', all from Diamond Dogs, along with ten cases of burners from our friends in Clawdor, all designed for equine use."

"What kinds?" Diamond Tiara stood up and walked across to one end of the desk, showing her scar still to Snails' unease.

"A variety. As this is a still relatively new and emerging market, we've got all kinds: revolvers, berettas, desert eagles, shot guns. We'll best be able to find the flavour in the market through this." Snips checked the specs again and added hastily, "It's all bought and paid for, so this is strictly a delivery, not a buy."

She took her cigarette holder from her pursed lips and blew a stream of smoke. "Fine. Just as long as it goes off without a hitch, otherwise, it's your horn…" Diamond said that last part slowly, for her attention had turned to Snails. She glared at him. "You. New guy."

"Ma'am," Snails said, putting up a more professional composure as Diamond Tiara walked around the desk and stood right in front of him.

"Don't be nervous, Snails. We went to school together." The stallion was calmed by this recognition, but this was quickly replaced by fear when Diamond Tiara moved her face right into his and she hissed with a voice overflowing with venom. "But if you keep staring at my face like that...I'm gonna rip that bucking horn off your bucking head."

His eyes darted away and, probably not knowing where else to look, focused to his left. Although Diamond Tiara recoiled, she pulled back her hoof and punched him square on his large, prominent muzzle, sending him and the chair to the floor, yelling in pain. Snips shook his head and a few of the goons grinned.

Acting like nothing had happened, Diamond Tiara whisked her mane and went back and sat down at her desk. She put out her cigarette in a glass ash tray, which was already filled with ash and cigarette butts. The pink Earth pony peered over the desk and asked contemptuously, "So are you gonna tell me what's in that briefcase, or are one of my boys gonna have to take you outside?" She motioned to the remaining four thug stallions, and all of them swivelled their heads so they faced the scrawny stallion on the floor.

Snails groaned and held his bloodied muzzle, but got up, regardless of the pain searing across his face. The last thing he wanted was for one Diamond Tiara's goons to get his hooves on him.

"Yes, ma'am," he picked up the briefcase and opened it on his lap. He took out a brown file folder and laid it out open on the desk. "We went out and did our research on this Mister Cobbletrot, just like you told us."

The mention of that name made Diamond Tiara's face contort. Having now regretted putting out her last cigarette, she lit another and asked, glaring at the folder Snails, "And…?" Was he honestly expecting her to read all this crap herself?

He stammered and pulled the file towards himself and started reading it out, "W-well, this…this stallion, a Mister Pipsqueak Cobbletrot, he's been-"

"What did you say his first name was?"

Diamond Tiara's mood swung, and she was now pressing her hooves so hard against her desk that any harder, she would make cracks it. Her teeth were clenched so hard the cigarette holder was shaking in place.

"P…Pipsqueak, ma'am. I think he was in school with us back in the day, as well. Well, actually, it says here he's often referred to as 'Pip', nowadays, but I dunno if you wanna-"

"WHO DOES THAT LITTLE BUCKER THINK HE IS?" Diamond Tiara suddenly screamed furiously, jumping up from her chair and throwing her hooves in the air, scaring the hay out of the stunned Snails, whilst Snips and the other goons remained calm and silent. "What? I mean-WHAT? I thought this guy was one of the other older brothers! Not THAT little piece of…gimme his picture." Snails took the black and white profile picture and hoofed it to her. She stared at it a second and her temper spiked again. "It is! It is that RUNT! WHAT THE BUCK?" She raised her forelegs and swept her stationary, mostly pens and papers off her desk, sending them landing lamely on the shag carpet. She then looked over at one of the goons, the shortest of the four. "You. Hold still..."

The goon knew what was about to happen and silently accepted it like he did every other time. He breathed in, kept still, closed his eyes and braced for impact when Diamond Tiara ran up to him and plunged her hoof into him. He bore the brunt of the raw pain that followed and did not dither from the spot, nor even whinny when the boss pulled back and punched again and again and again.

Taking her anger out of this pony punching bag pacified Diamond Tiara enough for her to bark over her shoulder to Snails, "Well? I didn't tell you to stop reading! What business is the little bucker in?"

"Ever since he's been back in Ponyville, he's taken up his old stallion's reins at the Bloody Hooves. Hear it's doing very well under him. And, of course, other family members are taking care of businesses for him. His brother is overseeing something to do with boxing, and-"

"No shit, Sherlock! I was talking about his REAL money! What's his damn racket!"

Sweat was now rolling down Snail's face like bullets. "F-From what we've gathered, he's picking up his old stallion's mantle, creating a bit of a buzz in underground gambling, protection, and I hear he's already getting a hoof-hold into the firearms racket. No matter how you slice it, he's not setting out to be some small time player."

Diamond Tiara's face was now so scrunched up that Snails could swear it was going to tear right off, exposing the red underneath. She was prepared to give the goon another blow, but decided 'screw it' and trudged back to her chair, a sense of depression growing inside her like a bad case of heart burn.

She pinched her sinuses (as best she could with hooves) and muttered things one might decipher as "Why me?" and "This can't be happening to me," for a minute or two.

None of the stallions uttered a word, until Snails mustered the courage to offer, though meekly, "Well...maybe we're jumping the gun here. I mean, we don't really know for sure if he's a threat just yet. Who knows? Maybe we could do businesses with him." He honestly did not know what prompted him to come out with this. Maybe his brain went on autopilot, or maybe he just yearned for his ideas to be heard and rewarded so badly, he subconsciously went 'what the hay' and blurted.

But the goons in the office did not seem impressed, judging by how a couple ran their hooves down their faces and how Snips audibly slapped his hoof against his forehead. But what really sealed it was when Diamond Tiara nonchalantly picked up her glass ashtray, weighed it in her hoof and hurled it straight into Snails' head. It did not break, but it left a bleeding gash on his forehead and painted his suit with ash and cigarette butts. This time, the stallion flapped his hoof over his forehead, threw back his head and let out a loud shriek of pain.

Diamond Tiara remained unfazed by this and told him in a voice that contrasted with her previous violent action, "Listen up, Snails, you are not a lion, you are a lamb. You're a lamb now, you're always gonna be a lamb, and I'll rip you a new one if you ever try and make yourself out to be anything higher. Understood?"

Snails still held his forehead and held back his pain induced tears and bit his tongue, seething through a clenched jaw, "Yes, ma'am. Crystal."

"Good boy. But getting back to Cobblepot-"

"Cobbletrot, boss," Snips quickly corrected her.

"Right, whatever. I want him watched 'round the clock. I wanna know every deal he makes, every bit he gets his little hooves on, and everything from what he eats to where he sleeps. Get your boys to monitor everything."

"Couldn't we just go up and shoot 'em?" Snails clearly had not learned a thing from his last two beat downs.

"Snips, hit him," Diamond Tiara deadpanned. "And hit him really hard."

The greyish opal stallion socked his colleague up the head without hesitation. He was feeling pretty pissed at him, too. They had only been in this meeting for a few minutes and he had already done everything Snips had told him not to do.

"If you want, boss, I can undertake this for ya. I'll get my best ponies working on it, right away."

This sudden offer made the big boss blink, but she accepted it. "Just make sure I get a full update every week..." There was one last period of silence before she then ordered the four goons and Snails, "Okay, all of you get the hay out of here, 'cept you, Snips. I wanna talk with you in private."

Slowly, the goons shuffled out the door, trailed behind by Snails, who was now tending to both wounds on his face. He was the last one out and shut the door, leaving Diamond Tiara and Snips alone together. He may have been none the wiser or was too preoccupied with his face bleeding to think about it, but the others knew the score and it was written on the

Diamond Tiara smiled slyly and got up from the chair, running her hoof gently along the desk surface's edge. Her mood had once again swung, this time to a more calm state, but unlike those last times, it was not forced. She genuinely looked rather cheerful and uplifted, and that was saying something when one considered she was beating the living hay out of one of her goons just minutes before.

"You certainly need to keep on training that circus monkey of yours, Snips," she smirked and giggled gently. "I wasted a perfectly good ashtray there."

"It won't happen again, boss," said Snips plainly, seemingly not taking notice of the way she was walking or how she was looking at him. He kept his eyes forward and relaxed into his chair. "I'll beat some respect into 'im. He's an idiot, sure, but he can be trained a few tricks, don't worry about it."

"Of course I won't worry. Why would I?" She perched her flank on the desk edge, and began refilling her glass of red wine. "I mean, you are my number one stallion, right? Why else would you carry out the most important jobs?"

"Sure thing, boss."

The pink Earth pony continued her warm smile and shook her head gently, chuckling, "Oh, come on, Snips! Number one stallion, remember? You can call me Diamond Tiara, or just Tiara, if you'd like." She downed her glass in an instant and slightly jolted.

"Sure thing...Tiara."

"Wine?" Diamond Tiara asked, having already refilled the glass halfway.

Snips cocked an eyebrow. "Only see one glass."

Diamond Tiara smirk grew, but covered it up by holding the glass close to her lips. "I don't mind sharing, number one stallion."

He was not an idiot. Right away, when she asked him to stay behind, he knew what her intentions were, but knew it best not to accuse her of it. He said nothing at first, but then sighed with a small grin, "Tiara, you know I've already got a thing going on with this other mare."

Her face hardened, but her smile remained and she replied simply, "Yeah...but I'm your boss."

"Can't argue with that," Snips sniggered, shrugging and taking the glass from Diamond Tiara. He had himself a drink, and a second, and then a third, as did she. Realizing they had sucked up every last drop, she brought out a second, taller bottle and they polished that one off quick. It was not long before the wine tightened its grip on Snips' head and he found himself enjoying Diamond Tiara's company more. He noticed her slender legs, her rounded flank and that head of luxurious violet and white mane he just wanted to reach out and stroke, which he did. He didn't even mind it when she sat down on his lap, wrapping her forelegs around his thick neck and let fell her locks over him.

When you're Diamond Tiara's number one stallion, you're entitled to certain...privileges.

Outside on the steps of Diamond Manor, Snails was growing impatient. A light shower was starting over Ponyville and the stallion was feeling the chill, he wrapped himself tight in his black trench coat and stepped to shield himself under the short door canopy. Snails had been in Diamond Tiara's office for a while now, nearly twenty minutes. What the hay where they talking about, up there? And why couldn't he be there, even if just to listen in silence?

The front door open, nearly making fall back and he turned to see Snips standing there, dressed up in his black trench coat and smoothing out his hair and adjusting his tie. He looked a little flushed, which did not make sense to Snails, considering how it was pretty mild inside the house.

"Took ya long enough," he complained, giving him an irritable glare. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

"Shuddup," he said gruffly, shoving past him and leading the way down the cobblestone pathway, placing his fedora on top of his fat head while Snails adjusted his own.

"What were you and the boss talking about?"

"None of your damn business!" Snails snapped over his shoulder and raised his coat's collar. "Now hurry up, we got dates with two fine mares at, remember?" The two had booked a dinner at one of Ponyville's many swanky four star restaurants, treating their girls to a good night out.

Snails shook his head. "We're gonna be late, dude. You were so long up there, it'll take a miracle to get there in time."

This did not bother Snips, who waved it off, sneering, "We'll just use the 'some punk' excuse. Sweetie Belle and Twist'll buy it." He opened the rustic gates and let Snails go through first. "After all, the boss did. Ha-ha!"

The Bloody Hooves was not just another nightclub. It was the nightclub; pretty much the first one to spring up in Ponyville and as such, was well revered by all partying ponies of the town and anypony visiting town, be it businesses or pleasure. The two-story, 12,800-square-foot establishment, situated deep within the town's wood and concrete maze, catered to all kinds, acting as a restaurant, lounge and even as a place to do a bit of gambling. It had something for everypony there.

It all started with a tough, burly stallion by the name of Alfie Cobbletrot from the East End of Trottingham who moved to Ponyville many years prior to the Great Gallop Forward. He opened the Bloody Hooves initially as a Trottingham-style bar, or 'pub' as it was called in his home city. Its surge in popularity was unprecedented and in no time, the Bloody Hooves was packed nearly every night, booming with loud music and drunken roars and guaranteeing not a wink of sleep for anypony living in the surrounding area. The popularity led to greater revenue and as a result, the pub expanded and eventually rose to the status of a nightclub and finally, around the time of his smoking-induced death, the institution it was to this day, with its name lit up in red neon lights.

At the front half of the Bloody Hooves, the part most viewed by the public eyewas its sophisticated front. The overall theme of the place was a clash between the slick, suave modern and a throwback to Trottingham culture, including tapestries, paintings and relics dedicated to its rich history and a muted colour scheme to try and give an air of modesty. Whilst in the hooves of an amateur this could have been a hideous mess, the Bloody Hooves pulled it off just right. What really completed this set was the stage at the far end, where talented performers would entertain the guests and provide the smooth, laidback mood tjat was accustomed to the nightclub. This legitimate front was frequented not just by Ponyville's finest, but Equestria's finest, including such names as Fancy Pants and Jet Set, and brought to its owner a substantial level of status and prestige.

However, beyond all that glitz and glamour, the Bloody Hooves had its darker side, too. Officially, a lot of back half of the building, which faced an alleyway and a few dull and mostly abandoned buildings was mostly either being disused or used for office space. That was what was typed on paper. Yet the reality was most different. It was true there were back offices, but the back part of the Bloody Hooves was also where the "real" money was made through more, to put it mildly, illegitimate means. As a result of its coexistence with its popular other half, it earned an unimaginative but honest nickname on the streets; 'the real Bloody Hooves'.

Applejack was standing outside the back entrance of the Bloody Hooves in the dingy alleyway behind the building. The stench of the place – weeks old rubbish, rain soaked mud and urine - running up her nostrils was enough to make her shudder and wretch. The aging mare was carrying a satchel over her shoulder which weighed heavily and put strain on her already bad back.

The back entrance was a large black door upon a few steps and beneath a semi-circular sign that read the nightclub's name in dark green letters. Applejack knocked the door a third time, her patience and tolerance of the alleyway's conditions running thin. A slot on the door finally opened and AJ saw a pair of menacing eyes making contact with hers.

"Password?" A deep gruff voice came from behind the door.

"Password?" She asked, sounding baffled and scratched her head. "What dang password?"

The pair of eyes rolled irritably and replied as if stating the absolute obvious, "The one you're supposed to say to get in this side. Thos're the rules, I'm afraid, love."

"Ah wasn't told 'bout no password. Look, ah'm here to see Mr. Cobbletrot."

The pair of eyes widened, before they squinted shut and a loud, mocking laugh erupted beyond the door. He then calmed down and glared at her and the voice asked in a more serious tone, "Are you 'avin' a laugh? Nopony just sees Mr. Cobbletrot!"

"Ah have an appointment."

He did not seem at all convinced. "Oh, is that right? What's ya name?"

"Applejack."

"…'old on."

The slot slid shut and Applejack was once again alone in the putrid alleyway. Roughly three minutes later, the sound of locks coming undone could be heard and the black door creaked open, just enough for Applejack to squeeze through.

Inside the back of the Bloody Hooves, the smell of the place hit the mare like a bat against the back of her head. Cigar smoke, velvet and from she could gather, the stench of some highly illegal substances. The place was incredibly dark, shrouding a lot of the walls and the furniture, despite the multi-coloured lights (mostly different hues of purple and pink) flashing at every second, which were being partly distorted by thick overhanging cloud of cigar and drug smoke. She naturally did not notice it at first, but this part of the Bloody Hooves was originally part of the pub the whole place started as. It must have been, for Applejack could not shake the feeling that she had been here before.

The doorpony, a seedy-looking and heavyset stallion wearing a black zip up jacket, pointed his hoof down the dark room in the direction in front of him and told Applejack gruffly, "Mr. Cobbletrot's down there. He's sittin' in a big red booth, you can't miss it."

"Thank you."

Applejack tried her best to drown out the loud music as she made her way deeper into the enormous room, thinking about how it was possible that nopony at the front could hear this. Of course, she had only managed to get into the front of the Bloody Hooves with her friends in a group a hooffull of times as long as it had been a nightclub (times which she know deeply regretted), but she did not recall any complaints of loud noise.

Her thoughts broke from this when she narrowly avoided bumping into a pair of mares chatting up a stallion at one of the bars with cigarettes and cocktails in hooves. She recognized them as Surf and Turf, a couple of true valley girls whom Applejack, in all honesty, did not have much love for. Simply looking at them made this dislike grow further; they both had foals to bring up and were still wildly partying every night like they were still spoiled bratty teenagers. If it weren't for their parents' money, they would have starved to death long ago, or at least that was how Applejack saw it.

She tried to keep focus on the task at hoof; make the drop off to Cobbletrot and get out. But she was finding it hard to find the red booth the doorpony told her about. The more she looked about, the more she got used to the surroundings and made out more of this large room. There were many bars, tables and chairs (many of which were made from leather), open doors leading into other rooms. What really struck her was a striking difference to the front, besides the obvious, that whilst the front was more organised, with its services more divided, the back was more jumbled. Bars, gambling tables, spots for ponies to sit down on a bean chair and smoke a fine hookah pipe; it was all meshed together, producing something pretty ugly.

Finally, she found it. The big red semi-circular booth was on top a short platform surrounded by red velvet rope and under a dim light. A group of ponies and a diamond dog were sat there, drinking from large glasses and smoking from a tall, ornate silver plated hookah pipe. From where she was standing, Applejack could definitely make one of these out to be Pipsqueak Cobbletrot.

She stepped closer and hesitantly reached to undo the rope, but another pony appeared almost out nowhere in front of her, glaring daggers at her.

"And what's all this about?"

'Ugh! Not again!' Applejack thought bitterly, feeling she was in a reply from minutes before. "It's me, Applejack. Ah'm here ta see ya boss!"

The pony's expression changed to a softer one, saying, "Oh, alright then." He then called over his shoulder to the booth, "Oi, Mr. Cobbletrot! Apple's 'ere to see ya!"

"Send 'er up!"

He undid the velvet rope and politely stood aside to let Applejack in, to which she nodded in appreciation and entered the cut-off slice of the room. She ascended the platform and approached the booth with caution, where she could make out more the ponies and diamond dog sitting there.

There were two young gorgeous mares, dressed in tightfitting, brightly coloured clothes, near enough either drunk or drugged out of their minds, probably both, and whom were giggling nonsensically nonstop. A portly light greyish young stallion, dressed up in a white suit and shirt, a black waistcoat and a red tie was sat at the right-hand end, tucking into a large bowl of fruits, mostly oranges and pears. A second stallion of a similar age, dirt brown in coat and taller and well-built in comparison to his companion, was wearing an all back attire (suit, tie and shirt) and plainly taking breath puffs from the hookah hose. The diamond dog, sitting at the end of the left, was an enormous monster of a white bullterrier, wearing a tight blue denim jacket, the sleeves of which had been torn off a long time ago. He was preoccupied with chugging a stein of beer down his throat in loud, boorish gulps.

Smack-dab in the middle of the booth was the young Mr. Pipsqueak Cobbletrot himself, current owner of the Bloody Hooves. He looked a lot like he was as a colt, not just because of his same white and brown pinto pattern coat, but mostly in the sense that for a stallion his age, he was still very short. If you did not know any better, you might have made the seriously fatal error of mistaking him for still a colt. Little Pip was all wrapped up in a black leather coat lined with smooth black fur, possibly a sheepskin, over a white shirt, tight grey waistcoat and a gaudy black jabot with white polka dots. The two voluptuous mares were busy fawning over him, clinging onto his shoulders and running their hooves up down his chest.

They were all having multiple conversations at once. What caught Applejack's attention, however, was not the conversation itself (which included some of the most offensive vulgarities she had grown accustomed to in establishments like these in Ponyville) but the way they talked. The majority of them shared the same peculiar accent that was not native to Ponyville. It was one that was found within the rough parts of Trottingham, in particular the East End and amongst some clans of Diamond Dogs. She believed it was called 'cockney'.

Pipsqueak Cobbletrot did not seem fazed at seeing the farm pony standing in front of his private booth. He took the big, thick stogie he was puffing out from between his lips and addressed Applejack in a much deeper, raspier voice than one might think he would possess, caused by his love for cheap, large cigars, "'ave a seat. And take ya hat off."

She did as she was told and sat down next to the portly stallion, who edged up a bit and took his bowl of fruit with him. Applejack was glad. She hated pears.

"A mighty nice place ya'll got here," she complimented and took off her hat, trying to create a good mood.

"Yeah…and I think you got me some bread and honey, am I right?" He pointed his stogie at the satchel she still had on her person.

"Bread and honey?"

The portly stallion answered her, his mouth half full of pear, "Money. Bits, love."

Applejack sighed out through her muzzle and took the satchel off her shoulders and set it open on the table, remarking, "Ah don't see why ya'll couldn't have sent some of ya boys ta pick it up."

"Business sometimes makes that difficult, Mrs. A. Besides, I often enjoy meetin' my clients up close. Makes thing a lot less…" he struggled for the right word for a moment. "Impersonal, that's it."

Cobbletrot motioned the fat pony to take the satchel, and he did and started rummaging through its contents, counting the thick wads of bit notes. Just a precautionary step to make sure Applejack did not pull one over on them.

"You should be glad, Apple," said Cobbletrot in reference to Applejack's downcast expression, and who took a drink from a tall, frothy mug one of his girls hooved to him. "I think you're the only pony who's actually reached her last debt repayment."

"Ah'm a mare of mah word. Ah told ya you can trust me."

A toothy grin pulled on Cobbletrot's face and regailed, twirling his cigar in his hoof, "Like I 'aven't 'eard that one before. The last poor chap who said that was, unfortunately, a liar and if there's one thing I 'ate, it's liars. So my lad 'ere, Bull's-eye…" He nudged his head over at the diamond dog, who was still drinking indifferently to anypony else. "He took 'im back inta 'ere and he decided ta make sure he never lied again. You wanna know how?"

"How?"

"Simple. He got his dirty little tongue out! Huahahahahaha!" The pinto stallion threw back his head and let out an uproarious cackle, chorused by his girls. The diamond dog, Bull's-eye sniggered maliciously and even the stoic looking stallion next to him cracked a grin. Applejack was not entirely sure how to react to that other than chuckle quietly and uneasily.

By the time the laughter stopped, the portly stallion had finished counting the money and nodded at Cobbletrot, saying in a wheezy voice, "It's all 'ere, Pip."

"Well, then…you're all paid up, Mrs. A. Good for you." Cobbletrot chopped back into his stogie and took another few puffs. "I take it then that I won't be seeing you lurking around the Bloody Hooves any time soon, then?"

"Ah think not," she replied calmly, looking relieved in contrast to when she entered the nightclub and holding up her hat, about to put it on. "Ah think ah've learnt my lesson about getting in deep. Besides, ah've gotta head home. Doc says ah need more rest."

But when Applejack made the move to get up, she found herself halted by Bull's-eye, who stood up first and held his paw up to her, sternly signalling her to keep her flank where it was.

"Not so fast," Cobbletrot cautioned with a sly smile. "We got other business to talk about, Mrs. A."

The farmer pony could not believe her ears and a nervous composure took hold of her. She began stuttering, "W-w-what're ya talkin' about? Ya said this was mah last debt. I-"

He put his hooves up to tell her to calm down and stifled a chuckle. "Relax, relax, it is, it is. I'm talkin' about something else." Cobbletrot then proceeded to talk with a tone of voice that despite his short stature, fully managed to made him come across as somepony to be taken seriously. "Ya see…I consider myself a big-time player. There're only so many bits you can squeeze out of pony's 'ooves with a place like this. I'm tryin' to move beyond inta more…prosperous areas of business. I need the help of hardworking ponies like you, Mrs. A."

"Oh, no, ah don't wanna get involved in anythin' illegal!"

Cobbletrot and his merry band howled again with laughter at the very notion. He assured the mare as he went on to explain his proposition, "No, no, no, nothing like you're thinking. Maybe I used the wrong word. I don't mean 'help' as much as I mean 'cooperation'. To put it bluntly, all I want from you is to go about your daily business, sellin' your apples as usual, but at the end of week, I want you to kick up a nice, thick slice of the profits to me." There was a wicked gleam to his eyes accompanying the grin that showed off his long set of tobacco stained teeth.

She gasped, holding her hoof to her mouth, "You're extortin' me?"

"Now did I say that?" He asked her, but then directed the question to his companions. "Girls, did I say that?" They obediently shook their heads. "Porker, Sikes, Bull's-eye, did I ever use that word?" Neither of the three said "yes" and either shook their heads of mutter something along the lines of "no". "Thought not. Mrs. A, my dear, what I'm offering you is, in exchange for this slice, top-notch protection from my boys and I. They're rough 'round the edges, sure, but they can keep you, your business and your family nice and safe."

"But ah can't afford it!" She protested, though the futility of it was glaringly obvious. "Ah'm already paying up to Diamond. Ah've barely been able to scrap a living with both mah debts to you and paying for her 'protection'. How am ah supposed ta give ya both a cut?"

Cobbletrot's face scrunched up and he snarled, "Eh? Buck Diamond Tiara! She's a nopony. Thing is, you ain't payin' to 'er, anymore. The only pony you're paying to from now on is me!"

"She won't like that."

"I know, and I'm glad. But 'ere's the beauty part: not only do you get protection from 'accidents', but equally effective protection from Diamond Tiara's clowns, as well," he explained, sounding pretty confident, before taking notice of how his stogie was nearly used up and flicked it away. One of the mares pulled out another cigar and the other a lighter and set him up. "Now is all this made clear or do I need to repeat myself at all? Because, keep this in mind, I'm not askin' you to pay up to me, I'm straight up tellin' ya."

"Yeah, ah understand...guess ah don't have much say in the matter, do ah?" She got a simple headshake in response and she anxiously tapped her hooves against the table and bit her lip. She gulped and asked the dreaded question, "How much ya want?"

By now, Pipsqueak seemingly had lost interest in the Earth pony and was relaxing himself into the soft backrest and enjoying the company of his mares more. He jabbed his stogie at the portly stallion, murmuring, "Porker...show 'er."

Porker, the fat stallion sitting next to her, took something out from his inner breast pocket and gave it to Applejack. It was small white card with something written on one side. She read it, expecting the worst, but she then went wide-eyed and looked genuinely surprised.

"Are ya'll serious? Ah mean...really?" Applejack was so baffled that her vocabulary had been cut down to only a page or two.

"A lot better than those rat scraps Diamond leaves you, right, right?"

"Sure. It's mighty...generous."

"Glad you see it that way," Cobbletrot said proudly and took a swig of high priced alcohol. "Bull's-eye, escort Mrs. A out. Unless she wants ta stick around an' play some cards, that is. Who knows? We just might be able ta shake whatever bits she's got left from her! Huahahahahahahaha!" This was followed by another uproarous bellow of laughter with his boys and minxes.

The diamond dog begrudgingly set his stein down and did as his boss told him to. Under his guide, Applejack was quickly led out of the Bloody Hooves back door and back into the wreaking alley with the door slamming hard behind her.

Applejack just stood there in the alley again for what must have been at least five minutes. What had only just transpired within the course of some minutes left the farmer pony so mixed in her feelings that she did not really know how to respond to it. On one hoof, she had paid off her gambling debts, all without anypony within her family finding out she even had gambling debts to begin with. But on the other hoof, she found herself still under Cobbletrot's hoof and paying "protection" as they put it to him. Yet even as an upside to that, at least it would no longer be going towards Diamond Tiara, of all ponies, anymore and the split Cobbletrot was offering – no, 'telling' – her was far more beneficial for her and her family. But why would Cobbletrot make such an offer? She knew it best not to dwell on it. You don't question the pony who can send ponies to your house. Bad ponies. Bad ponies with guns. At least her current predicament with the chickens would not be made any worse by this. In fact, it probably made it easier. Keeping a hoofhold in the market was not the only reason she needed those blasted creatures, despite what she told her son earlier that day.

Trotting down the street, passing by all the neon lights that lit Ponyville up like the Los Pegasus Strip, Applejack's mind returned to how she ended up in a tricky financial situation such as this to begin with. She never reckoned herself a gambler, but like with hundreds of other ponies, she was lured in with the enticing promise of achieving great wealth by a simple game of chance. Do not take that as Applejack having abandoned her values of hard work. She truly found the prospect winning a few extra bits worth the risk, especially by how she could use them: replacing Granny Smith's false hip with one that would actually last and pay for some much needed fixing-up of the farm buildings. Unfortunately for her, neither was she that good at it, but she also found it horrifyingly addictive. As the debt mounted up and brushing off the pleas and reasoning of her friends, Applejack went on until she had not a bit left to wager at the end of her sixth visit to the Bloody Hooves. The full realization of what she had done made her feel less than a pimple on a flea and from that last poker game forward, she swore to work extra hard to pay back her debts, that and make sure nopony in her family ever found out what she had been doing.

A scream in the dark. Applejack spun her head in its direction, and although she could see it, she could tell where it was coming from; a nearby alleyway. The sound of the screams and pleading and a continuous thudding made her realize a pony was being mugged or worse. Years ago, she would have jumped right into action, but the weight in her lower abdomen stopped her from taking a single step forward. What could she do? She could not see it happening and if she tried something daring, or stupid, she could end up with hot lead or a cold blade inside her. She could put her unborn foal in danger. So Applejack did the only remotely useful thing and galloped as fast as she could to the nearest phone booth and called the police.

Her walk home felt as long as it did before. The police arrived a while after the perpetrator had fled and soon discovered the crime scene and the victim; a young mare in a tight red dress who had taken a serious beat down, judging the hoof-marks and large bruises on her person. She was alive but needed to get to a hospital and luckily, she survived the attack. The cops later deducted she was a hooker and the pony who had beaten her up and fled before they arrived was her boss. Applejack did not know whether to be disgusted with the mare for her job or feel sorry for being brutally attacked,, though she was certainly bemused when one of the police officers told her that in hind-sight, she probably should have called an ambulance instead of them, due to how unlikely they would be able to catch the attacker. The only thing she kept thinking to herself, even as she approached Sweet Apple Acre's gates was how something like this would never have happened ten years ago, but still, there was a sinking guilt she could not ignore. What happened back there, coupled with being extorted by a stallion more than ten years her junior made her feel so...useless and old.

Applejack returned to the house, washed up and went to bed, being careful not to wake up everypony else. She crawled into bed and slumped her heavy head against her pillow, curling up to her husband, Caramel and shared their body warmth. She scrunched her face up at accidentally inhaling some of his breath. He had been drinking whisky tonight, again.

She laid there in her bed, wide awake for an hour, until she at last went to sleep, wishing how all her problems would disappear by tomorrow morning.

Chapter Four

Ponyville:

The Next Generations

Chapter Four

Drizzilla curled up grumpily in her chair at her family's table outside the café under the large lemon coloured parasol, snuggled into another of her fluffy coats, a thick black one and frumpy stockings. The air was cold and biting again and the polluted air was still shrouding the sun, sucking the brightness and colour out of the town.

Her parents were in the middle of bickering for the umpteenth time that day. She did not really listen to it, for she was busy in her own little world, but picked up snippets.

"Fleetfoot cheated! He always cheats! He made me look like an idiot!"

"Oh, just admit it, Soarin'! You-"

Drizzilla felt her left foreleg shiver and tucked it against her belly for warmth. She had put on double layers today, it did not make sense. The weather did not exactly help. She loved the winter for its delicate beauty, but needed the warmth of the summer sun to feel comfortable, and right now, she could really do with it. Her face also felt tight, but that she could attribute mostly to all the layers of makeup she put on, only made more uncomfortable by the crispness of the air. Above both of these, though, she all around felt like dung from the moment she forced her eyes open and her body out of bed. She could not miss today out.

"Drink your tea, Drizzilla," instructed her mother and she reluctantly sipped a bit, if only just to give her a bit of warmth. She actually hated tea, but her mother always ordered it for her.

The family was "enjoying" one of their occasional days out together when Soarin' was home. Drizzilla cherished this precious, sparse time with her father and her, but most of that time was gobbled up by his and her mother's nonstop arguments, leaving Drizzilla waiting in silence in the background and having to listen to their garbage, despite that sometimes it got rather entertaining.

There was a sudden heaving in her chest, starting small but growing bigger until it gripped her chest like a vice. Grasping her chest with her hoof, she turned expectantly, desperately to her mother, who saw this and rolling her eyes, took out a thick wad of tissues and hoofed them to her. She snatched them and coughed the bitter fluid up through her mouth into them, trying her best to keep it quiet as possible so to avoid any unwanted attention. When she was finished, her father asked if she was alright, to which her mother answered for her, and the girl stared at the dark green liquid in the tissue a moment and scrunched it up and tossed it into the ashtray. She did a double take to make sure nopony had been watching and she found herself lucky this time. The parents, meanwhile, had returned to their bickering and boredom returned to her in no time.

She picked something up from the table in her right hoof, which she had picked up at a nearby stand out of curiosity. It was a leaflet for the 'Annual Little Miss Ponyville Pageant', the one she had been talking about with her "friends" the other day. The deadline for entry was in a couple of days and the pageant itself was two weeks tomorrow. It included the standard segments like talent, question and answers, etc. but Drizzilla quickly trailed off and set the leaflet back down. Her boredom led to fatigue and she found herself slowly drifting off in her seat, creaking forward and her eyes ajar.

"Come on, honey, mommy needs to get going," Rainbow Dash suddenly spoke, catching the filly off guard and bringing her back to life. She added with a strong hint of disapproval, taking notice of her fatigue look, "Ugh, can't we go anywhere without you dozing off?"

Drizzilla's father defended her, sighing with aggravation as they all got up, "Lay off her, Rainbow."

They all walked down the street, having finished their drinks, the parents discussing what was going to happen next, whilst the daughter trailed behind in between them. Apparently, Rainbow Dash had this really important interview she was doing with a big time newspaper or something like that and she had to leave the group to partake in it.

"I'll meet you guys back home in a couple of hours," Rainbow Dash told them, spreading out her wings and getting ready for take-off. "With any luck, this'll be over with sooner than I think."

"Can't I go with you?" Even before Drizzilla asked, she already knew the answer. Why did she even bother? Maybe only to just prove a point?

Rainbow Dash looked at her daughter as if she were spouting utter nonsense. "Don't be dumb, Drizzilla, you know I can't do that!" She saw her frown and added, a bit rushed, "I-I mean…come on. It's about me, honey. You'll be bored outta your mind."

"Uh-huh…sure."

"…anyway, I'll see you later." With that, Rainbow Dash spread out her wings and took off, a rainbow streak following behind her, leaving the father and daughter alone.

There was awkward silence for the first ten seconds, until Soarin' turned and led the way down the street sidewalk, heading in the direction of the market. He looked back once to beckon his daughter. "Well? Comin' or not, kiddo?"

She grumbled something incoherent and followed her father down the street and into the market which nowadays was bustling to an extent that was unheard of in earlier years, with faces old and new and of varying species. You could spot amongst the ponies creatures of all kinds like griffins, diamond dogs, goblins, trolls, imps, gangs of changeling street performers, beggars and labourers and even a small dragon or two, as well as many stalls selling their species' ethnic foods, reflecting the town's flourishing diversity. Such business opportunities landed many salesponies with a good, if not great profit. Too bad though that this was where the mob came in, and too bad for the customers that the whole place became so busy and densely crowded that it left some of them waiting in lines at stalls for nearly half an hour.

Both Drizzilla and her father were too busy squeezing in between ponies to see Rarity and her daughter, Precious who were doing business at a large stall over headed by a sapphire blue tent. Rarity was looking over some glass cases that made up the counter, inside of which, laid out on red and blue silk cushions were a neat collection of jewels; rubies, sapphires, emeralds and, best of all, diamonds!

A rotund desert imp standing up behind the counter on a wooden stall grinned yellow toothily, readjusting the number of pouches and belt held around his belly and waist. This was the stall's owner and judging by his expanding stomach and waistline and his newish clothes, he was currently in good business.

"I take it you like what you see, Mrs Rarity? Came in fresh this morning."

"Oh my…" Rarity looked stunned by the collection, her eyes glistening. "You have quite the display, sir. How do you manage to acquire such fascinating specimens?"

"Ah, my dear, I have my sources," he cracked his tiny, claw-like digits. "So then, I take it you will buy, yes?"

Rarity put her hoof to her lips and hummed, looking from the jewels in the case to her daughter next to her, who was blabbing away on that enormous contraption called a mobile phone. She evaluated the combination of a messy mane and smooth fur. What would look good on her?

"Hmm, amber, sapphire..." she mumbled to herself, and suddenly her eyes lit up. "Aha! Yes, diamonds! Those will look perfect on her!" She turned back to the imp. "One hundred diamonds, s'il vous plaît."

"What?" Precious turned her attention from her phone and gawked up at her mother. "Hold on, Melissa..." she said quickly to her friend over the phone, before covering the transmitter with her hoof and chastising her mother, "Mom! What-the-hay? If I gotta do this stupid contest, I can't wear diamonds on my dress! I'll look like a total poser!"

"Heh-heh, excuse me one moment…" Rarity giggled nervously to the imp, who was busy Rarity's bag with the diamonds, and lividly swung her head down to Precious' level, hissing quietly, "What have I told you about yelling in public?"

But Precious was not intimidated. She looked the other way, sitting down on her flank and pouting. "I don't want diamonds, mom, they're too flashy. Stephanie and Sue's moms are getting them opal and amethyst."

"Neither Sue and Stephanie's mothers are the number one fashionistas in Ponyville," she retorted, closing her eyes and placing her hoof to her chest proudly, sounding insulted by her daughter's whining. "And whom might that be? Oh, yes, that's right – me!"

Precious raised her whining voice to a new level of annoyance. "But Moooom-"

"That 'but mom' nonsense doesn't work on me! You're getting diamonds and you're going to like them, now hush!"

"Gah! Fine, whatever…" Precious cut her off and went back to her friend on the phone, not bearing to listen to more of her mother's prattle. She could easily complain later on at home. "Oh-my-gods, Melissa, you will not believe what my horrible idiot mom just did…"

Rarity shook her head. There was simply no getting through to her. She focused on paying for her diamonds now that the salesimp had finished loading up the jewels. She was not exactly pleased by the significantly higher price compared to her last visit here, but she went along with it and the two walked off back to the boutique, their business now done.

Little did either know that Jack N. Box was there too, but not hiding from on a tree branch this time. He was in plain sight with his mother, Pinkie Pie, who was busy making a spectacle of herself as she haggled loudly with a salespony over his set price (which was his right as the owner of the stall, but Pinkie was not able to get her around this), trying to buy cake ingredients for Sugarcube Corner. He did his best to pretend not to know the mare when he noticed Rarity and Precious at the imp's stall and began watching them from afar, thinking over a million things at once in the short span of time. He wanted to go over to them and apologise to Precious about yesterday, and then maybe…asked if they could have tea. He might have forced himself to do so this if they had not already left whilst he was still racking his brain.

He watch them leave intently, just standing there on the spot and going into a bit of a trance. Jack N. Box was only brought back to his senses when he heard his mother's shrill, energetic voice.

"C'mon, Jackie," Pinkie Pie chirped, prancing by her son cheerily with her bag already half full of ingredients. "Let's go get some icing elsewhere. Some ponies here tend to be kinda RUDE!" She yelled 'rude' angrily over her shoulder at the salespony, who looked red in the face and flustered after going five minutes straight with the party pony, but relieved he had won and she was leaving. It was the first time he dealt with Pinkie's 'haggling'. "We're making a baker's dozen of cupcakes, today. The big creamy pink ones…or were they purple? Fuchsia? Magenta?"

"Orange, mom."

"Oh…" Pinkie blinked, but smiled. "Orange it is! Boy, it sure is good I have you around."

Just then, the two bumped into somepony. Pinkie immediately apologized, and saw that the creature was a smallish, thin Changeling in a tan overcoat. He was jittering, unable to keep still in one spot and his eyes were all over the place.

She asked him with uncertainty, not knowing it was the best thing to do, "Are…are you okay?"

In a flash, he grabbed his coat and flashed it wide open! Pinkie and Jack instinctively cringed and covered their eyes, only to peek through and sighed with relief at seeing that it was not the worst case scenario and the changeling had dozens of watches hanging from the inside of his coat.

"Watches! Many, many watches! You buy, yes?" He squealed eagerly in his thick native accent, leaning forward and jingling the many gold and silver watches.

Jack barked rudely, "Screw off!"

"Jack!" Pinkie Pie scolded. "Don't be ru-ooooo!" She spotted a pretty pink watch dangling on the inside of the Changeling's coat. "How much for that one?"

"Forty, no, fifty, no, forty-five bits!"

"Deal."

Jack N Box watched mouth agape in shock at his mother hoofing over a whole load of the shining bit coins to the Changeling, who let her drop them into one of his large pockets. He gave the watch and immediately spun around and disappeared into the crowd.

"Sure is trendy, eh, Jackie?" The ecstatic mare asked her son, tying her watch around her hoof and admiring it. "It matches my coat, and it only cost forty-five bits. 'reckon Mrs Cake'll be jealous?"

"Mom, they sell watches for half that at the other stalls."

"…what do you mean?"

The colt did not like pointing out the painfully obvious, but did so anyway. "Mom, that guy just ripped you off."

"What? No way…" A whirring sound could be heard from her newly purchased watch and a spring suddenly burst through the face, as well as sending some of its parts flying. Neither pony said anything, until Pinkie Pie's face started flushing and she seethed loudly. "That…that…rip-off artist!" With that, in her traditional manner, she charged up her legs and set off like a bright pink bullet into the crowd in search of the same imp, unwittingly leaving her young colt behind.

Moments later, she reappeared by his side, picked him up and disappeared in a flash, once again. Although it did not look it on the outside, on the inside he was getting increasingly frustrated. Was he ever going to get his tea today? And what of Alice? He needed her to come, as well. He needed his Alice.

Drizzilla hated crowds. Not only were they deafening and uncomfortable to move through, but she had her own reasons, mainly being that she was walking through the crowd with her father. Soarin' had taken second residence in Ponyville for some years now and though ponies had become used to his presence here, he was still quite the celebrity and naturally turned a few heads his way. The problem with this was that when they noticed him, they would notice her, too.

They would all nod or greet him, but she knew they were more interested in getting at least a good, lengthy glance at her. Drizzilla was the only child of Soarin' and Rainbow Dash, one practically a legend and the other still a renowned flyer in her own right, so of course ponies would be interested in trying to meet or at least see her. Such attention is inevitable and unavoidable. Drizzilla, on the other hoof, did not enjoy all the attention in the slightest. Their thinly veiled intrusive and scrutinising eyes were always had their priority on her instead of Soarin', as if they were searching for something that was not there. Soarin' and Rainbow Dash always reassured her that it was just because of their status, but Drizzilla was a lot smarter than they gave her credit for and knew well that that was not the case. She knew why and it made her even sicker than she already was.

Father and daughter arrived at their destination – Applejack's stand. Soarin' loved coming here for one thing: apple pie. If there was one thing the Pegasus would proudly say he loved more than his family if not for the fear of Rainbow Dash ripping his wings off, it was that delectable pastry topped with thick cream.

"Howdy, Soarin'!" Applejack greeted him with a smile. Unlike most of the other ponies in the market, there was no hidden agenda and was genuinely glad to see him, as far as Drizzilla was concerned. "Lemme guess, apple pie?"

Soarin' nodded and took out a small brown bag of bits and dropped them on the counter.

"I think that should cover it," he smiled.

"Five apple pies comin' right up. Appletini, go get five…" The Earth pony trailed and went wide-eyed at seeing what her son, sitting down by a couple of barrels was doing. "Appletini!"

Appletini was holding a bunch of red apples in his foreleg and was in the middle of munching into a big shiny one that moment, with a couple finished ones lying on the ground by his side. He looked up when his mother shouted his name and gulped at seeing her march up to him. She snatched the apples in his foreleg away and initially took the one he was eating, but immediately decided to let him have it after seeing it was saliva covered.

"Appletini do bad?" he asked rather too innocently and bit into his half-eaten apple.

The mare was steaming to the point where it looked steam was going to jet out of her ears, ready to go into a lengthy rant about the faults of eating the produce. Miraculously, she managed to restrain herself and only rubbed her hoof hardly down her face and stomped off with a grunt. The colt just shrugged and continued eating his apple.

"There you go, Auntie Applejack," a nasally little voice from startled Applejack and she peered down to see a young fuchsia colt with a crimson mane standing in front of her. He wore a ludicrously big, thick pair of glasses and an adorkable white and blue polka dotted bow tie. He was holding a neatly stack of apple pies balanced in one hoof. "I knew Mr. Soarin' was coming, so I got them nice and ready for you."

"Thank ya kindly, Bookworm," she said thankfully, taking them and carrying them over to the counter.

Her nephew, known as Bookworm smiled at this acknowledgement and made his way back to the barrels where Appletini was sitting and perched himself next to his cousin, taking a book from out between the barrels and reading from where he last left off. His cousin, however, had a significantly less pleased look on his face and proceeded to take a bitter chomp into his nearly gnawed to the core fruit.

Soarin' was ecstatic to have his favourite food since he was a colt set before him, but remembered one vital thing regarding his dropping by here.

"Oh, uh, one more thing, AJ," Soarin' leaned in and said in a hushed voice, "The lady wants some bottles of the, ya know…strong stuff?"

Applejack pursed her lips and rubbed the back of her neck. "The strong stuff? Well…ah'll take a look in the back."

All the while this transaction was going on, Drizzilla had abandoned her place at her father's side and was striking up a conversation with Appletini and Bookworm to relieve herself of her boredom. She had less of a problem with these two; they were fairly alright, that is, for Earth ponies.

"It's really formed this negative atmosphere throughout the whole household," Bookworm elaborated the domestic situation back at Sweet Apple Acres, as well as demonstrating his good vocabulary. "I always knew aunt Apple Bloom and my father take bowling very seriously, but even I'm surprised at the level of growing tension here. I can only imagine how it will be when one of them wins and the other doesn't."

"Yep. It's gonna be an all-out warzone at home when it's all over," Appletini grimaced, picking at bits of apple caught between his teeth. "Ah actually hope neither wins. Maybe that'll be better for everypony."

Drizzilla listened with a dry, bored expression on her face, just nodding to whatever they said. She honestly could not care about some dumb old bowling tournament that was tearing the Apple family apart. She regretted coming over and talking with these bozos.

"…and then uncle Big Mac shot her, it was so weird."

Snap!

All three jumped at seeing the razor-toothed shut jaws of a crocodile right by their side. They had no idea how long it had been there, but they quickly spotted it was being flanked by a second. They did not look entirely grown, but big enough to scare the hell out of a pony. Both the walking leather bags growled monstrously at the filly and colts, but they suddenly jerked back and the three realized the brutes had leashes around their thick necks.

Jellybean stepped forward and blew back a lock of her cyan mane from her face. She had the other end of the leashes were tied around her foreleg hooves.

"Down, babies, down!" She barked angrily at the two crocodiles, and they shrunk before their mistress. Her face softened and said, "Oh, don't mind them. I haven't fed them today…or yesterday." She tapped her chin. "In fact, I don't think I even fed them the day before that, either."

"Those things are monsters!" Drizzilla hissed, pointing at the reptiles, who hissed back.

Jellybean let the comment roll off her back and turned to Bookworm and Appletini and spoke to them sweetly, "Good morning, boys."

The colts felt themselves getting hotter and grinned uncontrollably and bashfully at the lemon Pegasi filly, answering in perfect unison, their cheeks blushing, "Hiii, Jellybean."

She walked up to Appletini's side and asked, "My babies could really do with some of your nice, juicy apples, 'tini." Her already large eyes dilated and she rubbed her head against him. "Could you do little ol' me a favour and get me some, please?"

"Ah dunno, Jellybean, mah momma's already pretty mad at me eatin' apples on the job already, I-"

What happened next made Drizzilla's jaw drop so far it could have fallen off his hinges and the book that Bookworm was holding in his hooves drop to the ground with a surprisingly loud 'thud'. Jellybean pursed her small lips and pecked gently the side of Appletini's face. The first few seconds he was stunned, until his eyeballs rolled up, being replaced with bright pink hearts and his cheeks went so red you could swear his head was going to explode.

Giggling uncontrollably in a tone that would give a chipmunk a run for its money, Appletini stumbled over to a whole open barrel of red apples already tied down to a little red wagon and shoved them towards her.

"Hereyagohavesomehaytakethewholebarrelnocharge." They were certain there was a coherent word in there somewhere.

Jellybean took an apple from the top and nibbled it and stepped in front of her pets and then let out a whistle. The crocodiles leapt into action and stuck their traps into the barrel, feeding their barren bellies.

"You know, some ponies would consider that stealing," Drizzilla pointed out angrily.

"And [some ponies have the decency to wipe their mouths after eating," rebuked Jellybean snidely, pointing an accusing hoof at her.

"What're you talking about?"

Bookworm pushed his glasses back up his muzzle and told her, "Well, yes, Drizzilla, I didn't bring it up earlier because I didn't want to offend you, but you have something on your lips."

She sceptically pressed the side of her hoof to her mouth and to her horror, she found there was indeed something on her lips. It was the same dark green liquid she had coughed up at the café. It was also slowly leaking fresh out the corner of her mouth. She had thought the horribly bitter taste in her mouth still lingering around far too long. Why had her parents not noticed earlier?

"I…It's nothing," she lied, getting anxious and still holding her hoof to her mouth. "I just…just had some lime pop-tarts. Yeah, that's it."

"Lime pop-tarts? You've got that stuff on your face from a pop-tart that doesn't even exist?" Jellybean snorted, raising her eyebrow and sticking her muzzle in the air. "That's gotta be one of the lamest thing I've ever heard."

"No," she said slowly, shaking her head. "Somepony naming their foal after a piece of candy has to be the lamest thing I've ever heard."

The colts formed 'o's with their mouths and went, "Oooooooo". Drizzilla felt a wave of relief, believing attention had been diverted from her dark green tinted lips and took the time to wipe them with the back of her hoof. But she did not take heed of the faint rumble in the distance or how the clouds above were accumulating, becoming thicker and hanging low, and that was seriously going to bite her in the flank in a few minutes.

Jellybean glowered at Drizzilla. She wanted to say something clever - a snappy comeback - something biting that would turn her Pegasi counterpart back into the target…but drew a blank. All she felt she could do was retain her high and mighty composure and returned a basic defence.

"Laugh all you want, you big bully!" Portraying yourself as the victim was a good tactic, but it was more effective around adults than other colts and fillies. "But we'll so who'll be laughing when I win the pageant for the third time in a row!"

Drizzilla felt like she wanted to cough up more, but for different reasons. That dang pageant she was unable to escape from, no matter where she went. But her distaste was thrown off by something else.

"I'm sorry…it almost sounded like you said you've actually won that pile of cow dung."

"Twice champion, Drizzle Wizzle," said Jellybean, running her hoof through her mane. "And in two week's I'm gonna break a rec-" Her boasting was cut short when Drizzilla burst out in uproarious laughter, her legs almost buckling.

"Y-you?" Tears were pouring down her face from the hysteria and wrapped her left leg around her stomach to stop it from bursting wide open. "A pageant champion! HA! That's rich! Next you'll be telling me your dad's Hoity Toity and you took out Discord by sitting on 'im!" She was laughing so hard, she ignored the fresh new dark green fluid dripping out her mouth corners. "I don't think you know this, honey, but I'm pretty sure the stage has a weight limit! HA Hahahahaha!"

Now Jellybean was positively livid. Now she was ruthlessly and crassly mocking her proudest accomplishments! Even the two colts thought Drizzilla was going a tad too far, bordering becoming the aggressor. She stomped her hoof hard enough on the ground to make her gorging crocodiles momentarily stop and quiver in fear.

"You're just jealous!" She spat, raising her voice enough to silence Drizzilla's laughter, but the latter had to chomp on her bottom lip to do this and still had a trembling ear-to-ear grin, giving a valiant effort to supress her giggles. "You wanna know why? Because pageants don't just take beauty – which I have plenty to spare – to win, it takes talent! And if there's one thing you don't have, Drizzilla, it's any talent!"

Any urge to laugh suddenly trained from the pale blue filly upon hearing that. There was something about the way Jellybean had said "talent" and how she was looking at her, or more specifically, around her. She had a feeling she knew.

"W-what's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean somepony from your family really has one kind of talent, and let's be honest with ourselves here, you're no good at even that!"

Drizzilla stepped forward, feeling her temperature rise and visibly clenching her jaw. She growled darkly, "Shut your mouth, fatty."

Jellybean was too caught up in how much she struck a nerve (an easy one) after a delay and revelled in it. She put a bit of cheer into her voice as she continued, "I can only imagine it must feel for you and your parents. I mean, they've only got one daughter and it turned out she's nothing but a useless, flightless frea—hey, what're you doing get away from me—!"

She tried to scream when Drizzilla put right hoof against her chest and shoved her as hard as she could against the now hallow apple barrel behind her, but the sudden force of it cut her off in midsentence. The crocodiles were going to try and defend their mistress, but the blue Pegasi shot them glares that would kill them on the spot if such ability was possible, hence they just trembled and backed off.

"Get your filthy hoof offa me!" Jellybean protested, trying to pry herself free but her enemy only pressed harder in response.

"Take that back," she ordered in a venomous hiss through her bared teeth. Her face contorted into the most furious scowl she could muster and her eyes were lit with the roaring flames of the sun itself. With that in mind, it was no surprise the crocodiles were afraid of her. The simple shock of such a severe mood swing was enough to freeze one in their place.

"No."

"Take-it-back!" Drizzilla was at this point shoving so far into Jellybean's cheat cavity that thinking back on it later she was surprised the bones did not break. ]"NOW!"

Despite the fact she was caught in a painful, firm lock, Jellybean was not going to yield. She leaned her head forward to the point where their dagger eyes met and their muzzles were inches from each other and she told her in a clear, fearless voice, "NO."

Appletini looked like he was going to intervene before this really got ugly, but Bookworm put a hoof up to keep him back.

Right now, Drizzilla could not care less if she got into serious trouble. Any sense of tact had been thrown to the wind; she was just so consumed by the anger burning in her belly. Jellybean essentially pressed her berserk button. Nopony called her that word. Not Jellybean, not the other Pegasi, nopony. She was going to put this cow in a hospital if it meant getting the message through…

Cold. She felt the thin prick against the heat of her skin, hitting the spot between her head and ear and the subsequent uncomfortable treacle down the side of her face and neck. The first was enough to dose most of her anger and loosening her hold on Jellybean, but the second, third and fourth made her let go entirely and she stared up at the sky in abject horror. It was raining.

She immediately regretted looking up straight at it, for it only resulted in her getting a face full of it. She reacted to this violently, stumbling backwards like she had lost her balance and covering her face with her left hoof.

"Wha…wh-what's going on?"

Bookworm and Appletini stared at each in disbelief for a moment, before the former turned back to her and answered slowly, "I'm quite sure that it's raining, Drizzilla."

"No…no, no, No!" Her breath had begun to accelerate, reaching hyperventilation in a matter of seconds, and her pupils shrunk and chest pounded, very much like yesterday when she got pie on her mane. But this time, her panicking had little to do with something more trivial than her mane. She looked genuinely frightened by something, but the others had no idea what that was other than the rainfall, which was no starting to pick up, being carried by breezes of wind. Appletini and Bookworm stood there, dumbfounded and not knowing how to react as they watched the spectacle. Even Jellybean, who now had a visible hoof imprint on her chest that would, without a doubt, form a bruise, was more confused than she was angry. "It wasn't supposed to rain today! This can't be happening!"

"Oh, calm the hay down!" Jellybean grunted angrily, holding her sore chest as if it were more hurt than it actually was. "It's just raining, you bucking freak!"

Bam! Drizzilla, in a blind fury, smashed her forehead into Jellybean's face, sending her back against the barrel. Appletini and Bookworm watched in shock, and recoiled when Drizzilla turned to face them.

"What're you looking at! You want some, too?" Her face was getting soaked by the downpour, but the utter monstrousness with which she glared at them was second to what else was happening at the same time. As more rain struck her face, the more it rolled off in a different colour. The drops were leaving an opaque pale blue, the same colour as her fur and the colts noticed something else; her whole face was running. Obviously, it was all that makeup she was wearing. The excessive contact with the rain was ruining it, but if the colts did not know any better, they would have sworn her whole face was starting to melt, especially when they saw something else taking the makeup's place.

She spun on her heels and galloped away, followed by a quick streak of the end of her black coat and her red and blue tail.

Soarin' was packing the last of the cider into the bag hanging around his neck, being careful around the plastic wrapped pies. The last thing he wanted was for his pies to get squashed.

"Pleasure doin' businesses with you, as always, Soarin'," Applejack smiled, dropping the bag of bits into the pouch of her white apron. It was a good thing she had splurged on the new canopy, otherwise by now.

"Uh-huh…" Soarin' mumbled as his teeth were clenched around the neck of the bottle, which he then managed to slide in between a few more in the bag. "Okay, that's tha—woah!" He jolted, nearly spilling the bag over when he felt something grasp his legs out of nowhere. He looked down to see it was his daughter, who was trembling all over. "Drizzilla? Yeesh, what've I told you about sneaking up—hey, what's wrong?"

"Dad, we gotta go!" She whimpered, keeping her head down.

"Why?"

"Dad, please!" She raised her head so he could see her running face and all the ruined makeup. Behind it all, the stallion could make out a growing white colour around her muzzle and blotchy shades of purplish pink on the rest of her face.

It was only then that it fully dawned on Soarin' that it was running and hard. At first, for a couple of seconds, he considered how this was possible. He checked with Rainbow Dash this morning about the weather. She was on time-off, but she was certain it was not due to rain until tomorrow. But right now, that was not what was important. His daughter was in a state of distress and he and Applejack understood why.

"…okay, okay, it's all right," He scooped her up and spread out his wings. "Gotta go, Applejack, see ya!" Grunting at the extra weight of both the heavy bag and his daughter, he took off into the air but with less speed than he was accustomed to.

Seeing Soarin's blue streak in the air was enough to catch some pony's attention, but it did not take long for them to return to their business. Applejack kept her eye on it, though, even when they were no longer in site for a while. She inwardly sighed. That poor filly.

Back with the other three youths, Appletini ran over to Jellybean to help her back to her hooves, but she swatted him way and got up on her own. She was fuming. How dare she do that to her! Of all the nerve! She immediately began thinking about having her charged for assault. What if she got another bruise or worse, was bleeding? She checked her face for any blood, and was disheartened to find there was none, yet…she found something else that was interesting.

On the bottom of her hoof, she found what appeared to be a wet blue powder of some kind. It was from the same spot on her muzzle where Drizzilla attacked her. She realized this was a small sample of her adversary's makeup, and it got her thinking about the blue Pegasi filly's erratic behaviour. She had a total freak-out over her makeup? What a cryfilly. In fact, Jellybean wondered why the hay Drizzilla was wearing so much makeup, anyway. She herself wore some blush, but from what she saw, Drizzilla liked caking it on.

Jellybean shook her head, yanked on her crocodile's necks and marched off to find her mother. She tried to make herself cry and messed up her mane for her, and dismissed any remaining thoughts of Drizzilla's meltdown. What else could she expect from a flightless freak?

"…as you can see, there is much work that needs to be done in this area, alone."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Twilight Sparkle accompanied the top Changeling in her campaign down a street sidewalk in Reinchapel, East Ponyville, flanked by a few other campaign suits, a camera pony and a couple more media drones. She was back on the campaign trial that very morning, right on schedule. Now if only she could have remembered to pop a few more pills for her splitting headache before leaving the library that morning. On top of everything else, it was raining cats and dogs. Thank Celestia Romulus had an extra umbrella.

Reinchapel was one of her greatest political strongholds within the town. It was a poor, rundown place, consisting of a particularly large minority population, thus creating an ethnic neighbourhood the kind more accustomed to a city like Canterlot than in a still relatively small town like Ponyville. This was flagged by how every sign visible to the naked eye was multilingual. But maybe 'rundown' was too generous. 'Decrepit' and 'ghetto' were more fitting terms, because that was essentially what this particular area of East Ponyville and those surrounding it were – ghettos. The buildings were either really old or relatively new, judging by their striking differences in structural design, but nearly all were dilapidated, with broken or boarded up windows, graffiti on the walls and doors hanging off their hinges, if not already broken. Rubbish had carelessly been dumped wherever possible over the years, turning it not only into an eyesore, but a hotbed for disease, too.

"This place is a dump, Twilight," Romulus said bluntly in a very peculiar voice and verbal cadence unique to him, twirling his cigarette in his thin lips and readjusting his monocle to stop it from falling out. His manner of speech and dress indicated he was of much higher class than the usual Ponyville Changeling. "I'm not gonna lie."

"Kind of a generalisation there, Rom, I mean, you've made it good here."

"Only 'cause I was one of the first here," he waved his hoof dismissively and went on to describe his predicament, "It wasn't so bad when there a few dozen families, but then all the other Changelings came in swarms, crowding houses and stretching services. Started good for my business, sure, but now the area's rotting and Mayor Glasseye's doing jack about it. How am I supposed to make a profit out of a hayhole like this?"

Twilight listened carefully and took in all what Romulus was saying, and buttoned up the coat she was wearing. "So we're going to need some regeneration."

"No, a lot, to be perfectly honest," he replied as blunt as before. "You've seen the stats?"

"'Fourth most deprived area in the whole of Equestria', or did the report say 'fifth'?"

"Nah, fourth. Next to the gangs, this is Glassye's biggest cockup, but for you…" Romulus motioned to the dozens of posters and placards hanging up around the place that were endorsing Twilight. "This is an excellent opportunity to cash in, in the political sense, of course. I can tell you right now, the minority vote is the vote you're gonna need."

"Yeah, that's what I got you for," Twilight stated and they turned a corner, seeing the next street was filthier than the last. "You're my gatekeeper here and I need…" she trailed off her sentence as she stopped and surveyed the area. "Celestia's sake, Rom, how'd it get this bad?"

Knowing that she was talking about the obvious, Romulus shrugged indifferently, "It's mostly the Changelings, really."

She was surprised to hear that, especially from him, despite his heavy criticisms of his home area. Such a claim was usually expected of a bitter, often unemployed middle-aged pony, not another Changeling. It was like a turkey advocating a Hearth's Warming dinner. Maybe the social division was not strictly on species lines?

Romulus caught her look and said, "Sorry to say this, Sparkle, but let's not kid ourselves. My peeps aren't exactly honest Joes. They drink too much; they get into fights; they have too many kids-"

"But you don't do those things," she interjected with annoyance, having heard these grievances against the Changeling population hundreds of times before.

"Yeah, but thing is…I'm not like most Changelings. Sure, they get the shaft a lot, but they don't do themselves any favours. There's just not enough...you know, uh…them fitting in. What's the word?"

"Integration?"

"Yeah, sure, that. Fact is, you got more than one problem to fix," Romulus said, leading her over to a close by store. "And as such, you gotta make a lotta promises to a lotta folks. A lotta promises…" he leaned in and added quietly to her with emphasis, "Especially to your biggest contributors, or how do you put it, gatekeepers?"

She knew what he was talking about and unnerved her, but nodded anyway and replied in a hushed voice to avoid being picked up by the media just steps behind them, "Alright, alright, I know. Can we just keep it schtum in front of the cameras?"

"Not a problem. We can discuss it more tonight at that little soiree of yours, tonight. Here…" He took out a red packet from his inner breast pocket and gave it to Twilight as the group approached the store. "Take these. For ya head. You're gonna need 'em after we're done here. Okey-dokey artichokey…" Romulus stood by the store door and placed his hoof on the brass handle. "Let's go meet your constituents, 'Miss Mayor'..." He pushed the door open and stood aside to let her go through first.

The lavender Unicorn mare swallowed a couple of pills dry and walked through the open door, followed by Romulus, then the remaining campaigners and finally, the media. She kept mentally going through what one of the old mayors advised her when she first informed her of her attention to run for office:

"Don't be a snob, but don't be a clod, either. And remember, those cameras? They're gonna be on you all the time, so you gotta keep your composure, even when they go off you for a second. One goofy face and it can be on every newspaper in town. So yeah, no pressure, kid."

The river running along the rural parts of Ponyville went on for miles, stretching so far that it came very close to the base of the mountains on top of which sported the capital city of Canterlot. Unknownst to most ponies, the river ended at the spooky mouth of a cave, large enough that it should have enabled a large boat to slide through, but the formation of stalagmites and fallen boulders had closed a lot of it off. It was just big enough for one small boat to squeeze in and out.

On the outside, you would dismiss it as nothing special, but like with many caves, its beauty was entirely on the inside. The river at last ended at the end of the long, narrow tunnel; feeding into a large, fairly deep and piercingly cold dark blue lake, bring down the temperature of the cave with it. Its sparkling water looked so pure you might venture to take a drink and its bluish glow reflected harmoniously against the cave throughout the cave were many small islands lifting out from the lake, each very unique to the other – one was covered in snow, another in greenery and shrubbery.

As you can imagine, this was no ordinary cave. Whilst much of its beauty was natural, it had been subjected to interference by ponykind. The pure, glowing waters could not be natural when the river leading to it outside was being polluted by the wastes of the Great Gallop Forwards. It owed its purity, freezing temperature and glow to a spell, strong enough to keep the confined body of water consistently clean and fit for aquatic life – a filtering spell. The miniature isolated environments on the islands also had to be of a magical origin. It was not possible these different slices of nature were physically able to coexist with each other. The last island, the biggest and elevated higher than the others was set in the centre of the lake and unlike the others, it was meant for pony usage, judging by the steps at the base and the furniture on top, including a desk, a bed and a vanity mirror. Somepony had obviously inhabited this cave in the past.

This was the former research base of Dr. Silverwings, a talented ornithologist and wizard who long ago occupied the cave to pursue his research in flightless birds, and using his magical skills to perfect the conditions to study multiple specimens at once. He had occupied the cave for only a few years before he seemingly just disappeared. His research papers remained on the desk in neat stacks. Maybe he had decided to call it quits and abandoned his specimens, but whatever the reason, the dates on his papers gave a clear indication that by now, he was either really old or really dead.

In his absence, the birds had to survive on an inconsistent supply of fish swimming around the lake, and they would surely have slowly starved to death if she had not found them.

Drizzilla's poxy boat floated out the tunnel and into the sparkling lake. She stood up, a wide smile penetrating the mess of makeup and cried cheerfully, her breath condensing against the cold air, "My babies! Did you miss me?"

The cave came alive with a chorus of squawking by hundreds of birds. Her sudden appearance in the cave got them excited. The ones on their islands crowded in large number at the edges and those in the lake rose to the surface and circled the boat. A diverse population of flightless bird lived together in this commune, from penguins to kiwis, to cassowaries, to even platypuses (though when checked the doctor's research, she was shocked to find they were mammals, not birds, so their presence here was the most baffling).

Parking her boat at the steps of the large centre island, Drizzilla climbed out and climbed up the stairs, wrapped up in her same black furry coat and carrying two jumbo-sized, heavy buckets. She dumped her coat on the rock surface in of those rarely occasions where she would willingly expose the rest of herself. Around other ponies, she did her best to cloak herself, but with these birds, she seemed to have no problem.

Drizzilla dropped the buckets and trotted over to the desk where the remnants of Dr. Silverwings were situated, but her focus was not on books or documents, but the cute, plush yellow bed placed next to the desk legs. She bent her legs, getting down to its level and craned over it with a wide smile. Snuggled comfortably in the bed was a small ball of grey, black and white. It was a penguin chick.

Rubbing the tip of her muzzle gently against its back, she whispered, "Wake up, sweetie, it's me. Momma's here."

Hearing its "momma"'s voice fully awoke the chick, but it did not react the way she expected. It did not look overjoyed to see her, but rather fearful, like she was going to hurt it. Drizzilla quickly understood why.

"Oh, no, no, it's okay, it's me," she said and wiped her face, revealing more of her true face. This pacified the chick, who, upon recognising its "momma" chirped merrily. "There…there…" she stroked her hoof against its head, before leaving it be and walking over to the vanity mirror.

There was a small selection of her makeup on the table the mirror was set on, but Drizzilla cared not for these. Instead, she lifted a metal pale of cold water onto the table and took out the soaked sponge floating on top and began rubbing it hard against her cheek, removing what was left of the layers and layers of ruined magically specialised makeup.

She was not as pretty a foal as she liked to tell herself and all others around her. In fact, she was anything but. Underneath that powdered disguise, she was actually a homely foal, to put it mildly. Sure, you would not call her so ugly she was a walking modern art masterpiece, but you recall when somepony said somebody else had a face only a mother could love? This is the face they are talking about!

Her scrunched muzzle, as if it had taken one too many hits from a long boxing career; her sunken in and very bloodshot sallowish eyes with them and their red pupils shining through the dark holes; the surgical scars, memoirs of her many times under the knife, and the hideous mottling starting at her lips and spreading across her muzzle and her throat like an illness. Her fur was already a very pale blue, but this mottling was an absolute deathly white colour, the kind you would see on a bloated, dead fish, not a pony. But these were little things. The makeup's primary task was to conceal the purplish pink lesions riddling all around her face and neck, reaching down to the top of her arms and chest like a flaky, disgusting rash. Even the unmarred parts of her facial skin, so sparse they were, were mostly rough like bristles, leaving only a reserved patch or two that were soft to the touch. This was her true face; the one seldom seen to ponies outside her most inner circle, and that itself was a dang small circle.

But her hideous face and other features could only be so much shrouded in makeup. She removed her false white teeth and dunked them in a glass of water, showing off her real set of razor sharp, plaque and bile stained teeth, sticking out from the rotted, bile stained gums. That dark green liquid she spewed non-stop? Bile. She figured her liver must have been on constant overdrive or something. Her crooked, bat-like ears were in full view, but nopony really seemed to notice them.

After her face, there was not that much wrong with her that was visible to the pony eye, thanks to the many clothing she wore to conceal herself. Her back was deformed, forming a minor hunch, and the lesions and the white mottling…she was sure they were spreading down to her chest and back, like a true infection consuming her body. There was another thing that was hidden well – a plastic false hoof on her right foreleg, which she removed to reveal a deformed hoof with what seemed to be three short, flat, triangular digits, most unnatural for a pony. Her main concern, however, were her wings.

Her face now cleansed and exposed to the abrasive cold air, the Pegasi filly stretched out these wings…if you could call them that. These were the reason she wore coats all the time besides the fashion. For lack of a better description, her wings were an utter shambles! They were mere puny, twisted and crooked twigs with clumps of feathers attached; totally unfit for flight. No way could any Pegasus hope to ever soar through the air with these "wings"!

Unlike either of her parents and 99.9% of all Pegasi, Drizzilla did not possess the gift of flight. Not at all, straight from birth. The most she could hope to manage was forcing her wings hard enough to make her hover some feet above the ground or clouds. She herself did not really understand the reasoning behind her wing's deformity, or the rest of her 'imperfections' for that matter, but even if she did, it would not have mattered.

She saw the worthless wings in her mirror, and for some reason, it caused a frown to grow on her face and got her thinking back to her earlier years, or more specifically, her birth.

The exact details of her birth she were not entirely clear to her, but from what she could gather from her own independent research, her parents were seemingly overjoyed those many years ago to find out they were going to have a foal. It made perfect sense, didn't it? Two great fliers passing on their genes to a new generation in the hope of creating an even greater flier to succeed them. Dear old dad had quickly spread the news to pretty much every Pegasus in Equestria and they congratulated him.

Eleven months passed, and finally Rainbow Dash, in the dead of a heavily snowing night at Hearth's Warming time, went into labour for the first time, and trust me, for her, it was the worst several hours of her life, hooves down. Everypony was prepared and a name had been chosen: Starscream (they were really hoping for a colt). It seemed like nothing could go wrong, but then...everything went wrong. How? She was born.

Hers was a very long and difficult birth. Most were born head first; she had a breech birth, much more difficult, especially as her birthplace was not a hospital, but Soarin's family mansion in Cloudsdale. It was in the very early hours of the morning that Drizzilla's small, disfigured form was crying in her horror-stricken parents' forelegs.

They both told her they loved her. She figured at least one of them was telling the truth. She knew the score. She knew how Rainbow Dash resented her, no, that was probably too mild. 'Ashamed'? Flat out 'hated'? Drizzilla saw it in her mother's cold, judgemental eyes, through that smiling mask with which lied straight to everypony's face, even her own daughter's. She could perfectly imagine the contempt, disgust and revulsion on her face when she stared down at the pathetic, malformed and most of all, flightless freak in her forelegs that she was supposed to call 'daughter'. What Pegasi, in their harsh, brutal society would honestly blame her, though, for being so disappointed? The doctors, even the best ones her parents scoured the country for all examined the deformed foal and they all said the same thing: little Drizzilla will never fly...and neither ever be much of a looker, either. With second opinion after second opinion, her fate as a freak of nature was sealed.

Rainbow Dash did not love her, what other explanation was there for their blatant rift, the filly figured? Without speaking a word about it, she had it all figured out on her own. It was all a big fat lie, parents saying how much they "loved" their children. The selfish mare could not even be bothered to give her a good name. Drizzilla. It was just so...common.

She was nothing to her mother but her personal shame. An embarrassment. A disgrace to her and their kind. The buckers.

It was not fair! Drizzilla was practically being blamed for something that was in no way her fault and entirely beyond her control! She never asked to be born so...different, or be born at all, for that matter. What was she supposed to do? Spurt a beautiful set of wings and fly throughout the skies like the majestic phoenix? Was that what was needed to gain even the faintest glimmer of respect or approval from mother dearest?

Staring back intently at the face she had been brought up to despise with the most intense bitterness, Drizzilla grunted and pulled off the last of her disguise; the black stocking on her left foreleg, showing the withered to the bone limb underneath. A result of her breech birth, and like with her other hoof, possessed three short, flat, triangular digits. She turned back and walked in her odd, deformity-induced way to the buckets she left behind and hauled one over to the very edge of the island.

"Dinner, babies!" She called out to the many penguins on their little island and infesting the waters, and began flinging hoof's full of dead fish into the air, some landing in the water and others being gobbled up in mid-air by the ravenous penguins. The ones on the island dove into the lake in search of dinner. Drizzilla's favourite birds always got fed first, even before herself.

She looked voraciously down at the many fish in her bucket and licked her lips. Grabbing the tail of a particularly large fish, she dangled it playfully above her wide open mouth before dropping it in and tearing through it with her sharp teeth like it was a chicken nugget. Drizzilla always had an insatiable taste for fish, ever since she was a foal pounding on the kitchen table for fish fingers. It was her favourite food, hooves down, but her favourite type had always been plain raw, or rather 'fresh'. Rainbow Dash often advised her not to eat them raw, but after several years and seeing her daughter continously eating something actually healthy, she caved in and even sometimes bought her a fresh one from the market, providing, "she's been good."

A chirp came from behind. Drizzilla knew where it came from. The penguin chick clambered out of its bed and waddled over to her excitedly. She smiled warmly, sat down and opened her forelegs, letting the little thing run into her embrace.

"C'mere, Burgess," she cooed, lifting the chick in her forelegs and cradling him like her own foal. "You hungry?" She picked out a fat sardine and held it over her precious pet's beak, who suddenly ceased chirping and looked at her plainly. "C'mon…" She dangled the sardine some more, but it crossed its flippers and shook its head. "Aww, sweetie, I don't wanna-"

The penguin named Burgess started squawking agitatedly, hopping up and down. Drizzilla knew what it wanted and grimaced, eyeing the fish briefly before reluctantly sticking it in her mouth. She much on it a bit, looking around in the extremely slim chance somepony else was watching, and she craned her neck and, after making what sounded like her retching, regurgitated the chewed fish into Burgess' open beak.

It was not the poor darling's fault. Burgess was too young to eat on its own. His mother abandoned him when he was only an egg and Drizzilla came across it the very first time she stumbled upon the cave. It was a day that had long since become fogged in her memory. Strange, you would think she'd remember such an important day, but most it was mostly blurred now. Had she gone exploring? But so far out from town and at such a young age? Had she got into a fight with Rainbow Dash and run off in a fit? Most likely. Whatever the details, Drizzilla found Burgess' egg and with hope of there being any life inside, kept it warm until the day it hatched. By that time, she had become so attached to the little creature that unofficially 'adopted' him as her 'baby'. That meant feeding was part of her responsibility as well, no matter how gross it got.

As she proceeded to feed the various fish, bugs and fruits to her 'babies' and they fought each other viciously for the last morsel, Drizzilla watched on with fondness, along with sucking down the last of the fish she scrapped from the bottom of the buckets. These adorable birds…they were her friends, not those ugly equines she was forced to be in contact with all the time. In fact, she would not shy away from saying these creatures were more her family than her parents. There was this definite connection and the logic of it was straightforward. Flightless, not that pleasant to look at (except most of the penguins, who were freaking cute) and outcasts to the overzealous, proud majority. She had tried to make friends with other Pegasi in her younger years. Why, she was even excited to go out, meet some of her own kind and play games with them. Pegasi filly games were always the most fun…requiring you could fly, so as you can imagine, the results left much to be desired.

"What good's a Pegasi that can't fly!" "Hay, you might as well be an Earth pony!" "You ain't no Marena Lisa, kid, that's for sure!" "You? The daughter THE Soarin' and Rainbow Dash?! You must be joking!" They jeered her along those lines. If anything, those were the kindest remarks.

"Flightless freak!" "Dodo!" "Penguin Girl!" "Ugmug!" They called her from above, not having the guts to say it to face.

"Why don't you go off and play with some penguins! You're both just about on the same level, ya Penguin Girl!" "You know, runt, just because you're pissed of you got freak disease, doesn't mean you have to try and give it to the rest of us!" "Go buzz off! Oh wait, I forgot…you can't even do that, can you? HA!" They ignorantly mocked, trying their best to sound creative.

Every snide remarked, every nasty comment, every lame insult, they only helped harden the filly's heart. Half the time, they were when she was not decorated in makeup, thus why she kept wearing more as years went on. Grownups always used the tired "sticks and stones" reply, but all ponies knew what a crock that was! Words hurt. Words hurt a lot. Buck the other Pegasi, buck the lot of them! To Tartarus with them and their oh-so-special wings and flying! She was not missing out on anything…at least, she did not think she was…

No. She did not need them. It was just her and secret menagerie of flightless birds against the world! She had never seen Dr. Silverwings and was likely never to, but Drizzilla thanked him, nonetheless. If it was not for him, she would never have this beautiful slice of the world, all to her own. To you, doc!

When the birds stopped feeding, Drizzilla took a long inhale, braced herself, put Burgess on her shoulders and slipped into the piercing cold water. She was used to it by now, so much so that she barely shuddered. It was time to swim with her babies and even if she was unable to fly, she was one hay of a swimmer!

As she swam through and underneath the lake, the birds capable of swimming following right behind her and re-emerging only for quick breaths, Drizzilla's thoughts returned to her earlier encounter with Jellybean and that lousy beauty pageant of hers. She was glad to have head-butted the brat, but her remarks did manage to strike a nerve. She was right, unfortunately. How in Equestria could she hope to even enter a pageant, let alone win it? All that specialised magical makeup was meant for to comfortably go out in public, not parade herself to a crowd of bozos. Not that she wanted to partake in such appearance-centred tripe, but still…

It would be worth all the bits in the world to see the look on Jellybean's face if the fat filly lost.

So a teeny tiny idea sparked deep within the dark depths of the lake. One that formulated and branched off as Drizzilla's swim went on, enough so that by the time she poked her head out of the icy water, a long, bile dripping, and toothy smile stretched across her wet, ghastly face.

She would get even, and with enough time, quills and a hay of a load of paper, she would have just the plan.

Chapter Five

Ponyville:

The Next Generations

Chapter Five

Mayor Glasseye was in no merry mood that evening. The lines around his face and under his eyes, the bulging glass one especially, showed it. He hardly even nursed the tall open can of cider he held in his hooves. His political life was currently on the line. Twilight Sparkle, that bitch, was closing in on him in the polls and no matter how hard he tried to divert or kill them off, journalists and cops were digging further into his...connections. As Election Day drew closer, the incumbent mayor of Ponyville became more stressful at the increasingly apparent and strong possibility of losing his seat of power, and all the additional power and wealth that he attached with it.

He sat across the long dining table in the hollow, dust-gathering dining room of Diamond Manor. The owner of the manor was sat at the far end and her guards stationed by the doors on the inside of the room and out, and the only other pony sitting down in the dining room was one of Glasseye's unnamed sycophants. A six-pack of ice-cold cider was set on the table top and being shared between them.

But the Mayor was not the only pony not enjoying himself. Diamond Tiara was on her eighth cigarette of the night, creating a miniature mountain of ash and butts in her tray like she did almost every other night. She had several things swimming through the perpetually pissed off mob boss' mind at the same time, and none of them were positive.

She blew out a stream of smoke, saying quietly to the stallions without looking at them directly, "This Twilight Sparkle. She's becoming a serious pain in my flank." She twirled the holder around playfully. "She's gaining unsettling ground, Glasseye. That's not a good sign for you, especially in terms of your mandate and popularity."

"I am aware of that, Diamond Tiara, but the situation's difficult. She's not your typical whiny liberal feminist; she's a smart bitch with some serious names behind her. I've seen the polls. We're neck and neck. It doesn't look good. Unless I pull a rabbit out of the hat and soon..."

"You're going to win."

"You don't know that to a certainty."

"You're going to win."

"Then why're you so pissed about Sparkle doing well?"

"I'm allowed to be pissed off, aren't I?" She blew a stream of smoke out her nostrils. "You're going to win, but Sparkle isn't a problem that'll just go away after the election. She's gonna be on you like a parasite."

He took a swig of his cider. "So what do you plan to do about her?"

"What do you think? Discredit and if I have to…blow 'er brains out. Nothing really different."

"Oh. So you're just venting, then?"

"Basically," she said, shrugging before leaning forward in her chair, putting her hooves on the table. "Besides, I got bigger fish to fry, right now. We need to figure out what to do about Cobbletrot. He's moving in on my protection."

Glasseye took out a silk hoofkerchief and dabbed it against his perspiring forehead. He was sweating a lot as of recently.

"Ah yes, I was meaning to talk to you about that," he said in a tone of voice that said he most certainly did not want to talk about it, but eventually would have to. "Look...I went and had a meeting with Mr. Cobbletrot at the 'Bloody Hooves' earlier today--"

"You what!?" Diamond Tiara nearly spit the cider out her mouth.

Glasseye held his hoof up as if to calm her and continued slowly, "We discussed the situation. He doesn't want to kick off something with you, Diamond, and frankly, I'm inclined to believe him."

"What!?"

"Diamond, I have a campaign to run. The last thing I need right now is something like a turf war." Glasseye reasoned with her as best he could, but at the same time, kept up a brave front. "I'll win, as you've said, but you're the one going on about a strong mandate. Cobbletrot and I both agree that for the time being, there needs to be a kind of 'peaceful co-existence' between the two of you--"

Diamond Tiara got up and banged the table so hard it made the third pony nearly break his silence and fidget uncomfortably in his seat. She ignored him and hissed at Glasseye, "You're getting a cut, aren't you, you son of a bitch!"

"No, I am not," he told her firmly, still keeping a calm composure. "I just want a Détente. I'm trying to act a facilitator here, Diamond."

She did not respond, and instead paced back and forth restlessly by her chair, grumbling and thinking the situation over.

She stopped after about a minute, her back facing Glasseye and declaring, "Nope, can't do it."

"Why not?"

"He stole the Apples from me. I can't forgive him for that."

He groaned at hearing that, putting his hoof to his head, saying, "Diamond, I'm sure he didn't even know about--"

"Oh, he knew. He knew how much I wanted the Apple family under my hoof! That little bucker stole them just to spite me! I'll fix them, though. Oh, I will..." She raved on, banging the table. "And you want me to work with 'im?"

"I never asked you to work with him." At this point, Glasseye was getting frustrated with Diamond Tiara's stubbornness. "I'm just asking you not to start a war!"

"A war? Are you serious?!" Diamond Tiara was almost laughing at his concerns. "Glasseye, there isn't going to be a war. That runt doesn't have the guts. But if you're pissing yourself with worry, Glasseye, I'll give it to ya straight..." She walked back to her chair and sat down. "I'll hold back as much as my generous temper will allow. But if Pipsqueak pushed me any further, and I mean any further…he's dead, election or not. Got it?"

The mayor knew it best not to pursue the matter any further, at least, not right now while Diamond Tiara was still in her bad mood. He nodded, took his can of cider and drunk the remaining fizzy half.

Knock, knock

She irritably rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder and barked, "What?"

"It's me, boss," called Snail's voice from behind the thick ornate door. "Snails."

"Oh, I've been waiting for this. This oughta be good!" Diamond Tiara growled as she practically leaped off her chair stormed to the door. She reached the door and grabbed the handle, telling Glasseye and the third pony before opening it, "Be back in a minute, gentlecolts." She slammed the door, shaking everything that was not bolted down. Immediately afterwards, the stallions heard a horrific shriek from the other side of the door, regardless of its supposed thickness. It was loud enough to even shake up the third pony's barely touched can standing on the table, spilling some of its contents onto the varnished surface.

Moments later, the door opened and Diamond Tiara's head popped back in, forehead sweating and pulsating and she said, "Meeting's over, boys. Just wait here a few minutes, then you can leave."

She pulled back her head, slammed the door even harder than before and spun around and shoved Snails by the collar up against the filthy wall.

"Who...was it!?" Diamond Tiara hissed with so much venom that it might as well have been spewing out her mouth. "Was it those damn Griffins!? Dogs?! Gobs!? ...was it COBBLETROT!?!"

"NO! NO! U-uh, I-I mean...w-we don't know! I-I mean, I don't know, I'm just the messenger," Snails insisted fearfully, tilting his head back to the wall, as if fearing she was going to gouge his eyes out. "Snips told me all we know is some punks jumped our boys at the exchange. It was pitch-black, boss, these guys took out the lights! Snips said our boys were taken completely off-guard!"

In an arc of pink, Diamond Tiara slapped Snails hard enough to send him to the floor. He scrambled up against the wall in a slumped sitting position, staring up at the livid mare and holding his damaged muzzle.

"Look, they left all the fakes alone. They just took the guns! I dunno why, but they just did--GAAARGH!!!" He was cut-off midway when she took out her own gun and smashed the butt of it across his forehead, creating a small gash.

"Shut the buck up! I don't want your pathetic excuses!" Diamond Tiara pointed the firing end of the gun inches from in between the new guy's eyes. "This town BELONGS TO ME! ME! Nopony steals from ME! Not that punk you took my two million, and especially not Cobbletrot! And don't you dare say it wasn't him! Now you go tell Snips that you idiots better find out just what the buck is going on here and butcher those buckers who took my damn guns. If you don't…" She lowered the gun so that it aimed at Snip's stomach. "I'll shoot you through the spine!" She twisted it around and pistol whipped him across the head once more and stormed off down the hall. "Oh, and go tell dumb and dumber they can leave now!"

Snails held his gash and managed through clenched teeth, "Yes...yes, ma'am." He remembered something and though it pained him, he yelled after her, "Wait. Wait!"

She turned around and snapped, "What?"

"We...we hired a hitmare to take care of that punk who swiped your two million."

"And that's important how?"

"It's, uhh...the good news following bad?"

A pulse was visible on Diamond Tiara's forehead. She flared her nostrils and muttered, waving her gun about, "Just get in there, you idiot."

The last surviving member of the Diamond family spent the next hour roaming the dark halls of the decaying mansion, knocking over furniture and pounding the walls as she stewed in her anger. There was hardly a piece of furniture in halls left undamaged by the end of the night.

This town belonged to her. Not Glasseye, not Twilight Sparkle, and certainly not Cobbletrot. It was all her property, like her father's and his father before him and so on. But now some noponies thought they could just waltz up and help themselves to a slice?! Whether Cobbletrot was behind this or not, she knew what it was: a challenge.

Fine, if they really wanted to die, they could just try and take Ponyville from her...though there were far easier ways to kill oneself.

Brrriiiiiiiiiiiing, went the school bell. It was the start of another long school day for the youth of Ponyville. They were pulled out of bed, shoved out the door and sent off to continue their years long preparation for the rest of their little lives.

There were now far more schools in Ponyville than there were, say, a decade ago, before the 'Great Gallop Forward' was on the horizon, but the one almost every pony parent wanted their child to get enrolled into was the oldest, 'Ponyville Elementary'; the one that most ponies of child-rearing age had attended themselves in filly or colthood. It was not just nostalgic value for them; it was a pretty darn good school that produced quite exceptional results and the student body itself was almost entirely made up of ponies (though its diversity was gradually becoming apparent with time), especially compared to the many new, less quality schools cropping up around town.

Naturally, with its student body expanding, the building of the school had to expand with it. It had to be at least four times bigger than its original form, with the result being an ugly mesh of wood and concrete. The staff had to grow as well, with new faces as well as old.

Cheerilee was one of those old faces, having now become what many ponies saw as a permanent feature of the school. She was starting to feel the effects of age like her cohorts, but was in good spirits, having finally married her 'very special somepony' and having a colt of her own with him. She had a loving family, a job that was her passion and had already planned her family's holiday to Gobelvania that year. What more could a mare need?

The classroom in which Cheerilee taught was currently filled with all forty-five of her students and as she was yet to arrive, they were left to their own devices. Most of them were chatting loudly over each other or got up from their desks and huddled in groups of their friends. Some took out their Batmare comic books to read, often in groups and out loud (complete with altering their voices to fit the characters), others their trading cards to either trade or actually play games with them as they were designed for. A paper airplane also found its way through the room, landing square in a colt's eye, who appropriately screamed, "OW! MY EYE! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO GET PAPER IN IT!"

The classroom door opened and in walked Cheerilee and immediately the class began to settle, with students returning to their desks and shoving their junk back into their desks and bags.

"Good morning, class," she beamed.

"Good morning, Mrs Cheerilee," they echoed, some less enthusiastic than others.

Cheerilee approached her desk, but stopped to look back at the still open door and beckoned, "Come in, sweetheart, we haven't got all day, now do we?"

Bookworm entered the classroom, as timid as a young Fluttershy and keeping his head held as low as possible. He felt the sniggers of his classmates jab him like needles. It was not easy being the smart colt in class, but it was especially hard when your mother was the teacher. He went to his desk and did his best not to draw attention to himself the rest of the day.

Within minutes, Cheerilee set down her bag and completed the register. All students were present and accounted for, the first time in a month. So far, so good.

"Alright, class, settle! Settle!" Cheerilee addressed her now much larger and diverse class, speaking loudly over the chatter that returned after registration. "Before we begin with today's lessons, I've got some important news."

"Shhh! Quiet, Miss Tenure's talking!" came a remark from a student sitting in one corner of the classroom; a Changeling male who sported a wild electric blue mane. He was one of the hoofful of his kind who attended the school, including some of his many brothers and sisters, two brothers of whom, Buzz and Gorgol, were sitting in the corner with him. All three of them broke out in a cackle at his remark, along with the majority of the classroom and Gorgol patted his elder brother on the back.

"That's one strike, Deetle! Do NOT push me, today!" She warned the boy angrily, pointing her hoof at him. As a teacher, her professionalism made her unable to hold prejudices and neither did she truly hold any, but this particular troublemaker and to a lesser extent, his brothers, were a constant pain in her neck from day one.

Many Changelings in Ponyville and all around Equestria had trouble getting their children into good quality schools than the pony majority and most other minority group like griffins and goblins. It did not help how Changelings enrolled their children into schools considerably less than other species. The majority of these children ended up attending poor quality schools with lackluster teaching and a pandemic of low supplies, especially in (often inner-city) neighborhoods with a heavy Changeling face to them.

The boy named Deetle, his brothers and the other Changelings in the school (most from Reinchapel) were very lucky to be here, but this macho, disrespectful and furthermore, disruptive attitude displayed by Deetle and his brothers irritated Cheerilee to no end and created a daily battle between them.

Deetle mockingly made a zipping motion with his hoof across his lips, and Cheerilee gave him a warning glare before she went back to addressing the class.

"Anyway...as you all know, the school is currently under a process of expansion. So starting next week, there will be new students joining our class..."

For a lot of students, Cheerilee's presence faded out in midsentence, allowing them to do their own thing until their immediate attention was required.

Drizzilla was one such filly; she was perched at a desk in the far end of the large classroom by the window, mostly out of Cheerilee's range of view and earshot. She propped up a large book to act as a front as she took some things silently out from her desk and licked her lips. A few seats behind her was Jellybean, fidgeting uncomfortably in the tight space which forced her large tummy against the desk edge. Many of their "friends" and associates like Jack N Box were conveniently in their class, as well.

"...so naturally, we'll have to move in a bit closer to make way for more desks."

"What!? But it's already cramped in here!" Jellybean blurted out from the back. She was pulling her belly away from the desk edge to relieve the soreness.

"Jellybean, what have I told you about shouting out?" Cheerilee admonished her, giving her a stern look.

"Sorry, Mrs Cheerilee," Jellybean put back on her smiling sweet mask. She frowned when the teacher turned away and muttered bitterly, "Still is, though."

Before Cheerilee could continue, Deetle shot up his hoof. "Question!"

She mentally sighed. "Yes, Deetle?"

"Are they all gonna be inkies?"

"What?"

"Are they all gonna be Changelings? Like me and my bruvs? I know one of my cuzzes is comin' here."

"I don't know, Deetle."

Actually, it did not take a genius to guess the majority of these new students were going to be Changelings. These de-facto segregated "Changeling schools" were grabbing the attention of journalists and activists alike, so the government was coerced into starting 'quotas' for good, mainly pony dominated schools, to try and end this so-called segregation.

"Now today, class, we're going to be continuing with our algebra."

The whole classroom broke out into a chorus of booing led by Deetle and his bruvs, the former raising his hooves to encourage the volume.

"Enough! Class!" Cheerilee raised her voice over them and tapped her hoof on the floorboards twice until they quietened. "There'll be none of that in this classroom. Listen, I understand math isn't the most thrilling subject in the world, but you're going to need it later in life."

"Question!" This time, it was Jack N Box who raised his hoof.

"Yes, Jack?"

"How?"

"...what do you mean?"

Jack tilted his head. "How's math gonna be so important when we're grown up, especially algebra?"

"Well, it...you see--"

"It's just that, I mean, unless I'm doing a job that I really need math for, then what's the point?" he shrugged innocently and pointed at the Fez hat he was wearing for the day. "I'm gonna be travelling hat salespony when I'm grown up. How's learning algebra gonna help me with that?"

This prompted a filly sitting near to him to speak up before Cheerilee could attempt to answer. "And I'm gonna be a supermodel!" She boasted, flicking her mane and daydreaming of herself on the catwalk in Canterlot.

Precious leaned back in her chair and yawned lazily, "I'm totally just gonna marry some rich stallion and live off all his bits."

Soon, nearly all the students in the classroom were shouting out their dream jobs that included no need for any understanding of mathematics, or science…or any academic subject whatsoever.

"Quieeet!" Cheerilee said with a harsh enough tone to silence them. Her patience was starting to run thin. "You're all going to learn math, whether you want to or not. And you're gonna learn it because I say so, now textbooks out! Page 69!"

"Ha! Sixty-nine!" Bigmouth, a moronic colt who had a reputation for not knowing when to shell the Tartarus up and thus aptly named, guffawed and elbow nudged the filly sitting next to him. "Am I righ--"

"Now!"

All the students rushed to get their math textbooks out of their bags and to the appropriate page, in case they incur their teacher's rare wrath.

Cheerilee's smile returned and went over to the chalkboard and pulled down on the projection screen. However, what was revealed on the board behind it made her scowl and the students bite their tongues to supress their laughter.

On the board was a crude chalk drawing of a fat Cheerilee dressed up like a clown and surrounded by flies. Underneath was scrawled in capital letters was 'BIG FAT MEANY'.

She glared back at Deetle and barked, "That's strike two, Deetle!"

"What?! I didn't do anything!"

"...oh yeah. I did do that."

After Cheerilee wiped the image from the board, the lesson properly began. Unfortunately, most of the class proved to be lacking behind in their mathematical abilities, and the scores on their last quizzes could not deny. To be more specific, it was mostly the pony students who were not doing so well, with notable exceptions including Drizzilla and her Bookworm. The few minority students on the other hoof, Deetle and the other Changeling children included, were excelling.

"Come on, everypony, you should all be able to do this by now," she sighed exasperatedly, pointing up at the equation on chalkboard. "What does x equal? Anypony wants to at least take a guess?"

Jellybean put her hoof up. "Sixteen?"

"Sorry, dear. Close, but wrong. Anypony else?"

The only griffin in the class, Twistbeak, slowly raised his claws. "Achtzehn?"

"In man language, please, dear."

"Eight...teen?"

"That's correct. Thank you, Twistbeak." Cheerilee turned her back to the class and chalked up the answer, and Jellybean took this time to reach out her leg and angrily kick Twistbeak's chair. The griffin frowned but said nothing.

Later that day, the class had moved onto their history lesson, a subject that was more highly received by the students. The topic they were currently working on was the Griffo-Changeling war, 1499-1503 A.D. (After Discord).

"After four years of intense combat, an armistice was signed that ended the fighting in the war, and marked a victory for the Changeling Kingdom and a complete defeat for Clawdor, although not technically a surrender," Precious read aloud from the textbook as she stood up from her desk. "The peace between the two nations would subsequently be settled in 1504, at the Cloudsdale Peace Conference, and later the same year, the Treaty of--ow!" She felt a sharp pain in her back and looked over her shoulder at Jack N Box, who ducked his head behind his own textbook.

"Is there something wrong, Precious?" Cheerilee asked.

"Jack poked me with a pencil!"

"No, I didn't!" Jack protested, poking his head over his book.

Cheerilee looked skeptical, but said sternly, "Jack, I've got my eye on you, mister. Precious, continue."

Clearing her throat and pushing a strand of her mane from her face, Precious returned to reading from the book. "...the Treaty of Cloudsdale. The key delegates at the Cloudsdale Peace Conference included Princess Celestia, the Griffin Kaiser, Otto V, the Changeling King, Cocoon I--OW!!" She spun around at Jack, whom had barely returned to his seat and fumbled with his textbook, which he was now reading upside down. This time the little jerk had pulled her mane. "Knock it off!"

"Knock what off?"

"Jack N Box, I saw that!" Cheerilee scolded, marching over to their desks. "If you can't leave Precious be, then I'm putting you somewhere else. Get yours things and switch places with Bigmouth toot sweet."

Jack begrudgingly did as he was told and found himself moments later sitting far away from Precious in the back.

"Now, whose turn is it next to read?" Cheerilee skimmed through a list on her desk. "Drizzilla. Continue where Precious left off."

In the corner where Drizzilla was sat, the Pegasi filly gulped and stood up, holding the textbook right up close to her face, blocking it from view.

"Negotiations...were difficult. King Cocoon's demands included...high...reparations which came to...three billion in Equestrian bits..." Drizzilla's voice sounded distorted, like she was talking while chewing on something. It certainly raised a few eyebrows amongst her fellow classmates.

Rolling her eyes, Cheerilee strolled casually over to the filly's desk and held out her hoof. "Whatever you're chewing, spit it out, Drizzilla."

"I'm not chewing…anything."

"Now."

A low, painful groan emanated from behind the book. With great reluctance, Drizzilla slowly lowered the book to reveal her face.

"Oh, Drizzilla!"

In her mouth were the half-devoured remains of a fish. The carcass was locked tight between her false teeth, squeezing juices and little chunks of meat that went dribbling down the corners of her mouth and chin. She smiled nervously, but only made herself look more ridiculous.

The classroom was at first dead silent, until Jellybean's lip trembled and she broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter, followed by a frenzy of laughter by the rest of the class. In their defence, though, seeing a filly with a raw fish in her mouth was definitely to them something hilarious to behold.

"Ha ha! Lookit, Drizzilla eats raw fish!" Jellybean cackled, pointing at her and the others joined in on the teasing.

"Dang, that is gross!"

"Hey, Drizzilla, want some bread and butter with that?"

"She's a big, fat penguin! Hahahaha!"

Drizzilla scowled and buried her head in her chest, dropping the fish into her hooves. Her cheeks were blushing and she was clearly on the verge of tears.

"Class! Stop tha--" Cheerilee tried to interject.

"Hey, Drizzilla, I'll give you another fish if you clap your flippers!" Jellybean stood up and began clapping her hooves together in an imitation of a seal. "Hahahahahaha!"

Drizzilla shivered in her seat answered quietly in an equally shivering voice, "Oh, that's okay. I've had enough..." She turned to face Jellybean, her face bright scarlet and tears pouring from her eyes. She held the fish overhead and pulled it back. "HERE!" With all her strength and some good accuracy, she flung the carcass in her classmate's direction.

All eyes followed the projectile as it whistled through the air and land Bullseye on its targets: Jellybean's face. The filly first just sat there in stunned shock, letting the fish slide off her face and fall in her lap, until she took in a deep breath shrieked horrifically, crumpling up like a paper bag.

"Alright, now that is ENOUGH!" Cheerilee pounded her hoof into the floor so hard it caused her own desk behind her to wobble. Not a single peep was made after that, not even from Bigmouth, who even held his hoof to his lips to make sure. Cheerilee straightened her mane and took a breather to recompose herself and finally readdressed the class calmly, "Drizzilla, Jellybean, take that fish, throw it out and go wait in the hall for me."

Neither had the guts to defy her and silently left the classroom, heads held low and Drizzilla holding the fish in her teeth.

"Appletini, pick up where Drizzilla left off..."

"I don't get it, Fluttershy. It's like, just because you're their mom, everything bad that happens is automatically you're fault!"

"Uh-huh, I'm listening..."

That was half-true. Fluttershy was in the middle of tending to the many animals under her care outside the cottage she and her family still resided, feeding her rabbits some alfalfa from a satchel she was wearing when Rainbow Dash arrived, lounging on a thick cloud on her back. The blue Pegasi was on one of her many breaks of the day and decided to visit her friend, who was willing to chat but also trying to juggle her workload at the same time. Naturally, their conversation drifted onto a familiar subject; their kids.

"I didn't know it was gonna start raining, yesterday, it wasn't even supposed to!" Rainbow Dash insisted, even though there was little doubt Fluttershy believed her. She was telling her about Drizzilla's 'incident' the other day and its aftermath. "Derpy Hooves told me the night before...okay, maybe that was a bad move." She admitted with a sigh and continued staring straight up at the sky, legs crossed and holding both forehooves behind her head.

"And she thinks it's your fault? Oh my, that's really bad."

"She wouldn't even talk to me when I got home," she continued, a hint in her voice suggesting she felt bad. "She looked pretty upset..."

Fluttershy stopped her tending for a moment and looked their other way as she answered slowly, uncertainly, "Well, that is understandable, what with her...conditions and being out in public and all."

"Yeah..."

"It sounded like, from what you told me, she was pretty scared, too."

"Yeah, I guess she was."

She kept her eyes away and began feeding seed to a bunch of birds, but said it anyway, "Also, you actually sound like you do feel guilty about it, if just a little."

Rainbow Dash sat up on the cloud, facing opposite her friend's direction and muttered just loud enough for Fluttershy to hear it, "I heard her crying in her room." That was the closest she would get to saying 'yes'.

"Oh," Fluttershy suddenly felt bad herself and ducked her head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

She hesitated, making sure to think it over first, before asking, "D-Did you go to comfort her?"

"Tried. She yelled at me to leave her alone. She didn't even talk much when I dropped her off at school, this morning, either." The blue mare's inner guilt was now becoming increasingly transparent. She let out a heavy sigh, blowing a strand of her multi-coloured mane from her view, "Why do I always manage to make things worse with that kid, Fluttershy? I just don't know what to do with her, half the time."

"Hmmm, well..." Fluttershy rubbed her chin. "What do you do with Drizzilla?"

"Eh, the usual stuff. Yell, send her to her room, smack her over the head--"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, not like that. Sorry, I-I was talking about how you both spend your free time together. You know, what you do as mother and daughter?"

That question left Rainbow Dash stumped and embarrassed. She went quiet and shrugged her shoulders, still facing the other way as she murmured. "Uhh, w-well...you want me to be honest? Not a lot."

This answer took Fluttershy by surprise and she cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head in confusion.

"Really? But surely there has to be something the two of you have in common. I mean, most of the time, Soarin isn't around, so--"

Rainbow Dash turned back to her and let her belly slump against her cloud, lowering it so they were within closer hearing distance of each other. From the look on her face, she was not impressed by what Fluttershy said, like she could not see the glaring problem, even though it was in front of her.

She took in a deep inhale through the nostrils and asked her friend, "Okay, Fluttershy, what's the one thing I like to do every day and at every opportunity?"

"Uhh, flyi--oh. Ohhh..." Fluttershy once again went sheepish as realisation dawned upon her. She then said in a hushed voice, putting a hoof next to her mouth and looking around, all in the baseless fear that somepony was listening in. "You mean it's about her...special condition?"

She did not bother answering that question for there was no point, and instead went silent before asking in a defeated tone, "How do you and Jellybean do it, Fluttershy?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, come on! You two barely fly at all, but you spend plenty of time doing stuff together. What gives?"

Fluttershy shuffled her hooves and appeared offended, as much a pony like her could, that is. "You know, Rainbow, flying isn't the only thing Pegasi do." She noticed the animals she had been neglecting and went back to feeding them as she talked. "I mean, you know how I feel about flying, and Jellybean just doesn't want to. She says it makes her wings cramp up. But we do plenty of other things together," she said, smiling warmly as she recalled their many activities. "Like sewing, cooking, watching soaps, taking care of animals, she's such a little dear..."

"Tell me about it. I wish my kid could be as behaved as yours. Let's face it; Jellybean's pretty much the perfect filly."

"Well, hold on, every filly and colt has their faults, Rainbow. I mean, even Jellybean tends to eat a lot more than she needs to, especially when it comes to cookie dough and...stuff..." Fluttershy trailed off, realizing this was leading nowhere and returned to the matter of Drizzilla. "But it's like I said; flying isn't everything. You do other things too, Rainbow, like, uh…like sports."

Rainbow Dash turned on her side, shrugging as she said, "Meh, I tried. She's not really into that. I took her rock climbing, once."

"How'd that work out?"

"Imagine the world's largest hooves down the world's largest chalkboard, in front of a whole crowd of Pegasi," she scowled and squinched her eyes at recalling that particularly embarrassing memory. "That kid would not stop whining about her mane getting ruined. She's more of a girly girl. Have no idea where she gets it."

"Hmm, 'girly girl'..." Fluttershy muttered, furrowing her brows and replacing some of the animals' water bottles. She perked up and smiled at her friend. "Hey, I just had an idea, Rainbow. If Drizzilla isn't into that kind of stuff, how about something more, well, girly?"

Intrigued, Rainbow Dash sat herself back up. "Like what?"

"Like the pageant my daughter does, every year. It's only in a couple of weeks and lots of fillies are taking part. It sounds like the sort of thing Drizzilla would enjoy."

Getting up and stretching her back, Rainbow Dash gently descended the cloud and landed gracefully in front of Fluttershy, frowning most sceptically and asking, "A pageant? You seriously want me to put Drizzilla in a beauty pageant?"

"Uh...yeah?"

She ran circles around her face, saying irritably, "I think you're forgetting the whole 'face' issue."

"I thought that's why she wears makeup."

A good point, but still not enough to convince her entirely, so she sighed and said, "Okay, okay…I'll think about asking her."

"That's wonderful, Rainbow, I--"

"FLUTERSHYYY!!! HEY, FLUTTERSHY!""

It was a loud, nasally voice, coming from inside Fluttershy's cottage. Both mares cringed and Fluttershy quietly told her friend, "Excuse me, one moment..." She turned around to face the cottage and answered with an uncharacteristic yell, "WHAT!?"

"WHERE'S MY BOWLING BALL!?"

"HOW SHOULD I KNOW!? WHY DO YOU NEED IT!?"

"I'M GOING BOWLING, WHAT ELSE WOULD I NEED IT FOR!?"

Fluttershy stomped her hoof and hard. "OHHH NO! YOU ARE NOT--" She added to Rainbow Dash in her previously calm and collective manner before dropping her satchel of animal food and taking off, "Sorry, Rainbow, we'll have to talk later. I gotta take care of this...NO! YOU ARE NOT GOING BOWLING AGAIN, MARZIPAN!! THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK!"

"ARE YOU MAD, WOMAN!? THIS IS THE TOURNAMENT!"

"DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! I'M NOT GOING TO STAY BEHIND AND DO ALL THE WORK WHILE YOU GO PLAYING SOME STUPID TOURNAMENT WITH YOUR FRIENDS! AGAIN!"

Left alone, surrounded by the feeding animals, Rainbow Dash thought about her previous conversation with her lifelong friend. A pageant contest? For somepony like Drizzilla?! At first, it sounded absurd, but it did not sound that bad an idea when she thought about it. It could work, if done right. The least she could do was bring it up to Drizzilla. Where would be the harm in that?

Realising her break was now long over, Rainbow Dash took off and resumed her duties as weather captain, leaving behind the sounds of yelling and breaking of objects coming from the cottage. Despite how hard she worked, the images of her daughter, slavered in makeup and wrapped up in a pretty dress, walking down the catwalk with her head held high and then wearing a golden tiara and holding a bouquet in victory and actually smiling for once remained in her mind for the rest of the working day.

"I killed a mare with my own teeth."

"That's some bullcrap!"

"Honey, I will kick your flank!"

"I'll rip your legs off and beat you with 'em."

The bowling tournament had begun. It was one of the biggest events on the Ponyville Calendar. Ponyvillians of all ages and species came together this time every year to clash balls in hopes of obtaining glory beyond their wildest dreams. The ponies of this town took bowling really seriously.

Sweetie Belle stood with her back to the lane and her hind leg raised. She closed her eyes and drowned out the loud cursing and threats made by the bowlers at each other. Tempers tended to run high at this tournament; security was bumped up just in case. Worst of all, it distracted other players from playing at the top of their game. The best way Sweetie Belle tried to keep calm and focused was by thinking of the calm blue ocean at the beach where she spent her summers as a filly.

"A calm blue ocean...clear skies...soft sandy beach..." She mumbled, smiling serenely. "Oh, and there's a hermit crab and he's found the most beautiful new home and--"

"Just bowl the bucking ball already!"

Bam! Strike!

"Buck yeah!" Sweetie Belle cheered, prancing back to the bench. She stopped momentarily when passing their rival team and said faux sweetly to them, "Don't worry if any of you missed that. They'll be plenty more to come. Ta."

Allie Way, a unicorn and veteran bowler, growled and got up from the bench, but her teammates held her back.

"Way to go, Sweetie Belle!"

Apple Bloom looked up annoyed from the score chart and her cup of cider at Scootaloo, who was walking out from the crowd of ponies in the packed alley and descending the steps to join them. She was carrying with her her bowling ball bag and a twelve pack.

"Where the hay were you?" Apple Bloom chided her. "You're twenty minutes late. We had to start without you."

"I had to stop by the Laundromat and pick up our team shirts. Check it out," Scootaloo replied proudly, dropping the bag, unzipping it and taking out a white bowling shirt that read in black 'THE BOWLING DOLLS'.

Allie and her team threw their heads back and laughed.

"Wow, you must've really sprung for those, Scootaloo," she remarked sarcastically.

Scootaloo hoofed out the shirts to her team. "Oh, this coming from the mares who've been wearing the same shirts for the last ten years straight?" This made the rival team examine their black and pink shirts in confusion before returning evil glares at her. "Look, enough trash, let's get bowling."

"Fine by us," Allie scoffed and then said to her own team, "C'mon girls, let's take these foals to school!"

As the game got underway, Apple Bloom's attention quickly drifted away. She slouched in her chair in silence and kept staring glumly at her cider until whenever she was called up to bowl. She was not as excited by the tournament as she thought she would. The fiasco over the chickens and Applejack constantly being on her back over it was depriving her both of sleep and her ability to focus on her game, just like Scootaloo said.

Apple Bloom, now a young mare, conceded to a life working on the family farm and bowling. School days were long gone and upon at last obtaining their cutie marks, the Cutie Mark Crusaders dissolved, beginning what Sweetie Belle once referred to as 'the post-crusade'. Apple Bloom's life was, by most pony's standards, pretty good. There were certainly no major complaints, other than it was boring. She had no 'special somepony' in her life, nothing to look forward to when she got up every morning. Applebucking was definitely something you had to have a passion for, that's how Applejack and Big Macintosh could keep doing it after all these years. Too bad it was not the same for her.

Honestly, bowling was the only big thing going on in her life at the moment. It was also the only real thing her and the ex-Crusaders did together, other than the occasional film night or night out on the town. But now, she was unable to enjoy that.

"Snips!"

Sweetie Belle bolted from the bench and climbed the steps to greet and hug a familiar opal Unicorn stallion who was walking by their lane. He looked quite surprised to see her, not necessarily in a happy sense. Scootaloo rolled her eyes in disgust and proceeded with her roll, but Apple Bloom watched on.

"You came to watch me bowl!"

"Uhhh, sure, I came to watch you bowl, that's it." Snips tucked down the slips and bit bills that were sticking out of the pockets of the black trench coat he was wearing. "Who wouldn't wanna see his girl kick some flank?"

"Oh, Snips, you're such a charmer. And the other night..."

Neither Apple Bloom nor Scootaloo were sure if Sweetie Belle truly understood just what kind of scumbag she had hooked up with. They tried more than once to convince her he was "garbage" and she should dump his worthless flank, but Sweetie Belle would always go on about how "they don't see the gentle side of him like she did".

As much a complete load that was, Apple Bloom had to give her props for at least having somepony, unlike herself. Seriously, she hoped something exciting happened soon, she did not care what it was.

"Hey! Over the line!"

Scootaloo's sudden outburst brought Apple Bloom out of her daze. The gamboge Pegasus was confronting Allie Way, who had just picked up a spare.

"Excuse me?" Allie asked angrily, sounding offended by Scootaloo even suggesting such a thing.

"Over the line, Allie! I'm sorry, but that's what we bowlers call a foul."

"I was not! You saw it, didn't you, girls?" Allie looked to her team, who nodded in support. "Thought so." Allie marched over to the Bowling Dolls' lane and pointed at Apple Bloom. "Mark it a spare, Apple Bloom."

"Excuse me!" Scootaloo walked up next to her friend and nudged her shoulder. "It's a zero. Next frame."

Now Allie just felt outright insulted. Who did this little punk she was? "I'm the professional bowler here!" She barked lividly and glared daggers at Apple Bloom. "You better mark that a spare!"

"Don't you dare. Allie, this is ten-pin bowling. We have rules."

Apple Bloom found herself caught between a rock and a hard place. Neither pony was backing down. Being a mature pony who preferred non-confrontation when possible, she tried her to reason with Scootaloo, saying, "Come on, Scoots, it's just—it's not a big deal. So maybe Allie slipped a little, maybe not, it's just a game."

Both Scootaloo and Allie looked at her as if she were sprouting a fifth leg out her forehead.

"This isn't some namby pamby friendly game, this is the tournament! This is a matter of integrity."

Allie had had enough. "That's it..." She shoved past Scootaloo and used her horn magic to take the marker Apple Bloom. "Gimme that. You won't mark my spear, I will."

Narrowing her eyes to slits, Scootaloo returned to the bench but instead of just sitting bitterly and letting the matter slide, she rummaged through her bag.

"Allie, mi compadre..." she began. She found what she was looking for, wrapped loosely in a cloth, and took it out. "...you're entering a world of pain."

A mare shrieked and heads turned at the spectacle unfolding in the lane. Allie went wide-eyed. Scootaloo had pulled out a switchblade.

"Go ahead. You mark that spare, but you're entering a world of pain."

"You wouldn't..."

She brandished the blade, the overhead light reflecting the stainless surface. "World-of-pain, Allie."

"Apple Bloom, will you control your crazy friend or--"

"Has the whole world gone CRAZY?!" Scootaloo screamed, leaping from her seat and making everypony in the alley jump in fright. "AM I THE ONLY PONY HERE WHO GIVES A DAMN ABOUT THE BUCKING RULES?! MARK IT ZERO!!"

The same mare who shrieked ran outside the alley, either out of fear of her own safety or going to get the police, because the security ponies were just as scared as everypony else. Sweetie Belle and Snips ducked behind the barrier outside the lanes and looked over the top with increasingly fearful expressions.

"Scoots, c'mon, put yer butter knife down..." Apple Bloom mumbled, facehoofing in embarrassment. She knew Scootaloo did not have the guts to go through with it, but nopony else knew that.

"MARK IT ZERO!"

"Are you bucking insane?!" Allie cried fearfully, and shrieked when Scootaloo grabbed her by the collar, pulling the blade back like she was about to ram it into her.

"I'M NOT BUCKING AROUND HERE, ALLIE, MARK IT ZERO!!

Allie's horn glowed and the marker flew up and quickly marked down a zero on the frame of the score chart. Scootaloo gave Allie one last death glare and released her hold on her shirt and shoved her back.

"All right, there it is! It's bucking zero! Are you happy, you lunatic?!"

"Rules are for everypony, Allie," Scootaloo muttered bitterly, folding the blade and returning to her seat to pack it away.

"Okay, everypony, show's over. Return to yer lives," Apple Bloom instructed the still horrified crowd, who gradually returned to their business. It was not before bowling balls rolled down the lanes and the sounds of clattering pins and cheers and general normality returned to the alley.

'Well,' Apple Bloom thought, drinking her cider. 'That was exciting.'

In the confusion, nopony noticed the brown parcel set next to Apple Bloom's bowling bag on the bench.

Drizzilla and Jellybean were given detention during lunchtime for their behaviour, Drizzilla for eating during class and Jellybean for instigating the teasing. They were to write lines one-hundred times each on the chalkboard, then sit quietly at their desks for the remainder.

"This is all your fault," Jellybean complained as the two stood on their hind legs upon stools before the board. Her lines were 'I will not make fun of other fillies'. She grasped her rumbling belly. "They're serving pizza today and now I'm gonna miss it."

Under normal circumstances, Drizzilla would have replied with a comment about Jellybean being so fat, she did not need any more pizza, but she was still bitter from history class earlier. She had never been so humiliated in class before. Cheerilee was kind enough to let her go wash her face in the restroom when she was scolding them in the hall.

"I can't believe you were eating a fish. You're such a weirdo."

Drizzilla remained silent and added the full stop to her fifteenth 'I will not eat in class'.

Jellybean was getting irritated. "Stop ignoring me!"

"I'm sorry, Jelly, did you say something?" Drizzilla smiled at her, feigning ignorance. The glare Jellybean returned was enough to alleviate her sour mood, if just by a bit. She set down her piece of chalk, hopped off the stool and walked towards her desk.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm hungry."

"We can't leave, remember?"

"Who said anything about leaving?" The pale blue Pegasus filly opened her desk and took out, surprise surprise, a small, dead, raw fish.

Jellybean recoiled in disgust, nearly falling off her stool. "Ugh! Wait until I tell Cheerilee you--"

"Tell her what?" She scoffed, dangling the fish by the tail and without a hint of hesitation, tossed it in the air, caught it in her mouth and swallowed it whole.

Her face literally turned green and she held her mouth, letting out a loud gagging sound. "And you wonder why ponies call you a fre--" She shut up right away when Drizzilla stomped up to the stool, a fresh smoulder in her eyes.

"Careful, Jellybelly," she said, ascending her stool and picking up her chalk. "You wanna second bruise to match the one on your chest?"

Jellybean awkwardly reached up to touch the faint bruise visible on her chest, having lost anything else to say. They stared each other down for a moment, before returning to their neglected chalkboard punishment.

What seemed like forever later, the two fillies were reaching the end of their lines. Jellybean was halfway done with her ninety-first when the ache in her foreleg became unbearable.

"Ohhhh, I can't take this, anymore. My leg's gonna fall off." She rubbed her foreleg and kissed her hoof soothingly. "How am I supposed to pose, tomorrow?"

"Pose for what?"

"My dress for the beauty pageant. My mom and I got an appointment and..." She stopped when she remembered whom she was talking to. She sighed heavily, forcing her hoof to the board, "Okay, Drizzilla, go ahead. Make your jokes."

Surprisingly, Drizzilla did not churn out any insults over Jellybean's participation in the upcoming pageant. Instead, she said, "Oh no, Jelly, go on. I'd like to hear more."

Jellybean blinked. "What?"

"Tell me more. What kind of dress you gonna get?"

"Uh...something green, maybe?"

"Awesome."

She blinked again, and then shook her head and eyed her suspiciously. "W-wait a minute, since when did you care about my pageant?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Drizzilla put on a grin and waved her hoof like it was no big deal. "I'm thinking of entering that silly pageant, myself."

Screeeeeeeee! Jellybean's chalk snapped in half against the board.

"WHAT?!!" The yellow Pegasus filly shrieked, getting up in her face, eyes flaring and spit flying out the mouth. "All you've done is make of my pageant and me, and now you wanna compete?!"

Drizzilla flicked some spit from her face and struck a pose, smirking confidently. "Well, you did say it was about beauty and talent, so in that case, it shouldn't be a problem for me to win."

Words were momentarily at a loss for Jellybean. She stared at her rival with a blank face. She then started giggling and it grew louder and louder until she finally arched her back and gave a laugh wicked enough to compare to a young Queen Chrysalis.

"Oh! Oh, okay! Fine!" She grabbed her sides to stop them from bursting like a dam. "You wanna humiliate yourself in front of the whole town, be my guest. It'll make this champion's victory even sweeter."

"Bring it on, champ. I'll kick your flank so hard, you're gonna need a transplant!"

"It is on!"

"You bet it's on!"

"I don't hear any chalk on board in there!" Cheerilee's voice came from beyond the closed classroom door.

By now, the filly's snout and foreheads were pressed hard against each other. They yelped and got right back to work.

Brrriiiiiiiiiiiing, went the final bell. The school day was over, and the parents and guardians waited outside the school gates for their children to come out so they could take them home.

The groups of parents were split into two groups. The first, on the right, was the larger group, made up exclusively on ponies, whilst the second, on the left, was significantly smaller and consisted of essentially non-ponies. Both groups seemed entirely indifferent to each other, not interacting or physically acknowledging the other even existed. But throw in a few picket signs, banners and megaphones you may have thought, on first sight, it was a standoff.

Rainbow Dash arrived just as the bell rang and stood with four of her friends, nearly completing the Mane Six. She scanned the scenery and gave a nod to a Changeling female in the opposite group, a shop owner she knew for a while now and probably the only non-pony in town she talked to on a regular basis. She then stretched her neck to see if she could spot Drizzilla coming out, though at the moment, not even the doors had opened.

Rainbow really wanted to talk with that filly about the pageant. The idea had grown on her over the day and she had already gone over in her head dozens of times how to ask her if she wanted to take part. She knew her kid was sensitive on the issue of her looks, so she would have to walk on eggshells when they talked about it.

As the school doors opened and children started trickling out the building, Rainbow Dash and Rarity wound up in a one-sided conversation with another mare, one whose name they did not really know but according to their kids, she was Bigmouth's mother.

"I mean, it's not like my baby doesn't study hard. I tutor him myself," she boasted, putting a hoof on her chest. "He deserves far better grades than Cheerilee is giving him."

Rarity tried to conceal her distaste for the snooty mare with an insincere smile. "Undoubtedly."

"If you ask me, this school's standards are seriously going downhill," she said, tilting her head suspiciously towards the group of non-pony parents. "And from what I've been hearing, it's only going to get worse."

"Uh-huh," Rainbow Dash murmured, eyes rolling at Rarity, who shared the same dry, unimpressed expression.

"I'm seriously considering taking my son to another scho--"

"'scuse me," she held her hoof up to cut the mare off and yelled over at a trio of Changelings coming out the school. "Hey, Deetle! Deetle!"

Deetle and Gorgol were chasing after Buzz when they heard the mare. Deetle slowed down, but continued walking and answered, "Yeah, Mrs Dash?"

"You know where Drizzy is? She's usually out by now."

"Cheerilee's having a go at her and Jellybean. They got in trouble, today. Detention at lunch."

The rainbow mare slapped her forehead and groaned, "Oh for the love of...thanks, Deetle."

"No proble--hey, get back here, Buzz, so I can mess you up!" Deetle returned to chasing after Buzz, who was getting a good distance ahead, though Gorgol was catching up. The brothers usually played this game on their way to magical tram that took them back to Reinchapel; chase Buzz (and other days, Gorgol) and give him his beating before they reached the tram stop.

"Nice kids," she said to Rarity, who nodded. The other mare looked offended and appalled by the two. Rainbow noticed this and smirked, cocking an eyebrow. "Problem?"

The mare looked like she was about to say something when at that moment, Bigmouth came strolling innocently towards them. She took his hoof immediately and walked off, glaring and harrumphing at the other mares, sticking her snout up proudly.

"Bitch," Rarity said plainly and the group then laughed, save for Fluttershy, who was more concerned about the trouble her daughter had got in.

At last, the fillies and colts came out the school and the group dissolved once more, the last two being Drizzilla and Jellybean. Rainbow Dash picked hers up, said her goodbye to Fluttershy and took off in the air with Drizzilla climbing tightly onto her back.

This left Fluttershy and her daughter two of the last creatures outside the gate. The only other parent and child pair was Twistbeak and his tall, bald-headed, and sharply dressed father, who loudly berated his son for what he viewed as his untidy feathers.

Fluttershy took her daughter home. Along the way, she apprehensively asked her about the detention she received that day. Jellybean had planned for this and hid the note she and Drizzilla were given to give to their parents out of sight as best she could. She put on the waterworks and made up some bull story about how she tried to stand up for Drizzilla in class but Cheerilee wrongfully thought she was the perpetrator.

It worked, of course. It always did. Her mother took her for ice-cream.

Meanwhile, in the skies, Rainbow Dash double-barrel rolled through the more densely populated skies of Pegasi, griffins and Changelings. Clear, open sky to fly in was harder to find at school pickup time.

"Mom! Mane!" Drizzilla squawked, keeping her vice-like hold around her mother's neck.

"Oh, alright." Rainbow Dash, against her will, slowed down and flew less like a wonder bolt. Yet without focusing all her attention on her styled flying, she remembered the pageant. Now was better than never. "Say, uh, kiddo...?"

"Yeah?"

"I was just wondering...do you have any plans for the next couple of weeks?"

This prompted Drizzilla to remember the pageant herself, and how she had neglected to give her parents any of her intentions to enter. Not to forget, the deadline to sign up was tomorrow.

"Well, Mom," she snuggled her head against her mother's neck. "Now that you mention it..."