The Doctor is In

Chapters

Back to Frickin' Square One
The Worst Frickin' Slumber Party Ever
We're Not in Frickin' Kansas Anymore
We're Off to See the Frickin' Wizard
Frickin' Child's Play
The Emperor's New Frickin' Clothes
A Heartfelt Frickin' Apology
The Frickin' Breakfast Club
Revenge is Frickin' Sweet, Yet Not Fattening
First Frickin' Contact
One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Frickin' Blue Fish

Back to Frickin' Square One

...This is the alien? Twilight thought incredulously. I expected something… different.

“And why are they all deformed and colorful?” the creature questioned out loud, looking down at Twilight. He was much taller than her -or anyone else in the dead-silent group- standing at twice her height. “Did I land in a frickin’ toxic waste dump?”

“Uh… hello?" said a cautious Twilight, standing her ground even as her voice was filled with anxiety.

The alien immediately looked down at her, his eyes seeming to grow slightly larger and his eyebrows travelling half-way up his forehead. He raised a bony finger up to point at her. “...Buuuh…” was the noise that came from his mouth.

“Um, yeah...” Twilight said uneasily. “So, first off, I’d like to welcome you to-”

“Oh God the purple horse is talking,” he said faintly, standing up straight and pacing back and forth. “Why the hell is it frickin’ talking to me?”

“Well,” Twilight began again, “we’re not horses, we’re-”

“God damnit!” he then shouted spontaneously, walking back and kicking one of the pod doors shut, though it just flew back open. “Mustafa, what did your frickin’ pod do to me? Why am I seeing creepy midget horses everywhere?” He then winced, lifting his foot up and shaking it.

“Are you alright?” Twilight then asked him.

“No, Frau, I’m not,” replied the creature, who then set his foot back down and turned to face her. “Due to the incompetence of our Arab engineer, I seem to be suffering from extreme hallucinations.”

Hallucinations? Is that what he thinks we are? “...Well, I’m sorry about that, mister, uh..?” she said, trailing off.

He crossed his arms and stared at her, a look of irritation on his face. “Are you frickin’ kidding me here? You mean to tell me that after a measly thirty years, you can’t remember my name?”

“Uh…” Twilight gulped, taking a couple steps backward. He’s been frozen for thirty years?

“Well, I suppose it’s to be expected,” he said. “You’ve most likely grown quite old and decrepit. Things begin to fade from ones mind as they age.”

“Wait, huh?” I don’t look that old, do I?

“My name is Doctor Evil, Frau,” he stated. “Say it with me; Doctor… Well? Say it, Frau, you’re making me look like a frickin’ fool in front of the henchmen.” He gestured to the large group of ponies that surrounded them still. As his hand made its swooping motion, most everyone in the crowd flinched, which caused the alien to smirk.

“...Doctor…” Twilight repeated reluctantly.

“...Evil…”

“Evil- Wait, evil?” Twilight looked up at the alien once more, eyebrows raised. “You’re evil?”

“So you do remember me!” the doctor exclaimed, appearing pleased. “I knew you couldn’t forget your old employer.”

“You’re…” Twilight took a deep breath. It’s okay Twilight, it’s probably only a name. I mean, he can’t really be-

“So how goes the quest for world domination?” he then asked her. “Have we brought the world to its knees yet?”

Her pupils shrank. Okay, so he really is evil. Great. “Uh, well…” She stammered. “I, uh…”

Then, out of nowhere, Twilight heard a cat meow.

“Ah, Mister Bigglesworth!” the doctor exclaimed, turning back towards the small cabin. “Come to dad-DAH WHAT THE HELL?!” He was taken aback as what Twilight thought was the ugliest cat in existence -a walking bundle of pink flesh with absolutely no fur whatsoever- jumped down out of the pod and trotted towards the alien, who held a fist over his mouth and an open hand towards the hairless pink feline. “What the hell happened to you?!” he yelled, crouching down and picking up the cat in his arms, stroking it. “What happened to your fluffy coat?” His face was one of lament and anger. “Where is that frickin’ imbecile?!”

Oh, mayby that’s what those little fibers were! she thought. “Who?” Twilight inquired.

“Mustafa!” he shouted. “That frickin’ jackass is responsible for all of this!”

“...Who..?” she asked once more.

He sighed, annoyed. “Okay Frau, I believe your age-induced dementia is getting out of hand. Are you seeing a doctor about it?”

“What? No, of course not!” she said, irritated. I’m not that old!

“Then at least promise me you’ll do a frickin’ puzzle or something every once in a while,” he said. “It keeps the mind agile.” Then, he looked back out into the crowd, before shouting, “Quit ogling me like I’m frickin’ Frankenstein and get back to work!”

On that note, the crowd began to dissipate: some walking, some running, and some actually pretending to perform any sort of work that they could think of. All who remained were Twilight and her friends, who stood slightly behind her. The doctor sighed. “Where is Number Two?” he then inquired towards her. She gave him a clueless stare, and he groaned. “Number Two, where the hell is Number Two?” He was growing impatient.

“...Oh!” Twilight exclaimed, a light bulb going off in his head. He must mean the restroom! Makes sense, being stuck in space for so long. “Uh, right inside there,” she said, pointing to the Town Hall. “The room directly on the left, I think.”

“Oh, good,” he said, setting the cat down and turning towards the Town Hall -and the pod that crushed the steps to the porch. “Oh, frickin’ wonderful,” he muttered, before walking ahead and climbing -unskillfully- up the steps, straddling the guardrail for support. After a moment, he stood at the top of the demolished stairway, leaning forward and holding his torso up on his knees with his arms. And after a moment of rest, he walked towards the door and walked through, muttering something incoherently.

“That’s yer alien?” Applejack questioned, walking up beside Twilight.

“I-I guess so,” she said, stuttering a bit. This is our first contact? A clueless ape -with absolutely zero understanding of age perception- and his hairless cat? This isn’t quite as, well, exciting as I thought it would be.

“Uh, did anyone else catch the bit about world domination?” Rainbow Dash said, her brow furrowed. “Clearly he’s some kind of supervillain, and he needs to be stopped!”

“I agree,” chimed in Rarity. “If he’s to wreak havoc in our beloved town, then he simply cannot remain here any longer.”

“Then it’s settled,” Applejack said. “Now, uh… how’re we gonna make him leave?” No one replied with words, but rather with puzzled expressions. “Really? Ain’t nopony got any ideas? What about you, Fluttershy?” The group all turned towards the yellow pegasus, which was currently holding and petting the purring shorn feline, oblivious to the stares she was receiving. “Fluttershy,” Applejack called once more, louder this time.

Fluttershy looked up quickly, before setting that cat down and grinning sheepishly. “Oh, uh… I don’t know.”

“Well it’d probably be a good idea to alert the Princesses,” Twilight said. “That is, if the ship’s landing hasn’t alerted them already.”

“Let’s send her a letter then,” Rainbow Dash said. “Where’s Spike?”

“He’s back at the treehouse, asleep,” Twilight replied.

“Well then, let’s wake him up!”

“Hang on a sec, girls,” Applejack interjected. “Anything else seem a lil’... off with him?” She received many stares. “What I mean is, he don’t seem t’ really grasp th’ situation, y’ know?”

“Come to think of it, he did seem that way,” Rarity added. “But what relevance does that have?”

“Well, why not just play along?” Applejack offered. “At least until the Princesses get here. So long as we go along with his loopiness, he won't hurt nopony. And that way, we might be able t’ learn a bit more about him.”

“...Applejack, that’s genius!” Twilight exclaimed. That’s a really good idea… but why didn’t I think of it first? ...I wonder if anypony sells puzzles this late at night…

“Okay, ha-frickin’-ha,” shouted Doctor Evil, who was now attempting to climb back down the steps. “Make a Number Two joke, like I haven’t heard that one a million frickin’ times... God- could someone frickin’ help me down?”

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy both flew ahead of the group that now approached the alien, and grabbed him by the shoulders, lifting him a bit above the ground before setting him down on the grass. The doctor then wobbled on his feet a bit, grabbing his stomach.

“Oh God… Gonna vomit…” he slurred, hunched over for a moment. After his fit of sickness subsided, he leaned back up to see the two pegasi hovering above the ground. “...Right…” he said, pronouncing the ‘i’ as ‘oi’ and ending on a hard ‘t’ sound. “Uh, good work, henchmen. As you can see, I’m not quite as limber as I was in my youth.” Then, to Twilight, “Surely you can relate, Frau.”

Before Twilight could say anything, Applejack gave her a glare. Twilight then sighed, and put on a big, fat, fake smile. “Absolutely, Mister Evil!” she said, faux enthusiasm oozing from her words.

“Tone it back a bit, Twi,” Applejack whispered in her ear, before looking up at the alien with a far more genuine-looking smile. “So how can we help ya, Mister Evil?”

“That’s Doctor Evil,” he corrected in irritation. “I didn’t go through all the trouble of stealing a degree to be called a frickin’ Mister.”

“Anything we can help ya with, Doctor Evil?” Applejack repeated.

“Indeed, henchman,” he replied. “Once more, I want to know where I can find Number Two.”

“That’s easy,” she said, pointing back towards the Town Hall. “It’s right in-”

“The Doctor doesn’t mean that number two, Applejack,” Twilight said not unkindly.

“Thank you, Frau,” the Doctor said. “I’m of course talking about my good- Wait, Applejack? Your name is Applejack?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah...” she replied with a raised eyebrow of her own.

The doctor held a fist over his mouth and hunched over once more, groaning as though he had been kicked in the stomach. It took Twilight a moment to realize he was holding back laughter.

“Uh, somethin’ funny?” Applejack asked, clearly annoyed.

“No no,” he responded, his face scrunched up in agony. “That is a very good na-HNNNN-” And once more, he hunched over and groaned into his fist.

Applejack huffed, clearly offended. “Uh, maybe you girls should go on ahead without me,” she said. “Before I go an’ do something I’ll regret later.”

After his moment of mirth had passed, he straightened his back and rested his hands on his hips. “Okay,” the Doctor said, breathing a bit heavier. “I’m losing my frickin’ patience with this. Where the hell is Number Two? I’m not going to ask again.”

“Uh…” Twilight was clueless. If he doesn’t mean the restroom, what could he possibly be talking about?

“I’ll be your Number Two!” Pinkie Pie finally said, who seemed to materialize from right behind the doctor and stand by his side, looking up to him.

“...You’re Number Two..?” the doctor said, donning a suspicious look.

“Sure!” she replied cheerily.

“...Right… Well, uh, it’s good to see you again, Number Two,” he said, still unsure. “You certainly have changed in the last thirty years.” Then, to Twilight. “So I’ll ask again; how goes the campaign for world domination?”

“Uh, well, it’s going,” she said nervously.

He gave her an unimpressed stare, folding his arms across his chest. “So in other words, we’re back to frickin’ square one?” When she didn’t immediately reply, he rolled his eyes. “Well isn’t that frickin’ peachy. Do we at least have any more plans?”

“...That was more your specialty, wasn’t it?” Twilight asked, hoping to fish more information out of him.

“While that may be true,” the doctor began, “that can’t mean you haven’t thought of anything since my departure, can it?” When Twilight didn’t respond, he sighed in frustration. “Well then what the hell have you all been doing since I was blasted into space? Twiddling your frickin’ thumbs? Playing frickin’ Tiddlywinks?”

“...Uh…”

The doctor held his face in his hand, taking a deep breath. “Assemble the executives and bring them to the conference room,” he commanded, removing his hand. “We must discuss the future of our evil organization. Now, where is the conference room?”

“It’s actually inside,” she responded, pointing a hoof towards the Town Hall.

Following her hoof, he looked back at her with a suspicion. “You really expect me to fall for that old cashew again?”

“It’s not a trick,” she asserted. “Go inside, left hallway, last door on the right.”

Hesitant, the doctor turned around, walking forward but stopping at the steps. “...Shit,” she heard him mutter, before he once more scaled the broken planks of the stairway.

--Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here--

Twilight stared at the office chair that currently was facing away from the table, wondering why the doctor wasn’t facing the other ponies. The room was large enough to accommodate a large, 20-foot long oak table surrounded by ten chairs of the same material, and one lavishly-crafted office chair at the head of the table that currently seated the alien -who seemed to favor facing the wall rather than the rest of the group. Going clockwise and starting with Doctor Evil, the ponies seated were Twilight, Rarity, Mayor Mare, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie, with Applejack at the other end of the table.

“So,” said the Mayor after ten minutes of silence, “now that we’re all here, what exactly are-”

“Zip it,” said the Doctor faintly.

“I beg your pardon?” she replied agitatedly.

“Okay!” he said, much louder. “Now that I have you all here, I believe it is time for us to discuss our ultimate goal of…” He spun his chair around with his feet -with obvious effort- and turned to face the table, his shorn cat purring in his lap. He then pursed his lips and held a pinky to the corner of his mouth. “...World domination?” he said, adding an upward inflection as though it were a question.

“And just how exactly do you plan on doing that?” Rainbow Dash inquired.

“That’s a good question, generic executive number one,” he replied. “I have in fact concocted several evil plots since my cryostasis, and each one of them is better than the last.”

This is brilliant! Twilight thought to herself. He’s going to spill everything to us without even knowing it! She could barely hold back the grin that slowly formed across her face.

“The first plan came to me during the initial freezing process,” the doctor began. “In my irrational desire for warmth, I created the mental blueprints for a hyper-concentrated heat beam which I’ve designated as a-” Raising his hands, he extended the first two fingers on each hand and curled them downward. “-laser. This-” Once more, he performed the gesture. “-laser, will be aimed at the outer layer of our atmosphere that blocks the suns rays known as the-” Again, her curled his fingers. “-Ozone layer, slowly but surely increasing the chance of causing skin cancer unless…” Once more, he brought his pinky to his mouth. “...they pay us a hefty ransom?”

“Except the sun doesn’t cause skin cancer,” the Mayor rebutted plainly.

He tilted his head ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow. “Oh they disproved that, huh? Well no matter, I have several other plans in mind.

“Now, from what I’ve been able to gather,” he continued, “the royal family is quite wealthy, yes? ...Well, yes or no?” he questioned, receiving several hasty nods. “Thank you! I mean I’ve been gone for thirty frickin’ years, so don’t expect me to know any of this crap.

“Anyway,” he continued, “what I’m thinking is that we threaten to blackmail the prince with a falsified affair unless…” Once more, the pinky met the corner of his mouth. “...we were to receive one lump sum?”

“There is no prince,” the Mayor said, unimpressed. “There are only the princesses, and neither of them are in a rela-”

“Princesses?” the doctor parroted. “As in two of them, together?” The group nodded in affirmative. “Oh, so homosexuality is no longer frowned upon, is it?”

“When was it ever?” Dash questioned. “...Wait a sec-”

“Well if that plan won’t work,” he interrupted, “then let’s do what we always do; hijack a nuclear warhead and hold the world hostage, hmm?”

He received several more blank stares, and out of nowhere, he slammed his fist down on the table, jarring both the group at the table, and the cat in his lap. “What the hell’s the matter with all of you?” he asked angrily. “Can we not sprechen sie the same lingidy anymore? Have you all changed that frickin’ much in the last three decades? I mean throw me a frickin’ bone here!” He turned to Pinkie Pie. “Number Two?” he asked with great remorse, “Surely you and I still understand each other, yes?”

“I have no idea!” she replied with a cheery grin.

The doctor took a deep sigh, before holding his cat out in front of him. “Here, someone frickin’ take him from me,” he commanded exasperatedly, to which Fluttershy quickly flew over the table and retrieved the cat, before flying back to her chair. All the while, Doctor Evil just stared at her with a furrowed brow. “...Right…” he finally said. “Well, seeing as how it’s clearly night time, I order you all to get a good night’s sleep; tomorrow, we have a lot of evil ground to cover.” He stood up out of his chair, walking towards the door. After opening it, he looked back towards the group at the table, and added, “And the first order of business? Someone get me a frickin’ automatic chair,” before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

The moment he left, the Mayor got out of her chair and took a seat in the lavish office chair at the head of the table. “That’s better,” she said, pleased.

“Well, that was… informative…” Twilight said, scratching the back of her head. And we’re supposed to be afraid of him?

“Indeed,” replied the Mayor. “He doesn’t seem to be all that, well, intelligent. Certainly, he shouldn’t be a threat, though I’d much rather wait for the Princesses to decide that for themselves before we make any rash decisions. Do any of you know when they might be arriving?”

“They’ll probably arrive shortly after we send the letter,” Rarity said, “considering its urgency.”

The Mayor raised an eyebrow. “It hasn’t been sent yet?”

“Spike’s still asleep,” Twilight inserted. “I was planning on sending the letter in the morning, if the Doctor wasn’t going to be too much of an issue.”

The Mayor nodded. “Certainly. But he’s right about one thing; we are all in desperate need of sleep. So I recommend that whoever will not be taking care of him get a good night of sleep.” After becoming the recipient of several confused expressions, she added, “Well someone’s going to have to keep him entertained for the night. If he really was frozen for thirty years, then odds are, he won’t be going to sleep. So, who’s it going to be?”

“Ooh!” Pinkie exclaimed, wrapping a hoof around Fluttershy’s neck, “Fluttershy said she would do it!”

Fluttershy’s pupils shrank. “P-Pinkie, I never said-”

“Splendid decision!” the Mayor stated in approval. “Of all of you, I would believe that Fluttershy would be the most qualified to handle this particular situation. So good night; and to you, Fluttershy, good luck.” And with that, she left the room the same way that Doctor Evil had. Everyone else stared at Fluttershy, who was currently stiff and shaking.

“Don’t worry, sugarcube,” Applejack said reassuringly. “I’m sure he won’t be much of a bother, an’ you can always count on us if y’ need help.”

“...Okay…” she ceded, looking down at and petting the cat. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“That’s the spirit!” exclaimed Rainbow Dash, before letting out a rather loud yawn. “Well, I’m heading home. See you all in the morning!” And with that, everyone in the room began to disperse, leaving Twilight the last to leave. Though, she stopped dead in her tracks when a thought had occurred to her.

Wait, I missed the meteor shower!

Author's Note

Chapter Two, and our first look at our favorite villain. I tried to stay in-character as much as possible, though as the Author, of course I think I did a shit job. But that's for YOU to decide!

So tell me if I suck! Tell me if I kick ass! Tell me if there's a bug on my back! ...Seriously, is there a bug on my back? I can feel it moving, but I can't see it.

The Worst Frickin' Slumber Party Ever

Fluttershy hovered out the front door, holding the purring cat in her front hooves. It felt weird to her, holding a hairless cat. It was almost like holding a large, skinned potato.

Upon leaving the Town Hall, she had taken notice that almost no one else was outside, save for her, her friends, and the creature that sat down in a bench on the porch, staring up at the giant spaceship that still loomed over the town square with folded arms and an expression of distaste. I thought there’d be more ponies outside, she thought to herself. But then again, it is pretty late.

The moment she exited the building, Doctor Evil raised a hand up to the giant statue, looking towards her. “Where are all the henchmen?” he asked her.

“Probably asleep,” she replied with honesty. “Why do you ask?”

“They should be taking care of this frickin’ eyesore,” he said. “If it isn’t gone by tomorrow morning, someone’s getting incinerated… So, where are my private quarters?”

“...Y-You’re actually staying with me tonight,” she responded, before quickly adding, “I mean, if that’s okay,” in the hopes of avoiding confrontation with the creature from another world.

He sighed in reluctance. “It will do for now,” he stated. “So I take it that I don’t have a readily-accessible dwelling at this base?” She shook her head. “Then lead the way.” However, the moment he stood up, he then asked, “Okay, is there another frickin’ stairway I can use?” Fluttershy nodded, pointing to the left side facing the building, where an undamaged stairway stood. Following her hoof, he began walking around the building.

It’s okay, Fluttershy, she thought to herself in an attempt to keep her anxiety from rising. Maybe he won’t be too much trouble.

“You gonna be alright?”

Fluttershy yelped in surprise, flying straight up and hitting her head on the roof of the porch, before falling back down on her rump, the cat leaping from her grasp with a meow of disdain.

“Are you okay?” Twilight shouted, helping her up and back into a standing position.

“Yeah, I’m fi- ...Ow…” She rubbed the side of her head, which was currently throbbing with pain. “I’m f-fine, Twilight.”

“Are you sure?” Fluttershy nodded in affirmative. “Good. Don’t worry, the letter will be sent first thing tomorrow morning, and if he’s too much trouble, just come and get us, okay?”

“Hey!” called the Doctor, a ways away from the building. “You’re leading the frickin’ way, remember?”

Fluttershy quickly scooped up the cat -who released a hiss of protest- and flew over the fence. “I’ll be okay, Twilight,” she said, before flying over to hover alongside the Doctor, who was currently walking away from the Town Hall -and the massive statue.

He eyed her for a moment, before finally saying, “Okay, I have to ask; are you really flying, or is that a hallucination?”

Acid? “I-I’m really flying,” she responded.

“How?” he inquired. “Because from my perspective, you look like a yellow deformed horse with frickin’ wings.”

“Oh! Uh… Well…” What do I say? I can’t tell him I really am a flying deformed horse, can I? ...Wait, I’m not a horse… or deformed… am I..?

“I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow,” he continued. “But if it’s a jetpack, then I frickin’ want one. Maybe I’ll have Mustafa build me one before I incinerate him.”

Upon hearing the word incinerate, her spirits fell and her anxiety rose. “So,” she said, hoping to change the subject, “uh, how are you?”

“Well,” he began, keeping his eyes forward and his hands on his hips, “I’m tripping on frickin’ LSD, my cat has no more fur, and I’m fairly certain that the freezing process has left me impotent… But aside from that, I feel stellar, thank you for asking.”

“Uh… you're welcome?” she replied warily.

He turned to look over at her. “So what all has happened since my thirty-year sabbatical?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” she replied honestly.”I don’t really remember when you left.”

“You must be a newer henchman,” he stated. “Well, what all has happened in the last thirty years then?”

Fluttershy rubbed her chin in thought. “Well, there was the return of princess Luna,” she finally said. It took her a couple seconds of flying forward to realize that the doctor had stopped walking. When she turned back around, she saw that his arms were folded over his chest.

“Luna? Her name is Luna?” he asked incredulously. “So, not only are they lesbians, but they’re frickin’ hippies too?”

Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “The princesses aren’t lesbians… At least I don’t think they are… Also, what’s a hippy?”

After a second of staring, he brought his hands up to rub his temples, bowing his head slightly and exhaling loudly. “Fine, then where did Luna return from?” he questioned, holding his hands on his hips once more.

“Oh, she was banished to the moon for a thousand years,” Fluttershy responded. ...Wait, was I supposed to tell him that?

The doctor’s eyes went wide, his eyebrows climbing halfway up his forehead, his jaw slightly drooped. “...Banished… to the frickin’ moon… Okay, I’ll play along; why was she banished?”

No, I don’t think I was! Quick, Fluttershy, think! Her thoughts raced for an answer that would not reveal any more than what has already been said. Reluctantly, she chose to lie.

“...She… kicked a small animal,” she stated in a nervous tone. He just stared at her blankly, and she added, “On purpose, too.”

Suddenly, the doctor hunched over, grabbing his gut and letting loose a surprisingly-boisterous laugh that caused Fluttershy to flinch, almost losing her grip on the cat. Her heart skipped a beat, having not expected the alien to make such a loud noise so suddenly.

“Oh, are you okay?” she asked urgently, flying closer to the doctor.

The doctor slapped his knee twice with his hand, and straightened his back upward, taking a deep inhale. “Oh, I haven’t laughed like that since I was a little girl,” he said via exhale. “Thank you for that, henchman.”

“Uh, you're welcome?” ...I don’t get it.

“Well enough lollygagging,” he then said. “Lead the way, henchman.”

After a moment of staring at the doctor, she slowly turned back around, flying down the street with the doctor following close behind. Just then, another peculiar detail revealed itself to her.

He’s a girl?

--Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here--

The henchman had led him around for what felt like a half an hour, and they passed several strange structures, including many oddly-painted homes, a statue of a tall winged, horned and armored horse, and a tall building that the doctor could only describe as diabetes the size of Wisconsin. His legs began to grow sore -having not been used in thirty years- and he found himself taking several quick breaks along the way to rest them.

“How much longer until we get there?” he asked her on one such break, rubbing his calf.

“Not much longer,” she replied in a quiet voice. “It’s right up the road.”

“It’s about frickin’ time,” he muttered under his breath, shaking out his legs before continuing his brisk pace behind her. “You know, I never did catch your name, henchman.”

“Oh, it’s Fluttershy,” she responded.

He stopped in his tracks. Great, another hippy. What, did they turn our organization into a frickin’ commune while I was gone? “...Right…”

She turned around, still flying backwards. “Oh, is something wrong?” she inquired, with what the doctor brilliantly deduced was nervousness. He opened his mouth to speak, when something bolted from the shadows up ahead, speeding down the path at a rate that greatly alarmed him.

“What is that?” he said urgently, pointing at the anomalous silhouette. “What the hell is that?” Oh God, I hope this didn’t just become a bad frickin' trip.

“Hmm?” she turned herself back around, facing the creature that was now a mere twenty feet from the doctor. “Oh, that’s just Angel.”

“Angel?” Upon closer inspection through the partially-illuminated landscape -caused by the immense lunar body that hovered overhead- he saw that the foreign being was… a rabbit. God frickin’ damnit, he scolded himself. “...So is he really a rabbit, or…”

Fluttershy flew low enough so that the white, large-headed rabbit could climb up onto her leg, and from there into her arms alongside Mister Bigglesworth, who hissed at the new contact.

Well that solves that frickin’ conundrum.

“What are you doing out here so late?” she asked the hare. “You know you should be asleep.” The rabbit then proceeded to point directly at the doctor and utter several incoherent noises. “He’s going to be staying with us for the night. Is that okay with you?”

“Wait,” interjected the doctor, holding a hand up as though to physically stop her words. “You can understand that frickin’ fuzzball?”

“Of course,” she said with less timidness than before. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Sure, why wouldn’t you be able to carry on a conversation with that tiny little shit? “...Nevermind. Are we there yet?”

“Actually, yes,” she replied, directing his attention to what he considered something out of a Disney cartoon; a large, colorful cottage surrounded by birdhouses and a small stream that wrapped around the front, running under a bridge that led to what he assumed was the front door. It had a very homey, yet disturbing feel to it.

“Come on,” she said, compelling him to follow. “I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

“Sleeping? I’ve been asleep for thirty frickin’ years!” he rebutted, following her to the door. “The last thing I need right now is sleep.”

She opened the door and ushered him inside. “Oh, well that’s okay,” she said as he walked inside. “You don’t have to sleep.”

Inside was even worse; the living room was completely congested with sacks of animal feed and shelters, including birdhouses and artificial burrows. The smell of wildlife was incredibly strong in the room, and the doctor had to cover his mouth for a moment to adjust.

“Jesus Christ,” he said with disgust. “It smells like a frickin’ zoo in here!”

Fluttershy shut the door behind them, and set the animals down on the floor. “It’s not that bad, is it?” she asked him with a worried expression.

Suddenly, the doctor’s mind was flooded with memories, and after a few seconds, he lowered his hand and took another whiff. “...Actually,” he began, smiling, “its smell is almost identical to that of my childhood bungalow in Bruges.” Musk, copious amounts of fecal matter, small animals performing coitus in a dark corner; it’s like I’m a child again!

“Oh, well I’m sorry that it bothers you,” she said, “but there’s, um, not really anything I can do about it.”

“No matter; this will be sufficient for now,” he assured her.

Breathing a sigh of what the doctor deduced was relief, she flew backwards and hovered over a large green sofa that covered the length of the back wall. “I don’t have a guest room,” she explained, “so you’re going to need to sleep here, if that’s alright.”

“I won’t be sleeping,” he countered, annoyed. “I’ve told you this before, henchman. What, did it just go in one frickin’ ear and out through the other?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her jaw tensed and mouth frowning. “Well, if you decide to, then this is where you would sleep.”

She then flew through an archway that led into what he could only assume was a kitchen; a small ten foot by ten room with yellow-and-white checkered floor tiles, countertops lining the back and left wall, with a stove-cum-oven nestled into an alcove perpendicular to a chrome sink with a red clay basin. She opened the the refrigerator -which he immediately noticed was turquoise- and said, “If you get hungry, feel free to help yourself. There are dishes in the cupboards above the stove.”

At the mere mention of food, his stomach growled, and he tensed his gut. “I might have to take you up on that,” he replied. “Thirty years in space certainly piques one's appetite.” Figures, he thought, Mustafa wouldn’t even add a bag of frickin’ peanuts for when I got hungry. What form of punishment is more malicious than incineration? ...Starvation first, then incineration. Oh, I’m one evil little- wait, why is she staring at me?

Fluttershy was indeed staring at him, with a rather-uneasy smile. “What the hell are you looking at me like that for?” he questioned, folding his arms.

“Oh,” she then said, her smile fading. “You were smiling, and I didn’t know why.”

“I was?”

She nodded. “What were you thinking about? I mean, if I may ask.”

“Nothing a henchman need concern herself with,” he replied. “Now, I suppose you’ll be heading to bed now?” As if on cue, she held a “hoof” over her mouth and released a faint yawn, before nodding groggily. “Very well then, go rest,” he ordered. “Tomorrow is going to be a big day; the doctor is in the house.” He brought a pinkie up to his mouth proudly. That was quite clever of me, he thought, praising himself for his quip.

“Alright then,” she said, finally falling back to the floor and scaling a flight of steps that resided along the left wall flanking the doorway. “Goodnight, Mister Evil.”

“Doctor,” he corrected. “Frickin’ get it right, henchman.” He heard the ceiling creek overhead, and stood there listening for a moment, before strolling back into the kitchen. Once there, he opened the refrigerator to find…

Frickin’ hippy food.

Inside was an assortment of vegetables and fruits seemingly shoved inside; carrots, lettuce, apples and bananas were among those that seemed to populate the majority of the interior. Not without releasing a sigh of disappointment, he pulled out a carrot from the top shelf, eyeing it for a moment. He then grabbed two more, along with an apple, and an unlabeled jar of what he could only assume was milk, before shutting the door and walking back into the main room with the morsels he had recovered, only to find a familiar white rabbit staring him down from atop the back of the green sofa.

“What the hell do you want?” he questioned,setting the food down on a nearby table.

The rabbit mumbled something incoherent, before snagging a carrot from the table and taking a bite from it.

“I was gonna frickin’ eat that!” he exclaimed. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

It was at this point that Angel gave the doctor a rather rude and unbecoming gesture with his paw, before tossing the carrot and beaning him on the forehead, causing him to flinch.

“Oh, you little-” Suddenly, the doctor had an idea. A rather sinister idea. He grinned deviously down at the little furball before him, who gave him a puzzled expression. These carrots would go great with rabbit stew...

The doctor licked his lips dramatically, and Angel’s face drooped. In no time at all, the rabbit bolted down onto the floor, with the doctor chasing close behind.

“Come back here you fuzzy prick!” he shouted, trying to stomp down onto the bolting rabbit -who was nearly squashed on several occasions- before Angel tried to dash up the steps. “Oh no you don’t!” he yelled, before grabbing the jar of milk that he had retrieved from the table and tossing it, clocking the rabbit on the side of his head and flinging him into the wall, the jar shattering and shooting shards and milk everywhere. The rabbit then rolled down the stairs before falling to the bottom, soaked in milk and clutching his now-sore head.

“Hell yeah!” he shouted in glee. “Look at that, I’m a regular frickin’ Bob Gibson!” He pranced over, grabbing the neck of the destroyed bottle -the ragged edge making it the perfect shiv- before turning towards the now-standing rabbit. “En garde you little shit!” he cried, before lunging forward with the broken bottle.

Angel barely avoided the blow, leaping two feet straight up into the air and delivering a flying roundhouse kick to Doctor Evil’s face. The doctor flinched -though the blow inflicted no pain whatsoever- and swung a foot up to kick the hare, sending him flying through the air and into a hanging birdhouse, where he latched onto the peg and desperately tried to pull himself up. When the doctor saw that the birdhouse was about eleven feet high and suspended from the ceiling, he threw the bottle at Angel, completely missing the birdhouse entirely and shattering the weapon against the wall.

“Oh, now I throw like a girl,” he said sarcastically, looking around for something else to throw at the rodent. ...Oh, this’ll work.

Angel had no time to react as a live weasel collided with him, knocking him off of the birdhouse and sending him plummeting down to the floor, where he landed with a dull thud. The doctor then rushed forward and stepped on his fluffy -yet soaked with milk- tail, preventing him from escaping. The bunny beat on his brown italian loafer in a feeble attempt to free himself, with no success.

He then grabbed Angel by the ears, hoisting him up to meet with the doctor eye to eye. “Now, let’s go have a little rendezvous with the cooking pot, shall we?” he said, sneering.

“Angel!”

...Shit.

The doctor scrunched his eyes shut, wincing. “Shit,” he echoed through clenched teeth, before turning towards the direction of the voice. Fluttershy stood there on the steps, giving him a look of horror and dread.

“W-What are you doing?!” she managed to ask, her voice quivering and her eyes welling up with tears.

He looked between her and the rabbit several times, before settling on Fluttershy. “This little fricker started it!” he finally exclaimed.

She wiped her face with her hoof, before pulling it back away and staring at it. “Wait, why is there milk all over..?”

“He beaned me with a carrot!” he shouted.

Angel then made several more indecipherable noises, and in no time at all, Fluttershy seemed to transform from a timid little henchman to an incredibly enraged one, staring straight into the doctor’s eyes with pupils that stared deep into his soul. He felt as though she could peer deep into his mind -his very essence- and pick him apart piece by piece. Her lips curled back into a snarl, and she flew up close to him, her face inches from his.

“You set him down RIGHT NOW, MISTER!”

“...It’s Docto-”

“NOW!”

Immediately, his grip slackened enough for the bunny to fall down to the ground. He landed on his feet and quickly ran away; but not without first delivering a swift -yet ineffective- kick to the doctor’s shin.

“How DARE you try to hurt another living creature!” she reprimanded him. “Just because he’s one-twentieth your size doesn’t mean he only gets one-twentieth of your respect! How would you like it if someone big tried to hurt you?”

The doctor stood there, dumbfounded. “...But he frickin’ started it!” he finally replied.

“And now I’m ending it,” she countered, losing her volume but maintaining her scolding tone. “Now I want you to clean up the mess you made.” Still looking at the doctor, she pointed her hoof back towards the milk-stained steps.

Normally, he would have had the henchman executed for attempting to order the supremely evil mastermind to do anything besides keep being evil -and even then, the henchman would be punished with several lashings- but something in his mind told him that doing so was not the wisest path to tread upon.

Is she making me feel… guilty? he wondered. Oh, you manipulative little fluesy! ...Well played, henchman. Well played indeed...

“...Very well then,” he ceded. “But I am only doing so because I do not wish to be bothered by the smell of curdled milk, or by stepping on broken glass. Now, where are the cleaning supplies?” he asked, avoiding staring directly into her eyes.

“Under the kitchen sink,” she seethed. “I want the glass cleaned up too. And I want you to apologize to Angel for trying to eat him.” She then gave him a look that was part-infuriated, and part-who does that?

Me? Apologize? You’d have a better chance of me laying a frickin’ egg! “Oh fat chance I’m apologizing to some turd who-”

“I understand you’re upset,” she interrupted, “and it was wrong of Angel to initiate the conflict. But in the end, did he really hurt you?”

The doctor scoffed. “That little carrot-munching asshole couldn’t hurt me if he tried.”

“Then would he have deserved being eaten?” the henchman countered.

“Abso-frickin’-lutely,” he replied snidely. No one frickin’ assaults me and lives… Except Austin Powers… And his harlot sidekick. And his other harlot sidekick. And everyone at the Academy. And- Okay, not many frickin’ assault me and live.

Suddenly, the henchman returned to her previous enraged state, and the doctor felt squeamish. “Apologize!” she shouted.

Jesus Christ, she’s frickin’ frightening as a horse. He reared back, flinching. “...Fine,” he ceded. “Where is he?”

“Oh Angel~!” she called in her usual, gentle voice -though much more sing-song than normal. Her ability to transition so quickly both baffled and frightened the doctor. “Our friend has something he’d like to say to you~!” He then turned as he heard like thumping from behind him, to see the rabbit slowly peek out from the archway leading to the kitchen. He was looking warily at the doctor.

“Well?” she then said to him expectantly.

He sighed heavily, having acknowledged defeat, and reluctantly said, “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

He cringed, before adding, “I’m sorry for trying to turn you into ragoût de lapin.” He then looked back at the henchman, who gave him an approving smile.

“Thank you,” she replied warmly. Then, to Angel, “Now I want you to apologize.”

Angel seemed taken aback, and threw many incoherent nothings at the henchman. “For harassing our guest. I thought I taught you better than that. Now apologize.”

The rabbit sighed -Because apparently, rabbits can sigh now, thought the doctor- before looking up at the doctor and mumbling something.

“What was that?” the henchman questioned. With an even heavier sigh, the rabbit mumbled once more, louder. She gave him a smile. Then once more to the doctor, “You go get the cleaner, I’ll get you a pillow and blanket,” she said softly, before turning to fly back up the steps.

“I told you, I’m not-” Almost immediately, she shot him a glare that silenced him completely, before flying back upstairs.

Behind him, he could hear faint giggling, and turning around, he saw the rabbit on the floor, laughing hysterically. When he finished, he swung his arm down and made a “Wa-kish!” sound.

...Oh I get it! he thought. He’s calling me whipped! Well laugh now, you sniveling little rodent, because when this is all over… He reached down, and picked up the half-eaten carrot, before taking a bite of his own.

I’ll be having your nuts on a silver frickin’ platter!

We're Not in Frickin' Kansas Anymore

When she finally made it home, it was three in the morning. There were no lights on in the giant treehouse-cum-library when Twilight returned, her movements slow and her eyelids heavy. The night’s excitement had supplied her with just enough adrenaline to last until she climbed up the steps to her bedroom -almost tripping on a stray book- and falling face-first into her bed, knocked out cold. She didn’t notice the numerous scrolls that piled up in Spike’s circular bed. She didn’t hear the thunderous crackling of Spike's flaming sleep-belching, releasing several more letters into the growing pile. And she was completely unaware of the knocking on her front door an hour later.

She did, however, hear the door to the library get busted down, the sound of shattering timber echoing throughout the entire domicile. Twilight woke with a start, her pulse racing as she came to terms with the noise, and what it signified. Oh my gosh, is someone breaking in?

“TWILIGHT!” called an all-too-familiar voice. “ART THOU UNHARMED?!”

Her ears perked up, and she was assaulted with confusion. Wait, Luna is breaking into my house?!

“Princess Luna?” she called back. “Is that you?”

“FEAR NOT!” called the princess of the night. “I SHALL SAVE THEE!”

She heard several more hoofsteps outside growing progressively louder, until her bedroom door was destroyed just as the first; with Luna headbutting the door and knocking it off of its hinges, sending it to the ground with a powerful slam! She looked up at Twilight, was presently struggling with the blankets she now seemed entangled in -though she hadn't been using them at all.

“ART THOU UNHARMED?!” she loudly questioned once more.

Twilight nodded quickly, finally pulling herself from the comforter's grasp and standing at attention in front of the now-unkempt bed. “Yes I’m unharmed! Why did you break down my door?!”

“THOU DID NOT RESPOND TO OUR SISTER’S WRITINGS!” she boisterously explained. “WE SAW THE CATASTROPHE BEFALL-”

“Luna, with all due respect,” Twilight interrupted, checking a nearby clock, “it’s… four in the morning. Ponies are still trying to sleep. Do you think you could maybe speak a little quieter?”

“WE… will try,” she quickly mended. “We saw the fireball land amidst thine town, and you’ve not responded to our letters. We were worried, Twilight.”

“What letters?” Twilight inquired. “...Wait…” She turned her attention to the small dragon that lay amidst a myriad of scrolls. Burying her face in a hoof, she groaned in annoyance. “I’m sorry about that, Princess,” she began, directing her attention back to the nebulonically-maned Princess, “but I’ve been out all night and I didn’t even notice the-”

“T’is not what’s important right now,” she started, cutting of the unicorn. “What is important is that we know that nary a citizen was harmed.”

“Oh, nopony was hurt,” Twilight assured her. “Though, something important has come up.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Luna inquired.

Suddenly, Twilight heard Spike snore rather loudly. Turning around, she saw him jolt upright, apparently startled awake by the noise. “Huh, wuzzat?” he said groggily, before gazing upon the princess of the night. “Wait, Luna? When did you get here?”

Twilight facehoofed.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

Fluttershy woke gracefully to the sound of a rooster performing his morning ritual out in the distance. Opening her eyes, she lifted herself up out of her bed via her wings -which required a bit of stretching after being slept on all night- and checked a nearby clock.

Ten O’ Clock? That’s odd. He usually sings much earlier.

Looking out the window, she saw the rooster perched atop the coop, looking directly at her. It raised a wing and flapped twice -as if to wave at her- and Fluttershy waved back, smiling.

I think he knew I didn’t get back until late at night, she thought to herself. How sweet of him!

Stretching out her limbs once more, she dropped to the ground and left her bedroom, beginning her descent into the living room via the stairs. The first thing she noticed was the smell of sour milk. Her nose scrunched up in disgust. Ew, what is that? ...Oh, that’s right… Looking down, she saw that while the smell was strongest on the steps, there was not a trace of any visible milk residue, and the glass was nowhere to be found. Well at least he cleaned up after himself, she thought appreciatively. I’ll have to thank him for that next time I-

Looking over, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the doctor sitting upright in the couch, staring directly at her. His hand idly stroked the cat in his lap, who had focused its attention elsewhere. She took a step back in reflex, and her footing on the steps had been lost, causing her to fall forward before flapping her wings hard enough for her to hover over the stairwell. She stayed like that for a moment, until eventually she flew down to the living room floor.

“Have a nice, trip?” Doctor Evil asked condescendingly, placing a pinkie on the corner of his mouth and pursing his lips.

“I, uh, didn’t expect to see you awake,” she admitted, her heart still beating furiously. “Have a nice rest?”

“Of course not,” he said, standing up. “I told you that I didn’t need any sleep. I stayed up all night, plotting more evil schemes…” Something clicked in his head just then. “...Well, it appears that I’m still seeing horses. I suppose that was to be expected; the effects of being fed a hallucinogen for thirty years will most likely linger for longer still.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, donning a semi-sincere smile. It’s okay, Fluttershy, she thought to herself. Twilight’s going to send the letter today, so you won’t need to play along for much longer.

“Say, henchman,” he then began, “why don’t you fetch me something from the mess hall? Because quite frankly, I’d rather not eat any of that hippy-dippy crap in your refrigerator.”

“Uh, sure thing,” she said, relieved that she was allowed to leave.

“Also, where’s your restroom?” he inquired. “Needless to say, I haven’t used one in thirty years, so there’s a lot of build-up.”

...Ew. “It’s upstairs,” she said. He nodded, before walking up the steps -which cried in distress as he climbed- and out of sight. Fluttershy sighed, before opening the front door…

...And immediately being pulled aside by a pair of white hooves. She would’ve screamed had a hoof not been placed over her mouth. Instead, her muffled yelling was all that could be heard.

“Fluttershy, it’s okay,” came a familiar voice. “Don’t panic, it’s alright.” Suddenly, Twilight stepped into view, though she seemed to look past her and at something else. “Go ahead and let her go, officer.”

The grip was released, and Fluttershy leapt forward, clinging to Twilight in fear. She turned back towards her assailant to see that it was actually a royal guardspony. Looking around, there were several guardsponies standing outside of doors and windows all over the building. “Twilight’s what’s going on?” she asked in a quaking voice.

‘They’re here to get the alien,” she explained. “Luna saw the ship land, and she visited me last night asking about it.” Fluttershy breathed a heavy sigh of relief, releasing her grip around the magenta mare. “How did last night go? He wasn’t too much trouble for you, was he?”

“Well, he did, sort of, kind of…” Fluttershy trailed off.

“What? What did he do?”

“...He tried to eat Angel, but-”

“He did what?!” she cried, only to be shushed by the guard nearest the door. “Is Angel alright?”

“Oh yes, I stopped him,” Fluttershy assured her. “Apparently, he doesn’t like vegetables.”

“Where is he now, Miss Fluttershy?” the guard then asked her.

“Oh, he went to use the bathroom,” she said, cringing before adding, “I think he might be there a while.”

“Then let’s go,” he said, entering the house with several others. They all went upstairs, and Fluttershy and Twilight went inside to the living room, listening.

“Henchman, is that you?” she heard the doctor call. “I commend you on your speedy delivery. Say, speaking of speedy deliveries, you wouldn’t happen to have snagged a bran muffin, would you? Needless to say, a few decades in space has really corked me up.”

“...That’s disgusting,” Twilight said, cringing.

Upstairs, a door was burst open. “Wait, shit, the feds!” One of the guards said something she couldn’t hear, and the doctor replied with, “Well I’m a little frickin’ occupied at the moment, thank you very- At least let me frickin’ wrap this up, would you? ...No not literally you frickin’ asshat!”

After a few minutes -and two consecutive flushes- the doctor was escorted down the stairs with bindings on his wrists. He shot Fluttershy an icy glare. “Benedict frickin’ Arnold,” he said, before adding, “And I clogged your toilet.”

“Keep it moving,” ordered a guard from behind him.

Doctor Evil looked back at the pony. “Oh shut the hell up, you ignorant swine. ‘Wait, literally?’’”, he said in a tone that mocked the guard. “What are you, frickin’ retarded?” Then, back to Fluttershy. “And where the hell is Mister Bigglesworth?”

As he mentioned the hairless feline, so should he appear from around the corner of the archway that led into the kitchen. The cat was then quickly swooped up by another guardspony, with much protest.

“Hey!” the Doctor yelled. “Be careful for Christ’s sake! Mister Bigglesworth doesn’t like to be man-handled!”

He was then escorted outside -making him hit his head against the top of the doorframe and eliciting a short cry of pain- and Fluttershy frowned, feeling guilty. “...I kinda feel bad about doing this,” she said to Twilight.

“Fluttershy, he tried to eat your pet,” she said. “He’s too dangerous to be left alone.”

“I dunno, Twilight…”

“Look, at least he can’t hurt anypony now,” she said. “We can finally get to the bottom of this.”

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

The evil genius was escorted -nay, paraded- through the complex, with all of his henchman just staring as the lawmen escorted him. Why are they just frickin’ staring at me? he wondered. Why are my henchmen not viciously assaulting my captors in an attempt to save me? Then, it hit him. Hard.

...They’re not my henchmen, he realized. Oh, it appears that I’ve made a grave error. They’re not my henchman… they’re an actual hippy commune! That explains so frickin’ much! All the freaky-deaky names, the happy-go-lucky nature of this entire frickin’ hellhole, the vegetables! Mufasta’s incompetence isn’t the cause of my hallucinations; they probably fed me their hippy drugs! And then they took advantage of my LSD-induced nausea to release me to the feds! I wonder how much they’re receive? Most likely several fortunes, as I am quite the evil super villain. And they’ll probably frickin’ blow it all off on drugs and cloth dye, too. He smirked, having figured it all out. But they didn’t count on one thing; I have spies absolutely everywhere. Certainly someone will come to my assistance.

The parade ended at the base of a large tree. What the hell are we doing here? ...Oh God, they’re not gonna make me do some frickin’ hippy prayer to their tree-god, are they? But then, a door in the side of the tree opened, and they were escorted inside, to reveal a rather lavish interior. Oh my, he thought in wonder, that’s excellent camouflage. Hippy or not, I must congratulate the builder. Perhaps I could convince him to build me an evil lair..?

Inside, there waited two rather large horses -one taller and white, the other shorter and a deep blue- with spectral manes, wings as well as horns, and wore tiaras. These must be the lesbian hippy princesses, he brilliantly deduced. They stood at the far end of the circular room, with large bookshelves nestled into the wall behind them. The officers led him to a small wooden chair in the center of the room, removing the bindings. “We’ll be outside if you need us, ma’am,” said one of them, before they left the room and the door behind them was promptly shut.

The doctor simply stared at the two for the longest time, and they at him, looking over and assessing each other. After a few moments, the white one finally spoke. “Greetings, space-being,” she said warmly.

God damnit, here we frickin’ go…

“My name is Celestia,” she began, “and this is my sister, Luna. We are the rulers of this fair land. What is your name?”

...Oh okay, they’re sisters, not gay lovers… I should hope, at least. You can never frickin’ tell with communes like this. “I go by many names,” he began theatrically. “‘The Harbinger of Death’ is one. ‘Father Crime’ is another; it’s a rather humorous play on ‘Father Time’. Though you may refer to me as I am often called… ‘Doctor Evil.’ Surely you’ve heard of my atrocities in the past.”

Celestia shook her head. “No, I can’t say that I have. Luna?”

“Nay, there be none of such a name in our great library,” she replied.

...Why the hell is she speaking like that? he wondered. And what do they mean that they’ve never heard of me? How could anyone possibly forget all of my evil campaigns? I mean I- ...Oh, that’s right. Commune. They’ve probably been isolated from society for the longest time; they’d hardly have heard of any of my attempts to rule the world.

“So what brings you to our planet, doctor?” Celestia inquired just as warmly as she had prior.

Why is she being so frickin’ friendly? he wondered, eyeing her suspiciously. “Well space was just so frickin’ lovely,” he said sarcastically, “but I eventually decided that I’d come back to Earth. See the sights, smell the frickin’ roses and whatnot.”

“So thou hast been here before?” Luna asked him.

“Mmmyes, indubitably,” he said in an attempt to imitate her ye olde’ dialect.

“I’ve never heard of a creature like you before,” Celestia inserted. “Where do you come from?”

...What? Okay, now shit’s starting to get weird. It’s like they’re treating me like a frickin’ alien now… Unless… He looked down at himself. His features did seem more emaciated than normal, though he could still identify himself as human. Do they honestly think I’m an alien? ...Well I could have a little fun with this, he thought deviously.

“I come from the planet frickin’ Jupiter!” he said dramatically. “There, my people have perfected the art of space travel and hairless cats! We, uh…” He put his hand to his chin, trying to think of something else incredulous and ridiculous.

...Oh, this oughta be good.

“We have also come to invade your planet!” he added.

The two sisters in front of him stopped smiling. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became much darker, and the doctor found it quite unsettling. “Invasion?” Celestia repeated.

“Uh… yes?” he said, suddenly unsure if he had made a good decision. “Yes! We will come by nightfall with a thousand space ships! We will destroy your measly frickin' planet… unless…” He brought his pinky back up to its favorite spot at the corner of his mouth. “...you pay us… One million dollars.”

The princesses shot him serious -almost menacing- glares. “We do not take kindly to invasion threats,” Celestia said coldly. “It doesn’t matter how large of an army you bring; Equestria will defend itself.”

Equestria? Is that what they named this piss-hole? “Feel free to try,” he said nonchalantly. “If you want to risk the lives of millions of people, be my guest.”

“You’ll not shear a single thread from the manes of our fine ponyfolk!” Celestia exclaimed.

“...Ponyfolk? The hell does that mean?” he said out loud. ...Ponyfolk, Equestria… His eyes suddenly grew much wider. Wait, are they actual horses?!

He rubbed his eyes with his fists, attempting to rub the hallucination from his eyes. They were still giant colorful alicorns. His pulse began racing. Okay, so they’re actual horses. And they can talk. Talking horses aren’t supposed to be real… Just then, his jaw fell open, his brain having made the final connection. Unless I landed on another planet. God, frickin’-

“DAMNIT MUSTAFA!” he suddenly shouted, standing up and stomping his feet; he had never felt so furious in his life. “I’LL KILL HIM!”

The two sisters stepped back, scowling at him. “What are you talking about?” Celestia questioned. “Speak!”

The doctor paid them no mind, as he was lost in his own ranting. “Starvation and incineration isn’t enough; I want that Middle-Eastern jackass to frickin’ suffer! I’m going to feed his nuts to sharks! I’m going to break every bone in his legs and put him in an ass-kicking contest! I’m going to-” He then turned towards the two equine aliens, ceasing his rant as he saw the shocked and horrified looks on their faces. “...Okay, perhaps we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” he said calmly, extending a hand towards them. They looked at it blankly, and he brought it back down. Right; no handshake without frickin’ hands. “So, there’s a really frickin’ funny story behind all of this.”

Celestia snarled. “Why should we believe you now?”

“Honestly, I thought I was high,” he replied truthfully. “I thought that I was chasing the purple frickin’ dragon because of doped-up hippies.”

“What dost thou mean by that?” Luna then questioned, clearly confused.

He took a deep breath, the accent flaring his anger. “Okay, what’s with the frickin’ accent?” he finally asked her. “You sound like a retarded Renaissance Fair attendee.”

“Art thou insulting mine tongue?” she questioned, taken aback.

“No, I’m insulting your voice,” he countered. “...No, I’m not insulting anyone!” he quickly corrected. “I’m not frickin’ invading, I’m not doing anything.”

“A likely story,” Luna then said. “One you can tell to our courthouses in Canterlot!”

“...Wait, but I didn’t frickin’ do anything this time!” he cried. “You can’t arrest me for diddly-squat!”

“We don’t know enough about you,” Celestia began, “to tell if you’re a real threat or not. And until then, it’s too dangerous to let you roam freely.”

“That’s frickin’ horseshit,” he said, before quickly adding, “God damnit, I mean bullshit!” in the hopes of not causing offense.

“I’ve heard enough,” Celestia finally said. “Guards!” At her command, several armored guardsponies flooded the room, ambushing him and forcing his arms back into bindings.

“Oh come on!” he shouted. “This is un-frickin’-believable!”

“Wait!” called a familiar voice. Everyone’s attention was directed at the small, yellow pegasus that stood in the doorway.

“Fluttershy?” said the surprised princess.

“Henchman?” said the Doctor, receiving a glare from the princesses. “I meant Fluttershy,” he said to them, grinning sheepishly.

“You can’t arrest him!”

“Fluttershy, please just let the guardsponies do their jobs,” Celestia commanded not-unkindly.

“But you’re arresting an innocent pony,” she stated.

“Uh, not a pony,” the doctor chimed in.

“Since he landed last night,” Fluttershy continued, ignoring him, “he’s done nothing to hurt us. Sure, he’s talked about doing evil things, but he hasn’t done anything.

“Even later,” she continued, “he stayed the night in my own home. He had many opportunities to do evil things, but he chose not to.”

“But he did try to eat your pet,” Twilight chimed in from the doorway.

“And he apologized,” she countered, “and even cleaned up his own mess. If anything, I’m the rude one for not thanking him when I had the chance.” Then, she flew towards the doctor and hugged him. “He may seem evil on the outside, but I think he’s actually just a big softie.”

The entire room was silent for the longest time. Eventually, it was the doctor who spoke. “Okay,” he said, shaking her off of him, “what the hell have you been smoking?”

“Just give him a chance,” she said, deflecting the question. “I’ll prove to you that he’s not only harmless, but actually a kind and gentle soul.”

The doctor had never had a more difficult time suppressing laughter than at that moment. Groaning into his fist, he bit his tongue as hard as he could until the urge to laugh was gone. Good luck with that one, buddy! Suddenly, something flared in the pit of his stomach, and the following groan was in pain. Ow, what the hell was that? he thought. That’s a rather uncomfortable feeling; perhaps indigestion?

Celestia sighed. “If it were anypony else, I would have said no,” she began. “But if anypony has a chance of taming this creature, I suppose it’s you, Fluttershy.”

The doctor looked up at Celestia. “Tame me? Uh hello, I’m not some frickin’ animal, you know.”

“You have a weeks time,” she said, ignoring him. “At the end of those seven days, I’ll decide for myself if he’s safe enough to leave in town with you. But if not, then he comes to Canterlot for interrogation. Is that understood?” Fluttershy nodded in affirmative. “Very well then. Guards, release him.”

The bindings were removed, and the doctor rubbed his wrists. “About frickin’ time,” he muttered.

“Thank you Princess,” she said gratefully. “You won’t regret this!”

“I hope not, Fluttershy,” Celestia replied with great forbearance.

Author's Note

Chapter Four, and the Bigglesworth's out of the bag now! What happens next? Well tune in next week! Same Bat-Time, same Bat-Channel!

We're Off to See the Frickin' Wizard

As she watched the guardsponies clear out of her home, Twilight stood there in shock and confusion. They’re letting him go? she thought to herself. But he’s a menace! I mean, he sounds like one at least. Fluttershy has no idea what she’s getting herself in-

“Twilight, could I have a word with you?”

Jolted from her train of thought, Twilight quickly entered the tree house after the others had vacated, leaving her alone with the royal sisters. “With all due respect Princess,” she began, standing before the regal sisters, “I think this is a really bad idea.”

Celestia frowned. “Quite honestly, I’m not so fond of the idea myself. However, I faith in your friend’s ability.”

“But shouldn’t he be interrogated now?” Twilight offered. “I mean this is first contact, and right off the bat, he’s talking about world domination!”

“That’s why,” Celestia rebutted, “we want you to learn as much as you can about the alien, and I want a letter every night detailing what you’ve learned. If at any time you feel he is too unstable or dangerous, we’ll take him into custody.”

“And besides,” Luna added, “whom doth have a better chance of containing him? Us, or thine Elements?”

She has a point, she mentally ceded. Twilight sighed in reluctance. “Alright, I’ll do it. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Thank you, Twilight,” Celestia told her. “We’re going back to Canterlot now, so I wish you the best of luck.”

The two approached the door -with Celestia currently outside- when Luna turned back and asked, “Also, have thou attained any sleep? Thou hast begun to form bags under thine eyes.”

She nodded. “I received plenty after you left last night,” she replied honestly.

“Do not neglect thyself,” Luna advised. “Be sure to get a good night of sleep, as thou lookest like an old mare.” And on that note, she exited the building, leaving behind a flabbergasted Twilight Sparkle.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

After watching the Princess’s procession fly into the distance for a moment, Fluttershy turned back towards the doctor -who was currently sitting in a bench far too small for him, looking both confused and depressed- and smiled as warmly as she could. “Thank you,” she said.

He looked up at her. “The hell did I do?” he inquired.

“You cleaned up your mess from last night,” she told him. “I appreciate that.”

“Well it’s not as though I had a frickin’ choice,” he countered. “But I appreciate the sentiment, I suppose.”

She trotted over to where he was sitting, and sat down next to him. “You feeling alright?” she then asked, noticing the expression on his face. “You look sad.”

“Well let’s recap, shall we?” he began, standing up and pacing back and forth. “I was forced into a cryogenic sleep for thirty years, resulting in Mister Bigglesworth’s premature baldness, my own impotence, and my misplacement in a world that’s just too frickin’ hunky-dory for me.”

Her smile slowly died as he listed the various reasons for his unhappiness, and by the time he had finished, it had been replaced with a frown of her one.

“Speaking of which,” said the Doctor, “where is Mister Bigglesworth?” Fluttershy shrugged, and the doctor sighed. “Great, now we can add ‘lost cat’ to the list.”

Oh, I feel terrible, thought Fluttershy. I wonder how I can help to cheer him up.

“Way ahead of you!” called the familiar voice from right behind her. Fluttershy jumped forward, squealing in fright before flipping around to see none other than Pinkie Pie herself standing there, with her usual happy-go-lucky attitude and an equally-pink hairless cat on her back.”

Even the doctor had jumped a bit. “How the hell did she do that?” he questioned. “Just popped out of nowhere.”

“Y-You get used to it,” Fluttershy sputtered, before taking a deep breath to calm down.

“And you have Mister Bigglesworth!” he cried, extending his hands. “Come to daddy, Mister Bigglesworth!” The cat quickly climbed down off of the mare’s back, before trotting towards him and climbing up into his arms. The doctor smiled, stroking the feline’s fleshy neck. “Well, that crosses one problem off of my list.”

“I’m Pinkie Pie!” she then exclaimed. “What’s your name?”

“Doctor Evil,” he said, giving her a stare of confusion. “Pinkie Pie?”

“Yeah!” She bounced up and down on her hooves cheerily.

“...Right…” The doctor seemed to ponder something for a moment, before releasing a sigh of cecession. “Well, I suppose I should thank you for returning my cat to me.”

“No problem!” she cheered, showing a big toothy grin.

He took a step backwards, appearing off-put. “...Well if that’s all, then-”

“I’m also here to welcome you to Ponyville!” she said with undiminished volume. “I’m friends with everyone in town, and it’s always fun meeting someone new! Especially if that someone came from space!”

“Well considering the last thirteen minutes and the events that have transpired,” he began, “I feel about as welcome as a hernia.”

“I made this for you!” she said, before retrieving -out of nowhere once more- a small cupcake. Upon closer inspection, Fluttershy saw a small green figure -she noticed that it was holding up two fingers- on a black icing background. The doctor hesitated at first, before tentatively taking the dessert in his free hand -his other carefully caressing his cat- and examining it.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a cupcake, silly!” she said. “Don’t they have those where you come from?”

He sniffed the small pastry, his nose scrunching up. “Made out of what, exactly?”

“Oh, the usual,” Pinkie began. “Eggs, sugar, milk, sugar, flour, sugar, butter, sugar, and sugar!”

Both Fluttershy and the doctor looked towards the small erratic pony, though it was the doctor who spoke. “Gee, is there any frickin’ sugar in this thing?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yeah!” she yelled. “How’d ya know?”

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Lucky guess.” Then, after taking a quick breath, he opened his mouth and took a small bite from the top. A small bit of green frosting clung to his upper lip as his jaw moved to chew. His facial expression was one of intrigue, and he stared off into nothing, as though deep in thought.

When he finally swallowed, Pinkie looked up at him with hope. “So?” she asked. “What do you think?”

He shrugged. “It’s not terrible,” he said, licking his lips. “Though I’ve had better.”

“Awesome!” Pinkie exclaimed, leaping into the air in glee. The action was followed by simultaneous explosions of confetti that didn’t seem to have any point of origin. The doctor took another bite, keeping his eyes glued on the whimsical pony.

“So I think it may be a good time to introduce you to the town,” Fluttershy chimed in. “To let them know that you’re not dangerous.”

The doctor chuckled, looking down at her with a sneer. “Lure them into a false sense of security? My, how sinister of you, hench- ...Fluttershy,” he said, cringing at the end. “Okay, is that really your name? I mean honestly.”

Fluttershy nodded, slightly offended. “What’s wrong with my name?” she inquired.

“...Doesn’t matter,” he said. “What does matter is that this town is made aware of the change in power.” He took a few steps forward with his back to the other ponies, holding his hands on his hips and staring off into the distance. “They’d better frickin’ watch themselves, because this is onedoctor that does make house calls.”

Fluttershy winced, her face contorting into a frown. ...That was terrible, she thought.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

The large office never felt quite so cramped as it did in that instant. So thought Mayor Mare as she sat in her posh felt chair, looking over the odd trio sitting across the desk from her; a pony, an alien, and his hairless cat. She glanced at the clock; seven minutes past noon.

It’s only been twelve hours since he landed, she pondered, but it feels like so much longer. She yawned, having not had adequate sleep. She had been troubled by the political aspects of the first contact most of the night, allowing for only a strained hour of sleep. A momentous occasion, she had thought. Countless generations will read about this in their history books. How I perform in this period of time will determine my legacy as a leader.

Looking back down at the filled-out permit on her desk, she sighed, before pressing a button on her desk -the intercom- and speaking into the microphone. “Sunscribe?” she called in an authoritarian voice. “I’m going to fax this permit to your desk, and I want it filed away.”

“Yes, Miss Mayor,” called a feminine voice.

The Mayor nodded out of habit, before turning her attention to the two in front of her. “It’s done,” she said. “The permits are in order, and the event is scheduled for three days from now. I’ll have the fliers mailed out post-haste.”

Fluttershy smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you so much for this,” she said. “This is exactly what we need to help people understand-”

“However,” she interrupted, glancing back down at her paper, “I cannot allow… ‘sharks with frickin’ lasers attached to their frickin’ heads.’”

“And why the hell not?” the doctor questioned indignantly.

“It would take far too long and be too expensive to move an aquarium here on such short notice,” she began. “Also, having sharks is nonsensical and dangerous. And above all else, I don’t know what you mean by laser.”

“Who doesn’t know what a laser is?!” he cried in outrage.

“Thank you,” Fluttershy interjected, silencing him with a hoof pressed against his mouth, “for the permit, Mayor.”

The Mayor rolled her eyes. “If that is all, then I have other affairs that need tending do,” she said dismissively, before getting out of her chair with the written permit. “Talk to Sunscribe at the front desk, she’ll print out your copies of the permit.”

The timid pegasus and the temperamental alien both stood up -the latter caressing his fleshy feline in both arms- before vacating the room. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to relax. You’re holding up well, she thought to herself, carrying the paper into a back room with a fax machine, photocopier, and other office devices. After feeding the paper into the fax machine and punching in the address, she then vacated the small room to re-enter her office.

“Miss Mayor? Are you busy?”

She had nearly jumped out of her skin, having not expected the voice. Her eyes shot open, her teeth gritted together to form a fear-dominated facial expression, her eyes darted around quickly in an attempt to uncover the source -which happened to be none other than the town’s resident bookkeeper, Twilight Sparkle- and she sighed exasperatedly.

Warn a mare next time! she wanted to shout. But instead, she took two deep, slow breaths and counted to twenty, before taking her usual seat in her chair to face the visitor.

“Oh, sorry for startling you,” Twilight said. “...I seem to be doing that a lot recently.”

“Yes, well no harm done,” the Mayor said in a controlled, calm composure. “No, I’m not busy, though I would’ve appreciated at least a knock on the door.”

“Sorry,” Twilight apologized once more, taking a seat at the desk. “But it’s urgent.”

“Is it?” the Mayor inquired. “Then come on, out with it.”

“You know that Fluttershy is trying to plan a party to introduce the alien to the rest of the townsfolk, right?” she began.

The Mayor nodded. “I just signed the permit,” she told her.

Twilight frowned. “Do you think you could revoke it?”

“Not before the event itself,” she replied truthfully. “It’s already been filed. Why do you not wish for the event to take place?”

“I just think it’d be a better idea to learn a bit more about him first,” she began, “before putting him on display in front of hundreds of ponies.”

“Well according to Fluttershy,” the Mayor rebutted, “that’s exactly the point of the assembly; to better get to know him.” She then added, “You’re worried he may hurt somepony aren’t you,” though it was more of a statement than a question.

Twilight nodded in affirmative. “It’s only been little over twelve hours since he’s landed,” she told her. “We have no idea what he’s capable of doing, although he seems to like bragging about it.”

“Well from what I’ve heard,” the Mayor countered, “about the meeting with the Princesses, he seemed quite powerless.”

“Well, yes,” Twilight ceded, “but-”

“Look,” the Mayor said firmly, cutting off the magenta mare, “I wouldn’t have signed the paper if I had any doubt -any doubt- that you girls could take care of any trouble he may cause.

“I know you’re worried,” she continued, “but I have the utmost faith in your abilities. You’ve saved this town from threats far worse than him.”

“...I suppose you’re right…” Twilight said with much reluctance.

“If it makes you feel better,” she said, “the event isn’t for another three days. That should give you plenty of time to conduct your own interview with him beforehand. And if you happen to learn something important enough, I could find a way to cancel the event.”

Twilight smiled humbly. “Thank you, Mayor, I appreciate it.”

The Mayor smiled proudly. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I have some important things to tend to.”

Twilight nodded, before exiting in the same fashion as the two prior had. Once alone, the Mayor grinned, opening a drawer under her desk. I’ve been waiting all morning for this, the thought to herself, before retrieving a large cucumber and a jar of peanut butter.

Lunch!

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

“So you’re sure it’s not too short notice?” Fluttershy asked the pink pony that bounced up and down from in front of the large gingerbread house. The doctor found it -along with most other buildings in town- to be quite the eyesore, and he found himself staring down at a contented Mister Bigglesworth.

The only frickin’ familiar thing in this whole goddamn place, he thought to himself. ...I mean besides the giant Big Boy statue that is still smack-dab in the center of town. I mean I can see the frickin’ thing from here! He looked over to the left, and above the line of houses was the top of the giant ships’ head, along with his burger carried overhead. What I wouldn’t give for one of those right now, he thought. Just looking at the faux patty was making his stomach growl and his mouth water.

“Not a problem!” Pinkie replied happily. “I can have it all ready to go in two-million eight-hundred thousand three hundred and nine blinks of an eye!”

The statement drew the doctor’s attention from the fake food. “That’s oddly frickin’ specific,” he noted out loud.

Pinkie didn’t reply, instead favoring to disappear into the large building through the front door that presently hung ajar. Whatever that little horse is utilizing for her erratic travel, he thought as he followed Fluttershy inside, I must find out what it is. My henchman could very much benefit from teleportation technology. Hell, I could frickin’ benefit.

The interior felt very reminiscent of a diner -the several booths, the counter on the back wall that was home to several desserts visible through glass panes, and the many bar stools in front of said counter- though the doctor was disappointed to find that the color palette used seemed to have been ripped from a children’s book.

“Welcome to Sugarcube Corner!” Pinkie Pie shouted from behind him.

“Shah!” the doctor cried, instinctively leaping forward and almost running into Fluttershy. The cat flew out of his arms, yowling out loud until hitting the floor with grace. The cat made a bee-line straight up the stairs, disappearing from sight.

Doctor Evil flipped around to stare down the pink pony. “Okay, you need to cut that shit out,” he said seriously.

Pinkie Pie giggled, before bouncing around the two and standing at the countertop, ringing a small brass bell. After a moment. a plump cerulean mare with a large red mane emerged from the open doorway, smiling briefly. The moment her eyes met with the doctor’s, however, the smile had begun to falter, before coming back even stronger. The doctor could tell, however, that at that point it was far from genuine.

“Uh, hello Pinkie,” she then said, avoiding eye contact with him. “Is there something you need?”

“Miss’s Cake,” Pinkie began cheerfully, “meet Mister Evil! Mister Evil, meet Miss’s Cake!”

“Okay, are you frickin’ kidding me with this?” the doctor shouted at Pinkie, annoyed and upset. “What the hell is so goddamn difficult about saying Doctor? I mean throw me a frickin’ bone here!” Suddenly, the blue mare cleared her throat, and he turned back towards her. “Yeah, frickin’ howdy-do and all that.”

The mare cocked her head to the side. “How… charming,” she deadpanned.

Pinkie Pie giggled, before hopping over and taking a seat at a booth. “Let’s sit here!” she exclaimed. Even when sitting down she couldn’t keep still, constantly shaking and bouncing in place.

Fluttershy was quick to follow -with the doctor trailing behind sluggishly- and the two ponies sat on one side across from the evil genius, who sat opposite them. “Well I don’t know about you two,” he said, “and quite frankly I don’t care, but I’m hungry. So what all does this place serve besides desserts?”

Pinkie nodded erratically. “Yeah!”

The doctor eyed her, confused. “Yeah?” What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“Yeah!”

“...Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“They don’t serve anything else,” Fluttershy quickly interjected, before grinning sheepishly.

The doctor sighed. “Well then what the hell am I gonna eat, hmm? Because unlike you little weirdo’s,” he said, pointing to the two of them, “I need actual food. Not cake, not any hippy gerbil feed; food.”

Fluttershy appeared uncomfortable all of a sudden. “...You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” he said indignantly. “Oh, but let me guess; no one in this town eats meat, right?” After receiving two uncomfortable expressions, he sighed. “Frickin’ peachy.”

He slouched forward, holding his head in his hands and sighing deeply. This place is hell, he thought somberly. Absolute hell. No evil organizations, to decent food; Suddenly prison doesn’t sound too unappealing.

“Well, there is one…” Fluttershy said.

He lifted his head out of his hands and stared directly at her. “Yes?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Pinkie exclaimed, though with noticeably less vigor. “He could probably help him out!”

“Who?” the doctor said, surprised by his own anxiousness. “Stop being so frickin’ ambiguous for Christ’s sake and tell me!”

“He’s a gryphon that lives just outside the Everfree,” Fluttershy explained. “Actually not too far from my home. He-”

“Whoa,” the doctor interrupted, “let’s back that up; a gryphon?” ...They’re making that up.

Fluttershy nodded. “He regularly hunts in the Everfree. He almost never comes into town unless he needs something.”

“Well then what the hell are we waiting for?” the doctor said, sliding himself down the booth to stand up. “All I’ve eaten in the past thirty years and one day is a piece of carrot and a cupcake.” After receiving two more strange stares, he sat back down with a groan. “Of course there’s a catch,” he muttered. “Always a frickin’ catch.”

“It’s just that, well…” Fluttershy began, before trailing off.

“He’s really weird!” Pinkie exclaimed.

“...Yeah…” Fluttershy said quietly.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Weird how..?” he inquired.

“He’s… eccentric,” Fluttershy stated hesitantly.

“Oh, and I’m not?” he countered, raising his eyebrows and wearing an expression that a father might use if he had caught a child in a lie.

“He also reallylikes food!” Pinkie added. “Like, really really likes food!”

He rolled his eyes once more. “Gee, so do I!” he said with heavy condescension. “Now can we please get the hell out of here? The longer I frickin’ sit here, the more I have to breathe in the diabetes.”

Pinkie shrugged. “Sure! Let’s go!”

Just then, there came a series of thuds and banging noises from the stairs, attracting the attention of everyone at the booth. What they saw was a small alligator fall down the flight of steps and onto its stomach. Doctor Evil quickly noticed that its eyes were not only very large, but they were a vibrant shade of purple.

Those eyes are creeping me the hell out, he thought to himself.

Shortly after its landing, Mister Bigglesworth came down the steps as well -though favoring to walk- and leaned his head down to smell the reptile.

“Hiya Gummy!” called Pinkie Pie, who waved at the two animals.

The doctor was dumbfounded. “...Is that an alligator?”

“He sure is!” Pinkie exclaimed, sliding out of the booth and hopping over towards the animals. “His name’s Gummy!”

The doctor raised an eyebrow, deep in thought. ...Perhaps Gummy might be a way for me to terrorize the town? Certainly, a vicious alligator roaming loose could wreak great havoc.

It was at that point that the gator leapt upwards -Holy shit, that thing’s got strong legs, thought the doctor- and clamped his jaw down onto Pinkie’s extended hoof. The doctor winced, grinning madly as the attacking animal caused Pinkie Pie… to giggle uncontrollably.

The doctor furrowed his brow. “What the hell’s so funny?” he questioned. “Aren’t you in excruciating pain right now?”

“Of course not!” she replied. “Gummy doesn’t have any teeth, silly!”

Upon closer inspection, Doctor Evil saw that there were indeed no teeth in the mouth of the amphibian. He sighed in disappointment. Well that blows that plan out of the water.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

They had been walking for about an hour, when finally they came across a small, wooden shack built against the trunk of a rather large tree -the genus of which the doctor couldn’t identify, though it appeared to be a form of jungle plant- that stood a good fifteen feet high. It had paneless windows cut into the front, along with a door created from several unevenly-cut planks of wood. A stone chimney on the completely-flat roof emitted big puffs of white smoke.

At least it’s a change in frickin’ scenery, the doctor thought optimistically, walking behind the others as they approached the small shack. It reminds me of our family vacation in the summer of forty-two. Suddenly, a foreign odor entered his nostrils, filling his head full of memories and making his mouth water.

Meat, he thought, grinning.

The two ponies in front of him, however, covered their noses and mouths in disgust. “Blech!” was the noise that Pinkie Pie made, retrieving out of a box -that appeared out of nowhere- a military-grade gas mask, before quickly putting it on. Normally, the doctor would have stared down the tiny horse in an attempt to uncover the explanation for such an event, but now, his mind was filled with two things; wild nostalgia, and ravenous hunger.

The trio stood in front of the small cabin, before Fluttershy lightly knocked on the door twice. At first, there was no answer, but after a moment, he could hear rhythmic thudding approach the door.

The one who opened the door was a massive, five-foot-tall obese gryphon with a large distended gut, brown greasy feathers -save for those that made up his head, which were white and equally greasy- an age-yellowed beak, a tail that swished behind him sluggishly and four large, filthy claws. His fat almost completely obscured his rear claws from view, and he seemed to be leaning on the open door, rather than holding it open. The doctor dry-heaved.

“Oi!” he shouted in a thick Northern Sea accent. “What the hell do yew want?”

Well isn’t he just a ray of frickin’ sunshine, he thought to himself pessimistically. Or perhaps it’s just the suns’ rays bouncing off of his grease-covered face.

Fluttershy cowered before the gryphon -that completely dwarfed her in size, as he stood almost as tall as the doctor himself- and gulped loudly. “I-I uh, well, I-”

“‘Ey, ah ain’t got all day, lass!” he said, interrupting her rudely. “Ah got a chicken that needs t’ be tended to, so-”

“If I may ask,” the doctor chimed in, “how are you preparing it?”

The gryphon grinned, licking his lips. “Ah’m gonna fry the crap out of it! ...Wait, who the hell are you?”

Well, fried food is better than hippy food, he thought in consolation. “Today,” he began, “I am a connoisseur of fine foods. And I was told by my good… aquaintances-” he placed a hand on either pony’s head, “-that you were the one to seek out.”

The gryphon raised a claw up to scratch at the back of his head, raising his bushy eyebrows in confusion. “...Are you askin’ me for mah lunch?” he finally asked.

“On the contrary,” he began, “I’d like to commission a meal from you. My entourage is prepared to pay whatever price you set forth.”

Fluttershy turned to look up at him. “Actually, we never said-”

Suddenly, the gryphon seemed to transform into a completely new person -person… right… thought the doctor- and donned a big, dumb grin. “Well if you’re not like these lil’ morsels,” he said, nodding towards the two ponies that stood between the two non-equines, “Ah’ll make you a meal that’ll knock that fancy accent right out your throat! No one in this town appreciates good cooking.”

“No frickin’ kidding,” he said. Finally someone who gets it. “So may I come in?”

“Sure, sure!” The gryphon let go of the door, before waddling backwards and out of the way for the doctor. With each step that he took, the floorboards practically screamed under his weight.

Nodding to the gryphon, Doctor Evil nudged past the two ponies and entered the domicile, before looking back at them and saying, “I’ll be back… whenever the hell I feel like it.” He then shut the door on the confused and off-put mares, before turning back towards the gryphon and smiling. “What was your name again?” he asked.

“Mah name’s Talon, but mah friends call me Chubsy!” he replied, still grinning and gripping his feather-cloaked fat rolls with his claws. “And yours?”

“Doctor Evil,” he replied. ...Well, it’s better than frickin’ Fluttershy. “Well, Chubsy,” the doctor began, “as they say in Bruges; it’s time to eviscerate and devour a dead animal.”

Author's Note

I am SO SORRY for the delay, but for a while I didn't have internet. Late is better than never, right?

...Also, he WASN'T ORIGINALLY GONNA BE A FAT BASTARD. HE WASN'T. But then two things happened; the situation practically begged for it, and so did YOU. I swear, almost EVERYONE who made a request wanted Fat Bastard, and to this day it perplexes me.

Frickin' Child's Play

Twilight paced back and forth anxiously, never going more than thirty seconds before glancing up at the clock mounted on the wall above one of the cottage windows. Six-eighteen was the current time; only confirmed by the darkening sky and the falling sun outside. The sun’s rays had long-since stopped shining through the window, and a series of candles and wall sconces were lit all over to illuminate the interior.

“I’m sure he’s just running late,” Fluttershy said, her own voice sounding both guilty and unconfident.

The words could not calm the magenta mare as she continued her pacing to and fro. She checked the clock once more; six-nineteen. She groaned.

“You shouldn’t have left him alone like that!” Twilight suddenly blew up, unable to contain her anxiety. Fluttershy flinched, and Twilight’s scowl turned to a simple frown. “I’m sorry Fluttershy,” she apologized calmly, “I’m just worried is all. For all we know, he could be out there hurting somepony!”

“Or he could be in trouble somewhere,” Fluttershy added. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Fluttershy rushed forward to open it. Upon opening, she cocked her head to the side. “Applejack?” said Fluttershy. “What brings you all the way out here?”

“Who do ya think?” she counter-questioned as she walked inside. She did not look the least bit amused.

Twilight took a deep breath, calming herself down. “So you know where he is?” she asked.

Applejack nodded. “He’s back at the barn; done passed out on our couch, so I’m figurin’ he’s gonna stay there fer the night. If’n that’s fine with you, that is,” she said, directing the statement to Fluttershy.

“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Fluttershy said, smiling. “I’m just glad he’s not hurt.”

“But what is he doing at your orchard?” Twilight then inquired.

“I haven’t the slightest,” she admitted. “He just done showed up at our doorstep, said somethin’ ‘bout finishin’ off lunch, an’ we let him in. I guess he was tired, ‘cause he went straight for the sofa an’ fell asleep.”

“Well at least he’s safe,” Fluttershy said.

“But why was he so tired?” Applejack asked the two.

“His sleep cycle is probably thrown off from being frozen,” Twilight explained, before adding, “If he was frozen, I mean.”

Fluttershy frowned at her. “You still don’t trust him?”

“How can you trust him?” Twilight inquired. “All the threats, him trying to eat Angel; I don’t get it!”

“I agree with Twilight,” Applejack chimed in. “Why do ya trust him so much?”

“Isn’t it better to give him the benefit of the doubt?” Fluttershy retorted.

“And we would have,” Twilight began, “if he hadn’t threatened to incinerate somepony not even five minutes after landing!”

Fluttershy shrugged. “I think he might just be acting tough because inside, he’s actually scared.”

Twilight sighed once more, though this time in exasperation. “I really hope you’re right, Fluttershy. But still, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to leave him there alone.”

“Not a problem,” Applejack said with a proud smile. “Big Macintosh’s still there, so if he tries anythin’, he ain’t gonna get far.”

All of a sudden, the door burst open, startling everyone inside -Fluttershy especially, who dove for cover behind Applejack- and Rarity stood there, panting heavily.

“Rarity?” the group all said in unison. Fluttershy slowly stepped out from behind Applejack, a sheepish grin having taken residence on her face.

“Where is-” she grunted, before clearing her throat loudly -and obnoxiously, so thought Twilight- and taking a deep breath, regaining her composure. “Where is he?” she asked, still panting but under control.

“At our farm,” Applejack replied. “Why? What’s got y’all up in a tissy?”

“What’s got me up in a tissy,” Rarity began, “is that I have only tonight and two more days to prepare an outfit for the star of the show on Wednesday, and I don’t even have his measurements! How am I supposed to design a snazzy suit or a gentlecoltly jacket without his measurements?!” Her panting had become hyperventilating, and her pupils shrank to half their size.

“Rarity, calm down!” Twilight half-shouted, walking over and patting her friend on the back. “We can go get him right now, and you can get his measurements, and everything will be fine. Okay?”

A moment more of panic had passed before Rarity had finally calmed down. “Y-Yes, let’s do that…” she said faintly, having nearly passed out from her own accelerated breathing.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

The conference hall was a grand chamber. The bottom ten feet of each wall was brushed and polished aluminum, whereas the rest of the walls were made of bare earth left over after blasting out the chamber, tapering off to a point a good fifty feet above the long and moderne conference table that dominated the center of the room. A series of black, luxurious chairs lined the table, and at its head was the great, angular leather chair that signified power and dominance amongst the other chairs. The doctor didn’t pay attention to the eloquent design of the room, however, as he was too busy fiddling with the latch on his suitcase, which rested on the table.

“I’ve got you, Doctor Evil!” called an all-too-familiar, british accent from behind him. The evil genius slowly rose his hands behind his head. ...Shit.

“Well done, Mister Powers,” he began, slowly turning around, “You know, we’re not so different, you and I…” He saw that Austin Powers held a submachine gun in his hand, and had pointed it directly at him. Wearing the usual attire of a sixties swinger -a flashy purple felt suit, big, horrid glasses and suede shoes- he stood ready for a fight.

“What are you goin’ on about?” Powers questioned.

“It’s true; you’re British, and I’m Belgian,” he began. “You’ve got a full head of hair, and mine is slightly receding. You’re thin, and I’m about forty pounds overweight.” It frickin feels like fifty, he thought.

“And?” the international man of mystery questioned impatiently.

“Okay, we are different,” he ceded, “and I’m not making a very good point. However,” he continued, “isn’t it ironic, Mister Powers, that the very thing you stand for -swinging, free love, parties, distrust of authority- are all now, considered in the nineties, to be… Evil? Perhaps we have more in common than you care to admit.”

“...What’re you saying?” Austin inquired curiously.

“I’m saying,” he continued, “that perhaps both of our desires could be fulfilled simultaneously; your love of freedom, and my love of power. If we were to become allies…”

Austin shook his head. “You’re not gonna trick me!”

“I’m not trying to trick you,” the Doctor said, slowly extending a hand out towards the british spy. “What do you say?”

After a moment, Austin Powers slowly approached the doctor, weapon still in hand. When he came close enough, his hand came up to meet his, and they shared a firm handshake.

“Sounds groovy,” he said, grinning and revealing his horrible teeth.

“I know it does,” he said, smiling fiendishly. Then, he brought his other hand around -which secretly held a cartoonish croquet mallet- and swung it down and onto Austin’s head. Austin grunted with the blow -which resonated in a light crack! around the cavernous room- before collapsing to the floor, completely unconscious.

“Suck on that!” the doctor shouted. “You cockney prick!” He raised the hammer back up over his head, gripping it with two hands, when something nudged his shoulder. He looked over, but saw nothing. He prepared himself to deliver the final blow once more, but right before he was going to swing, he felt the nudge once more; harder this time.

“Uh, Mister?” came a voice.

Great, now I’m hearing things, he thought to himself. Finally, he decided enough was enough, and he swung the mallet hard and down onto the cupcake, which splattered green and black frosting all over his clothes.

“What the hell?” he thought out loud, looking around to try and find the missing spy. He escaped! “...God damnit!” he shouted, throwing the hammer to the ground and stomping his feet.

...Wait, that frosting looks awfully familiar, he thought, getting a finger-full off of his pant leg before tasting it for himself. ...Holy shit that’s sweet. Seriously, how does no one in this frickin’ town have diabetes yet?

His eyes widened. “Wait, what town am I talking about?” He looked around, seeing all of the colorful buildings -and horses- that surrounded him. “No, no! That was the dream!” Something thudded heavily behind him. Slowly, he turned his head, causing his jaw to drop as he beheld the great behemoth. “You!”

The giant in red suspenders stood hundreds of stories tall, his face peering down at him; his hideous, twisted face fixed into a sinister grin. In his hand was a massive sandwich, which he rose high above his head. The doctor turned around and ran down the line of monotonous and never-changing houses in an attempt to escape, but he moved as slow as molasses. He looked up at the Big Boy, and the burger that hurtled straight toward him. He squeezed his eyes shut and screamed.

“Mister!”

“BWAH!” shouted the doctor, sitting upright on the sofa and raising his arms in front of his face. When nothing happened, he slowly moved his arms back down to his lap, examining the room that he was in.

It was a simple room -a living room or den, he did not know- with green-painted wooden plank walls, embroidered at the bottom with a dark oak trim, giving the room a country feel to it. The sofa had been pressed against a wall opposite a door and window, which overlooked what appeared to be a large front yard common for farmhouses. The walls were covered with picture frames, containing both color and monochromatic photos of various ponies. The sofa itself felt like worn nylon underneath him, and was colored a dull brown color. There were a couple wooden chairs sitting about, and there was an open archway next to the couch that he couldn’t quite see into. Looking down, it appeared that he had fallen asleep sitting on the sofa -his aching neck and back could testify to this- and he yawned heavily.

“Are y’all alright?” asked the female voice once more.

He looked around the room, though there was no one around. He scratched the back of his head idly. “Where the hell are you?” he groggily asked the unknown voice -which the doctor could now tell probably belonged to a child.

“Down here,” she said. He lowered his gaze, and was slightly startled by the tiny yellow horse that looked up at him with massive dinner plate sized eyes and wore a big red bow.

“Who are you?” he questioned, rubbing his eyes with a hand. “Also, why the hell did you wake me up?”

“You were gigglin’ a lil’,” she began, “so ah came to check on ya. When I got here, ya looked like you were havin’ a nightmare.”

He sighed heavily. “Still having one,” he said, before gripping his head with his hands and quickly twisting his head to the side, resulting in a series of loud pop! sounds emanating from his neck.

The small filly took a step back. “What did y’all just do to yer neck?” she inquired, her face changing from one of disgust, to one of intrigue.

“Cracking my joints,” he said, before twisting his head the other way to release several more cracking noises. Immediately, he felt his tension ebbing away. “The hell does it look like?”

“Why would ya go an’ do that?” she asked, barely tilting her head from side to side.

“It’s probably twenty percent stress release, and eighty percent habitual,” he replied honestly, before locking his hands together and subsequently releasing the tension in all of his fingers.

“Do ya think you could teach me to do that?” she asked, suddenly eager.

He raised an eyebrow. “And why would I want to do that?” he asked.

“Because maybe that’s mah special talent!” she exclaimed. “An’ then I could get mah cutiemark for it!”

...I have never hated a word so passionately, he thought, as I do that word. “What is a cu- uh… What the hell is that?” he asked, unwilling to say the aforementioned word out loud so long as he could help it.

“It’s somethin’ ya get on yer flank,” she said, turning so that the side of her body was in plain view. “It tells ya what yer really good at, an’ it stays with ya forever!”

“...So once it appears, that’s that?” he inquired. “You’re stuck with that skill for life?”

“Yeah!”

...How very Stalin of them, he thought to himself, before something occurred to him. “Oh, is that why everyone around here has that frickin’ ass tattoo? I thought it was just some strange rite of passage malarkey.”

“But will ya teach me?” she pressed, looking up at him with puppydog eyes.

She thinks that my stone heart will far for that? he thought to himself proudly. However, after a few moments of staring, the doctor became uncomfortable. “Knock that off,” he said curtly.

The filly then pouted a lip. The doctor cringed.

God damnit.

“Well it’s not like it’s this overly-complicated thing,” he said loudly, raising his arms up for a moment. “You literally just grab your head and twist! Easy-frickin’-peezy!”

“What, like this?” she asked, standing up on wobbling hindlegs and using her front legs to grab the sides of her head. She gave one, swift twist, and her neck cracked in several places… and she fell forward onto the ground, unmoving.

His eyes opened wider. ...Uh-oh. “...Hey, you alright?” he received no response. "You want me to incinerate your ass? Then knock off the frickin' possum play!"

Still, she would not move. “Oh shit,” he said quietly, standing up with his hands on his hips. “Shit, shit shit shit. What have I done? What are they gonna do to me when they find out? ...I need to hide the body.”

He approached the corpse, only to have the small filly snap her head up and yell “Boo!” causing him to not only leap upwards in surprise, but also fall backwards on his bum.

“Frickin’ hell!” he shouted, slowly standing back up.

“Did I fool ya?” the filly asked, leaping back and forth in excitement. “Did I really fool ya?”

He rubbed his rear tentatively, wincing as his hands connected with his bruised bottom. “Yeah, you got me,” he ceded, before adding, “you little bastard.”

“Mah name’s Applebloom!” she then said. “What’s yer name?”

“Doctor Evil,” he said, slightly irritated about having to repeat his own name every other hour.

“Nice t’ meet ya!”

“Likewise,” he said. ...Wait, why the hell did I say that? It was far to polite than it should have been. He sighed. It’s this place, he pondered, and its lack of any sinister overtones. Without something evil to do, I’m slowly being assimilated. I need something horrible to entertain me. Looking down at Applebloom, he suddenly had an idea. Oh, that could work.

“You know,” he began, “you've got the other side of your neck to pop. So... get cracking.” A bubbly chuckle escaped him, and he held a fist over his mouth to suppress it. Clever one, you maniacal fiend.

“Oh yeah!” she said, leaping her front half up to stand on her hooves.

“Now before you do that,” he quickly said, “...why don’t you go pull your little prank on someone else?”

“Like mah brother!” she yelled. “Hey, yer pretty smart, mister.”

“It’s Doctor,” he said. “And I know how smart I am." Like I need some little tyke to measure my brilliance, he thought arrogantly. "Now, right before you prank him, I want you to say…” he leaned down, and whispered a single sentence in her ear. She giggled -almost diabolically- before running off through the archway and disappearing. The doctor then sat back in the sofa -his arms behind his head in a relaxed pose- and waited.

“Hey big brother!” he heard her say. “Guess what?”

“What?” he heard a deep voice say.

“A horse is a horse, of course of course!” He could hear her neck crackling, a light thud, and soon after that an even heavier thud that rocked several of the pictures hanging on the walls.

“APPLEBLOOM!” the deep voice shouted loudly. “Applebloom, what?! What did y’all just do?! Speak to me!”

Doctor tried his very best to not fall into a fit of laughter, giggling into his fist like a fiend. That was frickin’ beautiful, he thought to himself as tears welled up in his eyes.

“It’s okay, big brother!” he heard Applebloom shout. “Why’re ya cryin’ like that?”

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Hunching forward, he let forth a powerful, bellowing laughter that forced the air from his lungs in a matter of seconds, reducing his chuckling to wheezing.

Suddenly, he could hear heavy stomping coming down the hall. He stopped laughing.

Shit.

A massive red clydesdale stomped into the room and shot him a glare that stood for a million and one profanities. “Don’t teach her any more tricks,” he said through gritted teeth, before stomping back out of the room. The doctor took a deep breath, exhaling as Applebloom entered the room.

“You shoulda seen the look on his face!” she said, falling onto her back laughing. “It was priceless!”

“Yes, well I think that’s enough for one day,” he said, eyeing the archway. Oh, but what fun that was, he thought to himself, looking down at the young filly. Pitting a small child against her family; It does the heart good. After a moment, he said, “You know, I’ve always wanted a son.”

Applebloom gave him a confused stare. “But I’m a girl,” she replied.

He shot her a similar look. What the hell is she talking abo- Oh. Oh! The doctor cackled freely for a moment. “What, you thought I was in some way talking about you?”

“Well, yeah,” she replied, cocking her head to the side. “Otherwise it’d be kinda strange for you t’ say that.”

The doctor looked her over once more. “Hmm… Perhaps you’d be better suited as my... apprentice?” A cohort in crime; every supervillain needs one, he thought.

Applebloom’s pupils seemed to sparkle, and a big grin stretched across her face from ear to ear. “Gee, do ya mean it?!” she asked with glee.

“I shall teach you all that I know about being evil,” he said, “and you will be molded into my own likeness. Only smaller. A smaller me… No, that doesn’t quite roll off the tongue, now does it? Tell me, child; can you think of any synonyms for ‘small’ that would be placed in front of the word ‘me’ to help that phrase sound better?”

“Like Mini-Me?” she offered without delay.

“What? Of course not,” he said, refuting her statement. “That sounds terrible. I was thinking… Tiny-Me… Yes, that sounds quite sinister indeed, does it not?” He looked down at her for confirmation. Oh how do I come up with these things? he pondered proudly.

She shrugged. “If you say so, Mister.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, listen,” he said exasperatedly, crouching down to her level, “there’s going to be a few rules if I’m going to take you under my wing. Rule one; it’s Doctor Evil. Not Mister Evil, not Sir Evil, and not Señor Evil. Got that?” She nodded profusely, and he grinned sinisterly. “Good. I have a feeling that this is the beginning… of a beautiful internship.”

Author's Note

Ten imaginary dollars who can name the obscure television reference.

The Emperor's New Frickin' Clothes

The sun hovered close to -though still a fair distance away from- the horizon, painting the sky on one side in a golden hue and leaving the other side to the rising moon, and the flood of tiny lights that seemed to materialize alongside it. Whenever she would glance upwards, Twilight would feel a pang of regret for missing the meteor shower. In a way, she would rationalize, it was worth it, because we made first contact instead. But at the same time… Memories of the doctor were still freshly engraved into her mind, and not a single one of them was good.

But she wouldn’t have to be left to her own thoughts for much longer, as the group of ponies -consisting of Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity and herself- found themselves at the entrance to Applejack’s farmhouse. Looking off to her right, the sun was completely obstructed by the rows upon rows of apple trees, with only small flecks of light passing through gaps in the leaves and casting their radiance all over the ground behind them. She would’ve found the opportunity to relax, had she not heard screaming from inside.

“Aha!” called an unbearably-familiar voice from inside. “I frickin’ got you now!”

“No, don’t do that!” called the filly from inside. “You can’t!”

“That’s mah sister!” shouted Applejack, who had donned a look of both horror and rage. Not even bothering to use the doorknob, Applejack spun herself around and delivered a swift kick to the door dead-center, emitting the sound of splitting wood as the door was kicked in half and off of its hinges.

Inside, both the doctor -who was sitting on the floor crosslegged- and Applebloom -who laid on her stomach opposite him- reeled back to avoid the oak fragments that were once the door, surprised, and in between them, a small tower of wooden blocks collapsed, with the doctor still holding a single block. Applebloom looked back at the fallen tower, and a smug grin crawled across her face. “I win!” she exclaimed.

“I call bullshit!” the doctor exclaimed, staring back at the group of ponies that now stood just inside. “What the hell’s the matter with you people?!”

“What were ya doin’ t’ mah sister?” Applejack interrogated angrily.

“I was kicking her ass in a game of Jenga!” he shouted back, “What the hell did you think we were doing?”

“That’s what I wanted t’ find out!” Applejack’s temper slowly fell, though she was still quite upset.

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Well enjoy the shelter and security that comes with having a frickin’ door. Oh wait, never mind.” He balled his hand into a fist and began chuckling into it. Twilight then looked over and saw Applebloom doing the same thing with her hoof.

“It’s not nice to mimic other ponies, Applebloom,” Twilight reprimanded.

“But I’m not mimickin’!” she countered, lowering her hoof back to the floor. “Doctor Evil’s lettin’ me be his apprentice, so I can get a cutiemark in bein’ a supervillain!”

“Uh, beg pardon?” Applejack said, her expression one of disdain and confusion.

“What was that, Tiny-Me?” then said the doctor, who leaned forward onto his hands and pushed himself up to his feet.

“Hmm?” Applebloom raised an eyebrow, before her eyes widened. “Oh yeah! ‘Rule number two; don’t call it a cutiemark because supervillains don’t say that.’”

“Excellent job, apprentice.”

“Oh no it ain’t!” Applejack cut in, standing between the two. “I’m sorry, but I ain’t gonna let ‘im brainwash you into bein’ evil. You ain’t bein’ his apprentice.”

“Aw, why not?” Applebloom questioned, a big frown and a pair of big puppydog eyes.

Applejack returned with an unimpressed expression. “Do y’all really think that ol’ trick’ll work on yer big sister?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Rarity interjected, “but if it’s not too much trouble, I really do need these measurements.”

“Oh yeah,” then said Applejack, before looking back at the doctor. “She’s wantin’ t’ make you a fancy getup fer the party in a few days.”

“Well what’s wrong with my current attire?” the doctor inquired, looking down at his clinical uniform.

“Nothing at all!” Rarity hastily said with a large reassuring -though not very convincing- smile. “It’s just that for such an occasion, one should not refrain from dressing with a bit more… class.”

The doctor gave her an unimpressed stare. “Right… And just how much is this going to cost me?” he then inquired. “Because if you haven’t guessed it by now, my assets -much like myself- were frozen thirty years ago.”

“Oh, there’s no charge!” Rarity exclaimed. “The only compensation I require is the satisfaction of creating a wardrobe for one of such an exotic physique.”

“Well in that case…” Before the doctor finished, he looked down to examine the brick in his hand for a moment, before tossing it over his shoulder. “Daddy’s getting a brand new labcoat.”

-Insert Austin Powers WIpe Here-

I’m beginning to frickin’ regret this.

So thought Doctor Evil as he stepped through the doorway and into the main chamber of what Rarity had called “Carousel Boutique”. Almost immediately, the first thing he noticed was the smell; an overpowering aroma of artificial fragrances. He hit the invisible wall of scent and gagged violently as the potent aerosol invaded his sinuses.

“Are you alright, darling?” inquired a concerned Rarity, who had turned her head back without stopping.

He shook his head, taking another breath before immediately coughing into his fist. “Jesus Christ!” he shouted, covering his face with his hands. “It smells like you spilled rubbing alcohol all over the goddamn place!”

“Do you not like the smell of citrus?” she asked, stopping behind a wide -yet low to the ground- and rounded platform.

“I don’t like frickin’ drowning in it, that’s for certain,” he replied, following Rarity. It was at this time that he had decided to examine the room he was in. It was a large circular room, with a flat wall on the far back that housed a closed pink door. The walls themselves were a very light shade of lavender, with a purple trim along the bottom three inches. There were tall windows circling the entire chamber -save for the one flat wall in the back- and on the ceiling hung a decorative chandelier. All over, there were open boxes containing assorted fabrics of a myriad of hues and mannequins -Or frickin’ “pony-quins”, he thought- adorned with ornate and exotic gowns and dresses. He stopped on the other side of the podium, keeping one hand over his mouth and nose, and the other on his hip. “So what now?”

“If you could be a dear and step up here,” she said, patting the top of the platform, “then I could get your measurements.”

“Alright,” he said, stepping up and onto the platform. “Now what?” he then asked her.

“Now I just need you to take off your clothes,” she began, “and I’ll begin measuring for the-”

“Woah, Nelly!” he shouted, raising his hands at chest height. “The least you could do is buy me dinner first!”

Rarity gave him a confused stare. “What are you talking about?”

“I like to be wined and dined first,” he explained, “before we get to canoodling.” ...Wait, what the hell am I saying? “Also, you’re a horse,” he added. “It would never work out between us.”

Rarity was about to say something… when she erupted into a giggling fit, bringing a hoof up to her snout in a futile attempt to prevent the sound from escaping her lips.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Well now what’s with the frickin’ tittering?”

“Y-You thought… I… Pfffff-” Rarity doubled over onto the platform, her giggling turning into a full-blown hysterical laugh. She clutched her gut with her hooves, stomping on the floor with her legs. “I’m sorry!” she spat out between fits of delirium. “I’m so so-HHHAH!” Her laughter then devolved into harsh wheezing as she gasped for breath.

The doctor rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and waiting impatiently for her to finish. “Okay, this is getting a bit excessive,” he stated. “You mind telling me what the hell is so goddamned funny now?”

Rarity took in a deep breath, before loudly -and obnoxiously, according to the supervillain- clearing her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely, before clearing her throat once more. “I’m terribly sorry about that, deary. I don’t know what came over me. Now, would you mind removing your clothing?”

“Yes I frickin’ would mind!” he exclaimed. “We’ve just been over this for crying out loud!”

“...But then how am I supposed to measure you for the ensemble?” she questioned upsetly. “What’s so terrible about you de-robing?”

“Well for starters I-” He ceased his talking upon having experienced a sudden revelation.

Everyone in this town is nude, he realized. What frickin’ luck.

“...Yes..?” Rarity made a motion with her hoof imploring him to continue.

“Here’s a lesson for you,” he began. “Human one-oh-one; we don’t take our clothes off in front of strangers.”

“Really?” Rarity rubbed her chin with a hoof. “that’s so… odd, if you’ll forgive my saying so.”

“Well odd or not, that’s how the frickin’ cookie crumbles,” he told her. “So I’m not taking my clothes off.”

Rarity sighed. “Very well, I shall measure you with them on. I’ll try to compensate for the additional width of the fabric, but I cannot guarantee a perfect fit.” Rarity turned around, walking towards an opened chest and looking inside. After a moment, she turned back around, and a roll of measuring tape hovered just above her.

“I don’t care about-Bwuuuh..?” He interrupted his own sentence as he saw the floating clothworker’s tool. ...What the hell..? “How are you doing that?” he inquired, pointing towards the floating object.

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Doing what?” she questioned, stopping once more in front of the podium. The roll of measuring tape quickly unraveled, and wrapped itself around the doctor’s thigh, causing him to flinch.

“That,” he said, placing a hand on the measuring tape. “How are you making that float?”

She looked at him with confusion. “With magic, of course. Also, could you please move your hand so that I may see what it reads?” Removing his hand, he placed it back on his hip -along with the other that covered his face.

“Bullshit.”

“I beg your pardon?” She took a step backwards, taken aback by his sudden vulgarity.

“How are you really doing that?” he began. “Ultra-thin wire manipulation? Hidden tractor beam? ...How the hell do you have frickin’ tractor beams?” And how come I don’t?

“I’m afraid that I have no idea as to what you are talking about,” she said, the measuring tape moving up from his thigh to his waist. “What, do you not have magic where you’re from?”

“Of course not,” he replied. “There’s no such thing as magic. Everything can be explained through science.”

“You say that as though magic is somehow unexplainable,” she rebutted, reading the tape for a moment before moving up to your chest.

He rolled his eyes. This oughta be good. “Very well then; regale me with the inner machinations behind the use of what you call magic.”

“Well, it’s fairly simple,” she began, now measuring the doctor’s arm circumference. “You see, magic is an unknown force-”

“Mm-hmm.”

“-that only unicorns can use-”

“Yes, yes.”

“-and that is channeled through-”

“Let me guess; love?” he said condescendingly, raising his hands back up open-palmed and twiddling his fingers.

“...Our horn,” she finished, and the tape wrapped around his cranium. “I apologize, but love makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Is that how it works on your planet?”

“Sure, why the hell not,” he replied, yawning shortly after. “Are we through yet? I’m gonna pass out over here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes of course!” she then exclaimed, removing the measuring tape. “Now, are there any specific details or designs that you’d like me to include for-”

“I don’t frickin’ care,” he said, yawning once more and stepping down from the podium, setting his course for the door. “Go wild with it.”

“Are you sure?” he heard her call from behind him.

Grabbing the doorknob, he looked back and returned with, “Get frickin’ creative or something!” before opening the door and shutting it behind him.

Magic. “Pffft,” was the noise that he made, before he turned east towards the near-obscured sunset. ...Wait, the sun sets in the east here? ...How queer.

As the doctor walked through the street, he crossed several other small ponies of which he’d spare a passing glance, and they would return with stares of intrigue, fear, or kindness -the latter of which unsettled him the most. However, he noticed that most everyone kept their distance from him.

Good, he thought. They are still unsure of me. Now, how do I make them fear me..? ...Most likely by sabotaging the party in three days. But how would I go about doing so? My original plan to feed the citizens to sharks with lasers on their heads is a no-go, thanks to that bumbling politician.

...I need an accomplice, he pondered. Not just an apprentice; someone who can commit insidious acts with me now. A professional criminal; though I’m fairly certain that this town is devoid of any sort of street urchin. Such a shame. Looking to his left, he gazed up at the towering tree-fort that stood at the center of the large space between rows of houses. Something in the corner of his eye, however, stayed his feet, and he turned to observe what had caught his attention.

Climbing up the side of the tree was a creature -a pony, as the doctor had recognized- draped in a dark cloak. It was climbing up to an open window, where a candle flickered dully- the only light emanating from the tree that didn’t come from the first floor.

...Perhaps I spoke too soon, he thought; a wicked grin stretching across his face. Let’s see how this plays out. Looking around, he found a bench that sat up against the side of a house facing the arboreous dwelling, and promptly sat himself down. Now if only I had some frickin’ kettle corn.

He watched as the pony semi-skillfully scaled the tree, with various pieces of bark falling whenever he would take a step. Eventually, the figure made it to the lip of the round window, and not before blowing out the candle did he vault himself up and inside.

Impressive, thought the doctor. And he didn’t even need a grappling hook.

“Hiya Mister!”

He jumped in his seat, startled by the sudden vocal intrusion. Quickly turning his head towards the source of the voice, he saw nothing but an empty street with various street lights flickering in the night breeze.

“Where the hell are you?” the doctor asked out loud, before furrowing his brow. Deja-vu, he thought to himself. ...Wait a minute. He looked down, and saw a smaller horse of a similar size to “Tiny-Me”; though this horse was orange, with a shaggy purple mane. Has the same sized eyes though, he silently noted. Seriously, these horses’ eyes are creeping me the hell out. “Oh… Well what the hell do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

The child cocked her head to the side, confused. “Busy doing what?” she inquired.

Before he could answer, he heard a thud, and upon turning his head, he saw the home invader lying on the ground under the window of which he had found entrance, rubbing his head through his hooded cloak. The doctor took a moment to chuckle freely, but was silenced by a hoof slapping his leg. He scowled down at the filly, only to find that she scowled right back at him.

“...Did you just frickin’ hit me?” he asked, surprised that anyone would be so bold as to assault him.

“Yeah!” she said defiantly. “It’s not nice to laugh at other ponies’ injuries!”

He raised an eyebrow, looking straight into her eyes. ...She’s not afraid? he wondered. ...Interesting.

He looked back up to where the mysterious pony had lain, only to find that the figure had disappeared entirely. He sighed. “Well it looks like I’m not busy anymore,” he said resignedly, before looking back down at the child. “So what the hell did you want again?”

“Applebloom sent me,” he -Or is it she? he wondered. Really, it could go either way- said. “She wants you to meet us at the clubhouse tomorrow morning.”

He simply stared at the small horse for a moment, before finally replying with, “Okay, one; where the hell is the clubhouse? Two; what does she need me there for? And three; she thinks that I’ll just come running along like a dachshund?”

“Applebloom said it’s about being your pro… protege? I think that’s how you say that.”

The doctor placed a pinkie to his mouth giddily. So she still plans on being my apprentice? Even though she must defy her elders in order to do so? ...How delightfully defiant of her. I may make a villain out of her yet. “Very well then,” he said, lowering his pinkie back down. “Have her send a guide to the home of the one called… Fluttershy.” He shuddered. I still hate that name.

The small pony grinned widely at him. “You mean it?”

“Are you questioning my word?” he questioned.

“Of course not!” she quickly assured.

“Good,” he said, cutting her off. “That’s how it should be. Now, at what time should I expect the guide?”

“Oh, around dawn,” said the pony. “Before any of the grown-ups wake up.”

“Makes sense,” he said, before opening his mouth wide to allow the passage of an escaping yawn. He shook his head frantically in an attempt to keep himself from passing out. “Well I need to get some shut-eye.” He stood up off of the bench, before looking down at the orange pony. “Oh, what was your name again?”

“Scootaloo, at your service!” she said proudly.

He placed his face into the palm of his hand, before wiping his hand down over his mouth and rolling his eyes. “...Right…” And with that, he turned around, and headed back towards Fluttershy’s cottage, grinning sinisterly.

And so, my evil organization shall rise again, and stronger than ever! He looked back towards the orange filly, who desperately tried to flap her wings in an attempt to fly. He shrugged.

Well, it’s a start.

Author's Note

You know, I should just probably make Tuesday my upload date, since I NEVER UPDATE ON A FRICKIN' MONDAY.

A Heartfelt Frickin' Apology

Chapter eight; the Art of the Sapphire Soufflé! Spike had only just opened his new favorite cookbook to the page that was marked by a prominent corner fold, and already his mouth had begun to moisten. He squirmed giddily in his bed as images of crystal-embezzled food floated before his eyes. Oh boy!

He had decided to end the day with a bit of light reading on his favorite subject; cooking. The day had been rather uneventful for Spike; he woke up, ate a breakfast consisting of an assortment of topaz and amethyst fragments, and spent the majority of his time maintaining the library while Twilight was out doing…

“Hmph.” He lowered his book so that he stared over at the bedroom door. What is Twilight up to? Probably hanging out with the alien, he concluded with a shrug, resuming his recreational reading. He had never met the alien face-to-face as of yet -during his interrogation within the confines of this very treehouse, Spike had taken refuge in the master bedroom- and quite frankly, he didn’t want to; from what he’s heard so far, he sounds like quite the frightening and temperamental character, and Spike wanted nothing to do with him.

Now, where were we? he thought, before realizing that he had started on a fresh chapter, and therefore simply had to begin from the top. Oh yeah! “The Soufflé in itself is infamous for being one of the most tedious and difficult culinary crafts to make, on account of the fact that the air bubble that expands inside can easily create holes in the dish, and therefore deflate it. One must have great patience when preparing this dish, and must be sure as to not disturb the inflation process.

“However, when you add sapphire gems to the mix-”

It was at this point that Spike heard the front door downstairs open. He yawned, closing the book and setting it next to his bed. That’s probably Twilight, he concluded. He climbed out of his bed, and with a light stretch of his limbs, he made his way across the bedroom and opened the door. “Twilight? Is that you?” he called, before feeling a sudden wave of anxiety. What if she’s with the alien? ...What if Twilight isn’t there at all, and it’s only the alien?!

“Yeah!” Twilight called back from downstairs, setting his mind partially at ease.

“...Is he with you?” he called back after a moment of silence. Oh, look at me; just a big scaredy-cat, he silently berated himself. I’m a dragon! He should be scared of me! ...Right?

“No, Spike,” she called back. “Do you mind coming down here? I need you to write a letter.”

The dragon let free his pent-up breath, feeling his anxiety flow away. “Sure thing!” Spike then shut the door behind him, and hopped down the flight of steps to find Twilight at the bottom, prepping a piece of paper, a quill and a jar of ink for him on a nearby table. He approached the scribe’s accessories, grabbing the quill and dipping it into the inkwell. “Alright, I’m ready,” he said to her. Twilight cleared her throat, before beginning her statement.

“Dear Princess Celestia,” she began, pacing back and forth. “As per your own request, I am sending the first of many letters regarding the extraterrestrial and his endeavours. I hope that after absorbing the information that this letter contains, you will rethink your previous decision to allow him free roam under the supervision of my friend, Fluttershy.”

“My… friend… Flutter… shy,” he vocalized as he finished writing the paragraph. Upon his completion, he nodded to Twilight, imploring her to continue.

“Firstly, we know that the alien exhibits several antisocial and sociopathic tendencies -i.e. threatening death and suffering for seemingly everyone around him, passive-aggressive tendencies, et cetera- and this leads me to believe that back on his own planet, he may not be quite socially adept even with his own species. He had mentioned previously that he was the head of an organization -the practices of which one can only assume are not the least bit legal- and even today, he had attempted to convert one of our younglings -a filly by the name of Applebloom, and sibling to my friend, Applejack- to follow his leadership as an apprentice. What he had intended to teach -or what he had already taught- has yet to be known, but it is believed that that particular incident-”

“So, write down ‘that’ twice?” Spike interjected, raising an eyebrow. Twilight nodded -agitatedly, he noticed- and he continued to write.

“...that that particular incident,” she continued, “is now under control.

“So in conclusion,” she said with finality, “I implore you to reconsider your ruling on his residency and freedom. Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.” She looked back at Spike, ceasing her monotonous pacing and asking him, “Did you get all of that?”

Spike nodded proudly, setting the quill back on the table. Twilight smiled back at him, and after a second of rolling up the parchment, Spike inhaled deeply, and with minimal effort, engulfed the paper with an inferno of green fire. In an instant, the paper had become a simple wisp trail that flowed through the cracks of a nearby window, Canterlot-bound.

“Thank you, Spike,” Twilight said appreciatively, walking towards the steps. “So, how was your day?”

“Oh, the usual,” Spike said, following close behind her as they trailed up the steps. “I cleaned up a bit after he left, took inventory of our collection -there’s a book missing, by the way- and I was just-”

“Wait, what?!” Twilight flipped around, jumping over Spike -who flinched as she flew over top of him- and scanning the shelves frantically. “Are you sure you didn’t just miss one?”

“I checked twice,” Spike said, his heart pounding after his near-trampling experience. “I also looked at the check-out records; no one checked the book out either.”

“Well what book-” Twilight suddenly froze, twisting her head back to look at him with a glazed-over expression of surprise. “Wait, you did a double-check without me reminding you to?” Spike nodded in affirmative, and she smiled warmly. “That’s very responsible of you, Spike.”

Spike couldn’t help but strike a confident pose as his ego was inflated. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he replied nonchalantly, though he fought the urge to giggle with pride.

Twilight suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be upset, and she continued scanning the shelves in a fervor. “What book is missing?”

“A Hundred and One Things in the Forest you Didn’t Know were Edible,” he replied, and she stopped her constant darting around the shelves. Instead, she raced across the room to another shelf, knowing instantly where that book would be stored. “...It’s not there!” she cried, scanning the rest of the shelf in case of misplacement. “You don’t think someone stole it, do you?”

“Oh please,” Spike said, dismissing her worries. “Not while Spike the Dragon is on guard! And besides, who would want to steal a book like that? Why wouldn’t they just check it out for free?”

“I’m not sure, Spike…” Twilight told him. Suddenly, she turned away from the shelves and stared at him with rage-filled eyes. “You don’t think it’s him, do you?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “I think I would’ve noticed if a giant alien tried to steal one of your books.”

“No, I mean you don’t think he converted any other ponies, do you?” she asked him. “Ponyville’s never had a problem with thieves before. But suddenly the Doctor-Frickin’-Evil starts walking around, and I’m missing a book? What if he’s convincing other ponies to commit crimes for him? What if-”

She was silenced when Spike placed his hand on her mouth. “Calm down, Twilight. It’s probably just misplaced. Why would he try and convince somepony to steal a book about eating twigs and pinecones in the first place?”

Twilight gently moved his hand away from her mouth, and she released a fatigued sigh, her eyelids drooping as though they were being pulled down by heavy weights. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. But there are two things I know for certain; one is that the alien cannot stay here for much longer.”

“What’s the other one?” Spike inquired.

Twilight’s eyelids opened wide, only to fall down even further than before. “What now?”

“What’s the other thing you know for certain?” Spike asked again, crossing his arms.

“Oh; tomorrow, we’re turning this tree upside-down until we find that book.” Then, Twilight once more made her way towards the stairs, and Spike followed close behind unhappily.

But I just cleaned this place up!

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

The sky was a deep violet and dotted by a myriad of stars when Doctor Evil made it back to the cottage. Not a single light shown through the windows, and the lack of light had diminished his depth perception to the point where he walked face-first into the door, sending him reeling backwards and gripping his nose.

“Damnit!” he seethed quietly as a dull throbbing pain erupted in his right septum. Is it bleeding? A warm dampness dripping down his front lip elicited a groan of exhaustion and anger. Of course it’s frickin’ bleeding, he thought bitterly. Why the hell wouldn’t it be bleeding? He held his coat arm up to his nose to staunch the torrent of ichor as his hand fumbled for the doorknob. When he finally found it in the darkness, he swung it open, and he took a step inside. His hand felt the wall for a light switch, though when he found none, he held his hand out in front of him as he clumsily made his way into the kitchen.

He took a single step through the doorway when he heard something upstairs. The ceiling creaked as something made their way towards the stairwell. Ignoring the sound, he used the ever-so-faint moonlight from the window to find the sink. Here, he felt for a faucet, and once greeted by the familiar sound of running water splashing against the floor of a clay basin, he brought his hand down under the stream of warming liquid to wash away the blood that even now had begun to dry on his skin. His nose bled freely now, cascading into the sink only to be washed away by the water. The pain had begun to deteriorate, but it still caused him much discomfort. His temper, on the other hand, seemed to only grow worse.

A light flickered to life behind him, and he instinctively took a startled breath… causing him to inhale a fair amount of blood, and sending him into a fit of ferocious coughing. Gah! he thought, the sudden fit of asphyxiation rendering him unable to form coherent thoughts.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you,” came the familiar voice. “I heard you come in, but I thought you were staying at...” Her words trailed off as his coughing turned into gagging. “Are you alright?”

The doctor lurched forward, trying to cough up as much blood as he could from the back of his throat. “I’m frickin’ peachy!” he shouted loudly without breathing through his nose. With the newfound light -most likely from a candle, as shadows danced about- he saw a great blood stain on the sleeve of his right arm, and he groaned -nay, growled- in frustration, kicking the door of the cupboard under the sink. The blow resulted in a resounding bang! that hurt his ears, which only made him angrier. “This was my favorite coat!” he shouted, holding his sleeve under the rushing water in a feeble attempt to diminish the stain. His rage intensified, and yet he did not understand why now of all times his temper decided to flair.

“What’s the matter?” Fluttershy asked, stepping around to his right side. As soon as she beheld the never-ending fountain of blood pouring from the doctor’s nose, she gasped. “You’re hurt! How did this happen?”

“Get me a tissue,” he commanded, not even bothering to look at her. His clean hand grabbed a bottle of what he could only assume was dish soap, and he began dousing his sleeve with it. Upon seeing only the great red splotch that it created, he snapped.

“Oh, don’t worry about your jacket,” Fluttershy said reassuringly. “I think Twilight knows a spell to-”

“Are you deaf?!” he shouted, turning towards the mare with a ferocious scowl and allowing his nose to pour onto the tiled floor. All of his frustration that had built up over the past twenty four hours suddenly burst forth, and he bellowed, “I said get me a goddamn tissue!”

Something happened then that Doctor Evil couldn’t have -though he should have- expected; the mare’s face scrunched up, and a single tear dripped down her cheek. Even in his fit of rage induced by a full twenty-four hours of hell seemed to die down a notch. Before he could even contemplate his own actions, the pony turned around and bolted through the door arch, releasing small gasping noises -sobs, as the doctor had deduced- and dashed up the flight of steps. Upstairs, he heard a door slam.

He stood there, unmoving from his position of facing the wall. Both cascades of blood and water continued to pour; though they were of no concern to the evil genius. Rather, his mind was currently fixated on the events that had unfolded only moments ago, and the possible ramifications of his actions.

...Shit. In my moment of unadulterated fury, I may have just jeopardized my current living arrangements... I need to fix this, he thought, before cupping his hand under his nose. Okay, I need to fix this first; I’m starting to get light-headed.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

Fluttershy buried her face in her pillow, allowing her choked sobs to escape into the soft and plush material. She lay there on her bed, releasing her emotional state in a controlled environment. Her crying came from several sources, with fear and uncertainty playing the largest role. In that instant in the kitchen, Fluttershy had for the first time feared for her life. His seemingly-unprovoked outburst had rattled her very core; she hadn’t experienced such primal fear since her encounter with the dragon atop the unnamed mountain that hovered over Ponyville.

Why did he scream at me? she wondered, her crying having died down -though not completely. Did I do something to upset him? How did he get hurt in the first place? ...Maybe I deserved it. I mean, he did ask for a tissue first, and I just kind of brushed it off. I just wish I knew what made him so upset… in the… first...

She was about to drift off into a restless sleep -as she was both physically and emotionally drained- when suddenly the door was opened without any prior warning. She tensed her body in fear as the doctor blatantly stepped inside, easing only slightly as he took a seat on a stool that sat against the wall. The seat in question was far too small for him -his knees almost reached up to his shoulders- and several fracture lines in the teal coat of paint were evidence that he greatly exceeded its weight capacity.

“We need to talk,” he said after a moment. His voice had lost any previous malice, and Fluttershy quickly realized that he had never spoken this softly in his entire time of being here; completely devoid of aggression, command or dominance. Also, Fluttershy took notice of the fact that the doctor had a wad of toilet paper stuck in his right nostril. “I… Hmm… How do I put this..?” The doctor tapped the tips of his fingers together, deep in thought.

She donned an expression of poorly-hidden glee. Is he going to apologize? I knew there was good in him somewhere!

Doctor Evil quickly took notice of her newfound demeanor. “What the hell are you so happy about? Weren’t you bawling your eyes out just five seconds ago?”

Fluttershy needed no further exchange of words, and in an instant, she had climbed over the foot of the bed and engulfed the extraterrestrial in a massive hug, with her forelegs wrapped around his shoulders.

He was not pleased. “What the- get off!” He wedged his arms in front of his torso and pried you off of him, holding you at bay by your shoulders. “What the hell is with you and frickin’ hugs?”

Fluttershy beamed sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. “Oh, well, I know what you were going to say, and I forgive you.” She lowered her head, and allowed her mane to obscure her face.

The doctor gave her a blank stare. “You forgive me? Why? It was your fault.”

Fluttershy looked back up at him as though he had spoken another language. “Wait, my fault?”

The doctor removed his hands from her shoulders, preferring to place them on his hips, and took on a reprimanding tone to his voice. “You see that clearly I’m wounded, but what do you do? You start talking to me about my frickin’ coat. How the hell was that your first priority?”

Fluttershy was at a loss for words. “I-I uh, well-” she stammered, feeling slightly foolish.

“I will cede to you,” he began once more, “that my coat is quite luxurious; feel how the exterior is made of velvet.” He extended his arm in front of her, staring at her expectantly. “Go on ahead, feel it.”

Slowly, she brought a hoof up to run along the fabric. Oh, that is nice, Fluttershy thought.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” he said after a few seconds, pulling his coat sleeve away. “But when someone -especially me- is bleeding out, then clothes no longer matter, and you do whatever I say. I mean I’m not called Doctor Evil just for shits and giggles.”

Fluttershy didn’t know what to feel at that point; disappointed that he hadn’t apologized like she had hoped? Flabbergasted that he had turned the situation around on her? Overall, however, there was one feeling that she could not shake; shame. Shame that she had not tended to his injury. He was entirely right, and she should have focused more on his wound than the stain that was now a great red smear on his sleeve.

“...You’re right,” she finally gave in, the weight of both exhaustion and regret adding a fatigued edge to her voice. “I should have had my priorities in order, and I apologize.”

“Your apology is accepted,” the doctor said, standing up off of the stool -while using her head as support, to her chagrin- and placing an arm behind his back. “Just make sure that when next an incident should rear its ugly head, you are better prepared for it.”

Fluttershy nodded, before asking, “How is your nose?”

“Still bleeding,” he replied exasperatedly, before heading towards the door. He stopped, however, before turning back towards her and adding, “Oh, and I am going to take an early-morning stroll tomorrow.”

Fluttershy smiled -though her exhaustion made the action a test of her facial endurance- and responded with, “Mind if I join you?”

“Yes I do.” And with that, he shut the door, leaving Fluttershy alone to her thoughts.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

The doctor took his hand off of the doorknob, and released a sigh of relief. Well that takes care of that problem, he thought to himself as he descended the flight of stairs to the living room. So long as she believes she is the cause of my outburst, I doubt she will so readily evict me from her home.

He made it to the bottom floor, only to find an annoyingly-familiar mammal scolding him from the floor. The doctor rolled his eyes. Not this little shit.

“What the hell do you want?” he questioned in a harsh tone, before squeezing his eyes shut for a moment; his eyelids were becoming progressively heavier every minute he spent not trying to go to sleep.

The mute rabbit waved a paw towards the archway leading to the kitchen, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you’d probably get pissed off too if you had to spend a day in Hell,” the doctor countered, shrugging. The rabbit shot him an unimpressed stare. “Well it’s Hell to me,” he replied. “I can’t stand the happy-go-frickin’-lucky attitudes of everyone here. Everyone’s too goddamn nice to each other.”

Much to the doctor’s surprise, the rabbit shrugged, nodding in what he could only imagine was agreement. “See? Even you get it!” he exclaimed. “No one ever holds a frickin’ grudge! I don’t know how many death threats I’ve made in the past twenty-four hours, but there doesn’t seem to be a single goddamn person here who gives a shit!”

Angel shrugged once more, before unexpectedly darting back into the kitchen, disappearing. The doctor -too tired to care- sauntered over to the couch to find that the blanket and pillow still sat folded and stacked neatly on the bed. In only a few seconds, this was no longer the case, as the doctor quickly laid down onto the couch with the pillow under his head, and -not even bothering to take his coat off- covered himself with the blanket. Through the archway, he could see that the kitchen still spilled the flickering light of a candle into the otherwise-dark living room, and he groaned. Goddamnit.

Before he could get up, however, the light was suddenly extinguished. His eyebrows crawled about halfway up his forehead in surprise. What the hell..? After a moment, the sound of scurrying across the floor put his mind at ease; if only slightly. That rabbit can put out a candle? ...Why the hell didn’t I already expect that? If the little bastard can carry on a conversation, then he can probably do something as simple as putting out a candle.

The train of thought led him to another surprising realization; one that forced him to release a sigh of disappointment. I just spent the last three minutes conversing with a rabbit.

Author's Note

Wow. I say a week ago that my new release date is TUESDAY because that's when I usually upload a chapter, even though it was supposed to be MONDAY. So the first week after the release date change, what do I do? I upload it on WEDNESDAY, which is STILL A DAY LATE.

Should I just give myself 8 days per chapter instead of 7? I mean seriously, this is frickin' ridiculous.

The Frickin' Breakfast Club

The infamous criminal mastermind sat atop his mobile throne -a posh, angular chair with black leather accents, and a control panel on the arm that gave him complete kinetic control- staring directly into the camera mounted on a tripod in front of him. He sat in front of an aged mahogany desk adorned with a picture of his parents, and a bright red telephone. Behind the camera, there sat all of his colleagues; Frau Farbissina and Number Two on a red-and-white striped loveseat, and Mustafa, Random Task and Patty O’Brien -who was currently eating a bowl of marshmallow cereal- sat in a mossy green velvet couch. Hanging on the pale-white walls of the circular room were all masterfully-rendered portraits of himself -he didn’t care for the previous decorum- and behind him, he could have beheld through several large windows a massive gated courtyard, where his henchman patrolled in groups. He could hear the rambunctious protesters outside of the fence crying for “justice” and “liberty”. Several gunshots outside quickly silenced the group.

But he would not look outside, as his gaze was focused on the camera in front of him. A henchman silently counted down from five, using his fingers as a visual reference. Doctor Evil took a deep breath; he could smell the sulphur from the barrels of the various weapons that had fired in the last hour… and cinnamon. It brought a grin to his face.

Three. Two. The henchman gestured for him to proceed, and watched eagerly -as did the rest of his evil entourage- to hear what he had to say.

He gave the camera a sly grin. “Greetings, my fellow Americans… Perhaps I shouldn’t say that; after all, I hail from Belgium, and you all hail from the Land of the Free. Or rather, the Land of the…” His pinky was raised up to the corner of his mouth in his trademark pose, “...Not, free?” There were three more gunshots outside.

“As most of you probably know,” he continued, “the former President of the United States was recently… impeached,” he said, with dark emphasis on the final word. “As is the protocol of the New World Empire, I -the Great and Powerful Doctor Evil- will be taking his place. My message of peace and prosperity still extends to each and every one of you. All that I request in return is that you all swear fealty and allegiance to me, and me alone.

“Those that do not agree to my offer will be imprisoned,” he continued. “Those that would break this pact once formed will be executed. Those accused of treason against your new ruler… your punishment will be decided by either me, or one of my closest associates.

“My offer extends to the rest of the world as well,” he said, holding his hands out as if gesturing to a large crowd en masse. “As you have all been made aware of, several hundred nuclear weapons have been embedded deep beneath the Earth’s crust in and around several powerful countries around the world, and should any country choose to deny my generous offer… Well, you all have seen what happened to the Soviets, have you not?” The memory of watching the explosion via high-orbit satellite made him bunch his lips in giddiness, and his pinky rose once more to his mouth.

“In exactly twenty four hours,” he resumed after a moment of reminiscence, “any country that does not submit to my will shall be the target of a hostile military takeover… or destroyed. Oh, and one more thing… To all world leaders; in order to join my New World Empire, you must first pay me a hefty sum equivalent to… One million dollars.

“You have my demands, Planet Earth,” he said in conclusion. “Submit, or be obliterated.”

“And, we’re off!” said the Henchman, who then proceeded to fold up the camera. The doctor fiddled with the controls on his chair, and he maneuvered himself around the desk and towards his standing-and-applauding entourage.

“Bravo, Doctere!” said Frau, pronouncing the final syllable as air. “Zat was und vonderful address.”

“Thank you, Frau,” he said proudly. “You don’t think that one million dollars was too little, do you?”

“Absolutely not,” said a grinning Number Two. “A million dollars was the perfect amount of money to charge.”

“You think so?” the doctor inquired. “I thought I should have sprung for maybe three million, but that didn’t really sound right.”

“No,” Frau interjected. “Von million likes to roll off ze tongue, no?”

“See, that’s what I was thinking too,” the doctor replied. “I was worried that I was making a fool of myself in front of the henchmen.”

“You? A fool? Nonsense!” said a jovial Patty O’Brien with a mouthful of cereal, who then held out his bowl towards him. “Want some of me Lucky Charms?” he asked in an Irish accent.

The doctor looked at him strangely for a moment, before slowly driving his chair towards a now-unsure Patty. He leaned in so that they were only a foot away, before saying, “...How ‘bout no?”

The Irish assassin shrugged. “More for me then.”

The doctor gave him a weird stare for a moment. “...Right…” Then, to Mustafa -who wore his trademarked fez and black sunglasses- he said, “Where is the First Lady presently?”

“She is in the Presidential Bedroom,” he replied, “under observation by my latest invention; robotic sharks with lasers.”

“Are the lasers attached to their heads?” he asked.

“But of course,” Mustafa said with a smirk.

The doctor couldn’t help but squirm in his seat in delight. “That sounds absolutely wonderful, my Crimean friend. Now, I do believe that there is still one loose end that needs… cut.”

“But of course, Doctere,” Frau said. “He is vaiting for you at ze Vashington Monument.”

“Very good, Frau,” replied the Doctor. “Let us be on our way then!”

“Um, Doctor Evil?” called a familiar voice from behind him. “Would you like to take Mister Bigglesworth with you?”

“Hmm… You know what?” said the doctor, who slowly spun his chair around, “I think I would, Fluttershy.”

“Here you go,” said a smiling yellow pegasus, currently flapping her wings so that she hovered directly in front of him. In her arms was a fluffy Mister Bigglesworth, which she quickly set in his lap. The cat purred softly, nuzzling into his evil villain’s coat.

“Thank you, Fluttershy,” said the doctor. “I appreciate and value our friendship.”

Fluttershy beamed back at him, her face breaking out into a fierce blush. “I like our friendship too.”

Then, he opened his arms, gesturing with his fingers for her to come closer. “Here, come give me a hug.” The timid pegasus slowly approached, and the two embraced in a warm and friendly-

“BAAAAAAAH!” The doctor flung his torso upwards -causing the blanket to fall to his waist- and flailed his arms wildly in front of him. Something meowed loudly, and he felt Mister Bigglesworth fly forward and onto the ground next to the couch. His heart beat frantically in his chest, and his bald head was covered in beads of sweat. Eventually, he slowly gained control of his breathing, and looked around the room he was in.

He could barely make out anything in the darkness, but due only to proximity, he could make out the green couch that he currently laid on, and the blue wool blanket that covered his still-clothed figure. Outside, he could still see stars, but a faint orange glow creeped up from above the treeline.

Jesus Christ, what’s with these nightmares? he wondered. Normally, I might say that it was a side effect of the freezing process… but I think that I may need to put more consideration into just what I attribute to my Crimean Tatar engineer’s design… Goddamn, my throat is parched. Stretching his arms and licking his lips, he removed the blanket from his person -allowing it to fall onto the floor- and made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

Sweetie Belle let loose a powerful yawn -though it came out very quietly- and she rubbed her drooping eyes with a hoof. This is way too early for a secret clubhouse meeting, she thought as she approached the cottage directly in front of her.

Sweetie Belle felt a wave of apprehension flood over her mind as she neared the front door. She had yet to behold the creature that was undoubtedly the target of the town’s gossip. She had, however, heard the various stories that were circulating around. Of course, she knew that one or two had to be made up -that he could shoot lasers out of his eyes, or that he wanted to take over the world- but there were also many other stories that may have had some bearing -that he could use mind control, or that he was a horrible cynic.

Whatever that means, she thought idly. Her contemplation of the word cynic was quickly brought to a halt, however, as she stood in front of the main entrance to the cottage; a simple wooden door. She was about to reach up to knock her hoof against the door when she beheld a peculiar red stain about five or so feet up. Though the dim lighting hindered her abilities by a great magnitude, it did not take her long to deduce what the stain was.

Blood? Why is there a big blood stain on Fluttershy’s door? The wave of apprehension became a flood, and suddenly Sweetie Belle felt the sudden urge to turn around and bolt back home. But alas, she had made a promise to her friends to deliver the future Crusader to the clubhouse. And so, she swallowed down the lump of anxiety in her throat, and she raised her hoof to the door.

Without warning, the door opened a fraction of the way, and Sweetie Belle jumped back in fright as a horrifying face leered at her from inside.

“Are you the guide?” he asked in a hushed tone. Once her heart rate had died down, she nodded. “Good.” Slowly, the door opened all the way, and Sweetie Belle could see him in all of his terrifying splendor.

Well that crosses those rumors off the list, she thought with relief, referring to a few particularly-ridiculous rumors about his appearance; one saying he was small and green, and another saying he looked like a gorilla. ...I can kinda see it, she thought as she further examined the anatomical build of the space being.

“Were you about to knock on the door?” he then questioned her. “Are you trying to wake up the whole goddamn house?” Before she could even respond, he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Now, I want you to… take me to your leader.” He brought his pinky up to the corner of his mouth and snickered. Sweetie Belle cringed.

That, was terrible, she thought, turning around and walking back down the trail of which she had travelled, with the doctor following close behind her.

-Insert Austin Powers WIpe Here-

The sun had just begun to peak over the tree line when they had arrived back at what the doctor recognized as the orchard of which he had first encountered his less-than-pestiferous protege. His present guide -a white unicorn of the same size as the others, only with a pink-and-periwinkle mane- had not said a word to him since they had met at the house, much to his relief. A good trait for a henchman, he thought.

The orchard itself was only a half-hour away from the cottage, and already his legs had begun to chafe. God damnit, he mentally complained, scratching at his inner thighs through his pants to relieve the irritation. Next time I freeze myself, I’m packing some frickin’ Aloe Vera.

“Here we are!” she exclaimed, looking back at the doctor. “Official HQ of the Cutiemark Crusaders!” On the last word, her voice cracked horrifically, causing the doctor to cringe.

Jesus Christ, no wonder she didn’t want to say anything, he thought.

The clubhouse itself was nothing impressive; a simple yellow-painted box with a brown shingled roof, full glass windows -a faint light radiated from inside- and an oak door. Okay, perhaps a little impressive, he ceded, having not expected the hideout of juveniles to show such craftsmanship. “And they’re inside?” he asked her.

“Uh huh!” she replied, nodding.

“How many?”

“Just two others,” she informed him. “Scootaloo and Applebloom.”

“Who now?” he inquired, not recognizing the names. ...Oh, wait. “You mean ‘Tiny-Me’?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she said with uncertainty, before turning back towards the clubhouse. At first, the doctor was apprehensive about having to scale the tree to get inside, but what he had failed to notice before was that there existed a patio attached to the front of the domicile, with a ramp that declined down to the ground.

Okay, that’s pretty impressive, he ceded, before following the filly up the ramp. The as-of-yet unnamed pony raised a hoof to the door, knocking in a cryptic pattern that the doctor instantly recognized as the beginning to Camp Town Ladies. Shortly afterwards, the door was opened to reveal a well-lit interior. He saw his apprentice standing there in the doorway, a grin on her face.

“Glad y’all could make it!” she exclaimed, before being shushed by an unseen pony inside; one could only assume it was Scootaloo. Grinning sheepishly, Tiny-Me stepped out of the doorway, and spoke in a lower volume. “Come inside. We ain’t got much time. School’s in a few hours.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. They attend classes? ...I’m not sure why I didn’t assume that in the first place. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, before stepping inside. I wonder if my own mind is beginning to deteriorate, like Frau’s. After all, I am fifty… eighty eight, he corrected, taking into account his thirty years in cryostasis.

The interior of the small building was, he must admit, nothing short of homey. A decorative rug dominated the center of the floor -the wooden planks of which had been painted a sort of teal color- and a table in the far corner was covered in pieces of parchment, with words scrawled on -and crossed out- in black ink. A couple end tables sat on opposite walls, and a lantern on each one of them being the source of light for the entire room. He was even able to stand upright once inside; though, he still had to duck his head under the door frame.

“So, what do ya think?” Tiny-Me then asked him, looking up at him -as did the other two- with wide eyes.

After giving the entire room another quick check, he shrugged. “It’s… not the worst evil lair I’ve ever seen,” he said, offering his compliment with a tablespoon of salt. “So you have me here. Now what was it you wanted to discuss?”

“Well, first off,” Tiny-Me began, “I don’t think mah sister Applejack gave ya a chance, an’ I think it was wrong of her t’ pass judgement on ya like that.”

The doctor released a faux cough into his fist so as to cover up his barely-suppressed snickering.

“Also, we’ve all been blank-flanks for a long time,” she continued, oblivious to the doctors’ poorly-disguised joviality, “an’ I’m tired of Diamond Tiara pickin’ on me for it!”

“Yeah!” supplemented the other two fillies in unison.

The doctor brought his fist back down to his side, and gave them all a stare of confusion. “You’re bullied by a frickin’ headpiece? And I thought my old henchmen had no backbones.”

“Diamond Tiara is this stuck up daddy’s girl at our school,” informed Scootaloo. “She thinks she’s better than everyone just because her dad makes a lot of money.”

“She picks on everyone,” added the still-unlabeled white filly, “but we get the worst of it for not having our Cu-”

A yellow hoof was what silenced her words. Tiny-Me gave her a look of warning. “He doesn’t like it when ya call it that.” Then back to the doctor, “Rule number two, right?”

“Correct, my apprentice,” the doctor said. He was impressed with how the most-likely-pre-adolescent adhered to the rules he had set forth, though he would never let it show. “So, it’s a fellow student that bothers you. It reminds me of my own childhood, in Bruges.”

“Really?” Tiny-Me said, surprised. “You were bullied?”

“For a very long time,” the doctor replied honestly. “They would make fun of me for the most trivial of things. ‘Your clothes are potato sacks!’ or ‘Your breath smells like onions!’ and even ‘Your real parents died in an explosion!’”

“That’s terrible!” said the white pony. “Why would anyone say such horrible things?”

“Well they were also true,” the doctor informed. “My clothes for the longest time did indeed come from common household objects -such as burlap sacks- and our diet was quite heavy in onions, as we could not afford anything else.”

“But, the thing about your parents wasn’t true,” Scootaloo interjected, “right?”

He stared at her blankly.

“Oh…” She then decided that the floor was much more interesting now than the minute prior, and directed her gaze upon it.

“So what got them t’ stop?” inquired Tiny-Me.

The doctor kneeled down onto one knee, so that he was closer to their eye level, and said in a chillingly-deliberate tone, “...I got revenge.”

The three fillies took a couple steps back, looks of worry and uncertainty growing on their faces. “Uh, mah sister said revenge don’t do nothin’ but ask for more trouble,” Tiny-Me told him. “She said that they’ll get what’s comin’ to ‘em eventually.”

“But you’re not very satisfied with that solution, are you?” he countered, donning a coy grin. “You don’t want it eventually; you want it now.”

Tiny-Me frowned. “Well yeah, but-”

“So take it!” he said; his voice booming much to the chagrin of the others. “That’s the beauty of being a villain; you want something? You take it.”

“But that’s wrong!” exclaimed the unicorn.

“Says who?” the doctor rebutted. “Was it the same goody-two-shoes that told you that revenge is wrong?” Then, back to Tiny-Me, “I could see it in your eyes when you said her name; you hate her, don’t you? She’s hurt you plenty, hasn’t she?”

He then stood back up, and spoke to all three of them at once. “Aren’t you all sick and tired of her bullshit? Aren’t you frickin’ fed up with the ridicule? With the horrid pain their words bring you? All the goddamn poking and prodding you about things you can’t control?” He then crossed his arms. “Besides, they said that they’ll get what’s coming to them eventually. Well, who’s to say that eventually hasn’t already come? Who’s to say that it’s not you who must take action, instead of relying on fate?” His arms fell back down to his sides, and his hands were balled into fists. “You know where fate got me?” he questioned, jabbing a thumb towards himself. “Stuck in a land full of talking goddamn horses!” His exclamation was followed by absolute silence for what felt like the longest time.

“...He’s right.”

Everyone’s attention was directed back at the yellow filly who looked up at the doctor; a renewed vigor in her eyes. “I’m tired of bein’ pushed around!”

“Me too!” cried Scootaloo.

“Me three!” added the unicorn.

“That’s the spirit!” said the doctor cheerfully. “Embrace the utter hatred, and use it against all of your problems! Stick with me, and you’ll never have to deal with anyone ever again!”

The three fillies then joined their hooves together in a form of huddle, before flinging up into the air and crying, “CUTIEMARK CRUSADERS, SUPERVILLAINS!”

The doctor cringed, plugging his ears for the duration of the deciblular assault. Once their cheerful screaming had subsided, he removed his fingers. “Okay, three things; one… Right in my frickin’ ear,” he began, rubbing the side of his head. “Two; you’re all more henchmen than villains. And three; we’re not using that name anymore.”

The three turned back towards him, smiles on their faces. “Then what’ll we be called?” inquired Tiny-Me.

The doctor placed a hand on his chin, deep in thought, when Scootaloo exclaimed, “What about the Legion of Doom?”

“That sounds… just, awful,” the doctor replied coldly. “We need something that won’t draw attention to ourselves.”

“...What about Virtucon?” added the white filly.

“What, are we naming an evil organization or a frickin’ robot?” he retorted. Suddenly, the doctor had an idea. Of course! Why didn’t I think of this sooner?! “We will be called… the Million Dollar Club!”

The three ponies looked at each other with disappointed faces. “Do we have to be called that?” pleaded Scootaloo.

The doctor looked back down on him, the grin he had donned having disappeared. “What’s so bad about my idea?”

The three shared another glance. “It’s not that it’s bad…”

“It’s just…” Tiny-Me continued.

“Why don’t we just stick with our current name?” said the white unicorn. “People already know about it, and it won’t draw suspicion because we have meetings all the time already.”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Tiny-Me. “That’s a really good idea, Sweetie Belle!”

Doctor Evil brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and his face scrunched up in a horrid cringe. “Really? Sweetie Belle? You frickin’ horses have the worst goddamn names, you know that?” Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. “That reminds me; Tiny-Me already has a nickname, so you two need one as well.”

“Ooh! Sweetie Belle could be the Songstress, because she’s really good at singing!”

“And Scootaloo could be the Road Runner, because she’s amazing with a scooter!”

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Whatever floats your boat.”

“Aw, why don’t I get t’ choose mah own nickname?” Tiny-Me complained.

“Because TIny-Me is exactly what you are; a tinier version of myself. You are my apprentice, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” began Tiny-Me, “but I don’t want anyone makin’ fun of me for havin’ that nickname.”

The doctor placed his face into his hand, slowly shaking his head. Oh, for the love of- “Did you not just hear my evil speech two frickin’ minutes ago?”

It didn’t take Tiny-Me long to perk right back up, with a somewhat-sinister grin. “Oh yeah! Bein’ a villain is gonna be fun!”

“Uh, girls?” said an uneasy Road Runner. “It’s almost daylight out. We gotta get going if we don’t want ponies wondering where we are.”

“Oh shoot, that’s right,” commented a miffed Tiny-Me. It was at that time that the three all brought their hooves back together. The doctor plugged his ears once more, but pulled them back out upon seeing that they were all staring at him expectantly.

“What do you want?” he questioned.

“You’re a member of th’ club now,” Tiny-Me stated. “That means you get t’ do this with us!”

His shoulders suddenly slumped. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.”

“Oh c’mon!” the Songstress whined. “Just this once? To finalize it?”

After a moment of reluctance, the doctor finally ceded, placing his hand on top of the other hooves. I can’t believe I’m subjecting myself to this.

“CUTIEMARK CRUSADERS, SUPERVILLAINS! YAY!”

His newfound proximity almost brought tears to his eyes as the verbal assault deteriorated his eardrums. The fillies continued to stare at him, and he sighed.

“Cutiemark Crusaders supervillains, yay,” he mumbled, much to the amusement of the others.

This is gonna be a long day.

Author's Note

And... new chapter. Brought to you by the letter "Q".

EDIT: Changed the chapter title so that it references something somewhat similar.

Revenge is Frickin' Sweet, Yet Not Fattening

Not a sound was made as the doctor cautiously peered into the barely-lit domicile. The subtle breathing of the several small animals in their makeshift dens was the only noise to be heard, and the only light was that which shined through the windows from the early morning sun.

The sun that rises in the frickin’ West, thought the doctor with chagrin as he stepped over the body of a sleeping ferret. For Christ’s sake, doesn’t she make them sleep outside? Where they frickin’ belong? He slowly closed the door behind him, and continued towards the kitchen. “Hmm…” Perhaps I could use her affinity for the local fauna to my advantage. I could blackmail her into my servant by threatening the lives of her beloved pets. Or perhaps I could use her to command these little furry bastards to do my evil bidding. The thought of commanding a pack of weasels, however, was far from satisfying. Oh who am I kidding? No one has ever been scared of a frickin’ rabbit.

After an excruciatingly-long minute of navigating the labyrinth of unconscious fuzzballs, the doctor finally made it to the kitchen, where the light of the sun shined brightly enough to illuminate the entire room, revealing an open window above the sink.

He raised an eyebrow in thought. Was that window always open? he wondered as he approached the counter. There was a soft breeze emanating through the open window, that carried along with it the scent of magnolias. Outside, the forest of which he had just recently emerged from lined the left side of his field of vision, and seemed to stretch onward for an infinity; though that isn’t saying much, as a hill brought the horizon to a distance of what the doctor could only assume was around fifty feet.

To the right, he could see that the forest line curved to the right around the hill, and he saw it continue past the mound of dirt and grass to the side. Smoke could be seen rising above the trees. Before the doctor could even begin to wonder what the source could be, he heard a faint, yet obnoxious voice scream, “Oi! Get back here ya wee morsal! Get in mah belleh!”

He cringed. What a fat bastard, he thought, reaching a hand out to close the window. At least he’s a good cook, though. The window was shut with the sound of gushing air as the airtight seal was reformed. The moment that he turned around, however, he heard the loud crash! of something shattering on the floor coming from the living room, followed by the cacophony of animal calls and cries of agitation.

The audibular assault on his eardrums was nothing short of horrific as the doctor covered his ears with the palms of his hands. Can’t that yellow abomination watch where she’s frickin’ going? he thought as he rounded the corner of the doorway. “Hey!” he screamed over the cries of the animal choir. “I’m gonna kill these little rodents if someone doesn’t-” As his eyes fell upon the animals’ center of attention, his words were quickly silenced. Before him, an equine figure draped in a burlap -and it was indeed made out of burlap- cloak covering every inch of his figure, standing before a broken lantern. Oil spilled from the unlit light source, releasing a foul odor into the air. The two stood there, staring at each other, neither willing to move. It was the doctor who broke the silence.

“Are you the same one that broke into that big tree house?” he inquired, recognizing the cloak.

He never received a reply, however, as a nearby book was magically thrown straight at the doctor’s face, knocking him back onto the floor with a loud thud, his back propped up against the wall. The doctor brought his hand up to his nose, groaning in agony. “Gah!” he cried out, feeling a warm liquid pool onto his upper lip. “Goddamnit! You gave me another nosebleed you a-hole!”

But the figure paid him no mind, favoring -to the doctor’s surprise- to jump straight out the window, shattering it and piling on the pitter-patter of falling glass to the biting cacophony of noise all around him. He sat there on the ground, pinching his nose and doing his best to prevent any more blood from staining his clothes, when he heard a loud series of thumps upstairs. They eventually found their way downstairs, and amidst the chaos, the appearance of his landlord seemed to put his mind at ease.

The one time I’m happy to see a pastel-colored horse, he thought cynically. “Shut them up!” he commanded, his pinched-off nose altering his voice. “Shut them up, shut them UP!”

Piercing through the ghastly cries of various animal species, a quiet humming radiated over the choir and -to the doctor’s relief- already, the room became quieter. The cries were reduced to squeals, were reduced to calls, were reduced to absolute silence, save for the appealing song that only now did the doctor realize Fluttershy was humming. He was content to sit resignedly on the floor, listening to the rise and fall of her humming as it seemed to weave a calming tale for him. Even the pain in his nose began to ebb.

When the song had concluded, the animals were at peace; some going back to sleep, others wandering around to begin their day, and others yet deciding to watch her intently, waiting for another song. The doctor raised an eyebrow, watching as Fluttershy scanned the room. When she beheld the injured man on the floor, however, her pleasant demeanor was replaced with that of anxiety. “Oh my, you’re hurt!”

“I’m fine,” he said as she hovered into the air and rushed towards him, holding his head firmly yet gently between her hooves as she examined his wound. “No really, I’m fi- I’m fine!” He pulled away, eliciting a perplexed look from Fluttershy. “Your house just got frickin’ broken into!”

“Wait, what?” Fluttershy scanned the room once more, immediately noticing the shattered lamp and window. “Oh my! Did he hurt you?” she inquired, looking back at him.

“I’m fine, but we gotta get a frickin’ move on!” he said, standing back up. “I wish to speak with this jackass about a tree.”

“We can do that later,” Fluttershy said, trying to gently push him towards the kitchen. “But first, we need to get that nose taken care of.”

“He’s gonna get away!” he shouted, pushing past the meek pegasus to look out the window. Outside, there was no trace of the incognito bandito anywhere.

Incognito Bandito… I don’t know how I come up with these things, he thought proudly, before remembering that he was supposed to be upset. With the correct mood in mind, he turned back towards the flying pegasus. “Well, way to go, numbnuts. Because of your weird obsession with my nose, I lost him. Way to frickin’ go.”

She frowned. “But didn’t you say last night to focus on the one who was injured?”

“I-” His voice caught in his throat as he recalled the conversation of the night prior. “...suppose you’re right.” After a moment of thought, he then said, “From now on, if my injury isn’t life-threatening, then you need to deal with the most important issue at the moment. Understood?” Upon receiving an understanding not, he sighed. “Now get me a frickin’ tissue.”

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

The day’s first rays of sunlight had only just begun to peak over the edge of the town when Sweetie Belle had departed for classes that day. Her saddlebag of books seemed especially heavy, as did her eyelids, on account of her having woken up far earlier than she would have liked.

Stupid secret meeting, she mentally chanted over and over again as she trudged down the street. Looking around, she saw several other fillies and colts leaving their own respective homes; they were all heading for the same destination, after all. Looking to her right, she saw her friend Scootaloo walk through her front door, with her parents waving out at her.

Her parents are so nice, she thought idly as her course changed from the school to her friend, soon walking next to her. “Morning, Scootaloo,” she said weakly.

“What’s so…” Scootaloo squinted her eyes and released a yawn into her hoof. “...What’s so good about it?” Upon a closer examination, her eyes had developed dark bags beneath them; no doubt because of their lack of sleep. Her mane was also even more unkempt than usual, and the feathers of her wings were ruffled. It looked like she had just rolled out of bed.

“I didn’t say good morning,” Sweetie Belle retorted, licking her chops. Then, upon tasting her own vile morning breath, she cringed. Oh no, I forgot to brush my teeth! I hope no one notices.

Scootaloo opened her eyes widely for a moment, before they fell back down to their weighty, squinting stature. “I don’t know about you,” she began, “but I don’t think having that meeting at four in the morning was such a good idea.”

“I know,” she agreed. “I couldn’t sleep at all; I was too excited about being a supervillain.” The mention of her new title, even now in a moment of sluggish fatigue, brought a smile to her face. “What would an evil cutie mark look like?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe a skull? That seems pretty evil to me.”

“But what sort of talent does that even show?” Sweetie Belle questioned. “What about a laser?”

Suddenly, Scootaloo’s fatigue was forgotten for a mere second as she perked up. “Or a skull with a laser on its head!” Her optimism was ruined, however, when another yawn emerged from her lips, forcing her to remember that she was incredibly tired.

“That would be pretty cool,” Sweetie Belle admitted. “But I don’t think- Hey, is that Applebloom?” The two looked onward to find a yellow filly with an iconic red bow in her hair, standing straight up and leaning into a building, with her back to the duo.

“Applebloom!” Scootaloo weakly called, trotting up next to her. Upon examination of her face, however, Scootaloo snickered. “And I thought I was tired.”

“What is it?” Sweetie Belle asked, eager to share in her friends newfound joviality. She trotted up next to Scootaloo, and saw that Applebloom had fallen asleep leaning on the wall. Her head was rested on the windowsill of the house, and she was snoring peacefully.

Apparently, too peacefully for Scootaloo, who shook Applebloom awake by her shoulders. “Hey, wake up!” she said loudly, causing Applebloom to jerk her head up and look around frantically, with her eyes wide open.

“What! Who! Where!” Her darting eyes rested on those of her friend, and she sighed in exhaustion. “Oh, did ah doze off a bit?”

Sweetie Belle was the one to respond. “Uh huh. You didn’t get any sleep either?”

“Eenope,” Applejack said abysmally. “Mah sister caught me comin’ inside this mornin’, an’ when she finally let me go upstairs, the-”

“Applejack caught you?!” Scootaloo exclaimed, forgetting her fatigue once more as her previously-sluggish dialogue took on a scared, fidgety edge. “What did you tell her?”

“Ah told her the truth,” Applebloom admitted with a grin, which only grew as the two friends before her exchanged looks of anxiety. “That we were plannin’ on prankin’ that stuck-up, no-good Diamond Tiara.”

Sweetie Belle felt a knot unravel in her chest, and she released a sigh of relief. “And she bought it? Isn’t your sister supposed to be the Element of Honesty? As in, you can’t lie to her without her knowing?”

“That’s just it though,” Applebloom said slowly, her grin becoming a sinister sneer. “Ah wasn’t lyin’. We’re gonna get that filly fluesy what’s comin’ to her.”

Sweetie Belle gulped. This can’t be good… Wait, of course it can’t be good; we’re super villains now! We’re not supposed to do anything good. Apparently Scootaloo had come to the same conclusion, because she had amplified the dark situation by tacking on a far-too-convincing evil cackle reminiscent of that of Nightmare Moon’s. Upon her conclusion, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom were both shooting her looks; Sweetie’s of suspicion and reluctance, and Applebloom’s of pride and affirmative.

“...That was, uh…” Sweetie Belle began, gulping audibly, “really good, Scootaloo.”

“Thanks!” she replied proudly. “I’ve been practicing.”

“For how long?” Applebloom interjected.

“Three months… What?” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow as the two fillies shot her surprised looks. “You never know when you’ll need it!”

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

“...and the Prench armies marched onto the mountainside kingdom of Witherhold, thus securing it as what would soon be known as the capital of Equestria, Canterlot. Any questions so far?” inquired Cheerilee, who stood in front of a chalkboard with very rudimentary drawings representing armies and a crude drawing of canterlot from a distance.

Applebloom was about to raise her hand, when she heard whispering from behind her. “No wonder she’s not an art teacher,” came the hushed voice of who Applebloom thought was the worst pony in all of Ponyville, Diamond Tiara. Her statement was accompanied by the combined snickering of herself and her accomplice; Silver Spoon.

“What was that, Diamond?” called Cheerilee loudly, a look of irritation and suspicion on her face.

“Huh?” came the voice. “I said… you should totally be an art teacher! You know, instead of teaching history.” Her voice was accompanied by a sheepish chuckle, and Applebloom rolled her eyes.

There’s no way Miss Cheerilee’s gonna fall for-

“Oh!” Cheerilee’s previously-skeptical demeanor was replaced by that of cheery enthusiasm. “Well thank you, Diamond Tiara! What a nice thing to say.”

Applebloom then proceeded to bury her face in her textbook, groaning perhaps a tad too loudly. Her groan was reciprocated by a much louder one at the head of the class, which piqued her curiosity enough to lift her muzzle from the book.

Cheerilee was now giving her the look that had been deemed necessary to give to Diamond Tiara not a minute ago. “Is there a problem, Applebloom?” she inquired.

“Huh?” Lost in a moment of temporary confusion, her mouth opened and closed with no words escaping.

“Oh my, how late were you up last night?” Cheerilee then inquired in a reprimanding tone.

“The same time as ah always do,” she replied truthfully. Ah just woke up earlier than usual.

“Well, the bags under your eyes say otherwise,” she countered, before scanning her students. “Same goes for you three,” she added, pointing a hoof at both Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and another student, Rumble. “In fact, I think it might be a good idea if the four of you stay inside for recess and take a nap. I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep during today’s test.”

“WHAT?!” cried out three of the four students in unison. The only one who didn’t yell in indignation was Applebloom, who sat in her seat calmly, as though the teacher hadn’t said a word.

That gives me an idea, she thought, seeing several pieces of a puzzle fit together with ease.

“Actually,” Applebloom began, “that might not be such a bad idea. Ah am a lil’ sleepy.” As though to validate her claim, she released a faux yawn into her hoof, hiding a grin behind it.

“Thank you for being so mature about this, Applebloom,” Cheerilee said gratefully. “I’m glad you understand the importance of a good nights rest. As for you three,” she said, turning her attention to the foals to Applebloom’s left, “I don’t want to hear any complaining. It’s important that you get your fair share of sleep so that you’re well energized for the day.”

At that moment, she checked a clock mounted on the wall above the door to the schoolhouse. “Actually, it’s time. So you four, stay in your seats. The rest of you, go on out to recess.”

The once-quiet group of students suddenly turned into a raving mob of chatty ponies as they funneled out of the classroom and outside. As she passed by, DIamond Tiara left a crumpled-up piece of paper on Applebloom’s desk, who proceeded to open it with chagrin and caution.

teecher’s pet

Applebloom rolled her eyes, discreetly dropping the piece of paper on the floor. Ah might’ve been upset if she didn’t spell “Teacher” wrong.

Once everyone had exited the room save for the four students and their teacher, Cheerilee proceeded to draw each pair of curtains for each window, submerging the room into a dusk-level darkness. Once this task was completed, she opened a drawer in her desk. Retrieving a brown paper bag, she then made her way outside, saying, “I know desks don’t make very good beds, but you wouldn’t need to use them if you had gotten a good night of sleep in the first place.” And with that, she had left.

Almost immediately, Rumble had passed out with his face buried in his textbook, snoring loudly. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle each took to drearily looking forward at the chalkboard, their eyes slowly and sluggishly closing. Applebloom, however, went immediately to work, rummaging through the saddlebags next to her desk.

“Wait, what’s Applebloom doing?” whispered Scootaloo.

“Applebloom?” then came Sweetie Belle.

“Ah said we were gonna get Diamond Tiara back, didn’t ah?” she replied with equal quietness, searching her bag until she found…

Bingo.

She withdrew from the saddlebag a small, clear tube of a foggy yellow substance. On it was a label with a picture of a cross-eyed and swirly-eyed mare on it, with the words “Crazier Glue” above the picture.

“What’s that?” inquired Sweetie Belle as Applebloom slid herself out of her seat, moving back towards Diamond Tiara’s desk.

“It’s the glue mah brother was gonna use t’ fix our door,” Applebloom said, standing over the offender’s desk. “Takes two hours t’ dry, but when it does, it works really good!”

“You’re gonna glue her to her desk?” then asked Scootaloo. “Isn’t that a little extreme?”

Applebloom’s head shot up, and she shot Scootaloo a glare. “After all she’s done t’ us? She deserves a whole lot more than just a lil’ glue on her flank. An’ besides, we’re villains now! Doctor Evil says, ‘either go big, or go back to Belgium’, so ah’m goin’ big!”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo exchanged worried glances. “When did he say that?” Sweetie Belle questioned.

“And what’s Belgium?” inquired Scootaloo.

“Back when he made me his apprentice,” she answered honestly. “An’ ah don’t really know, Scootaloo, but it don’t sound very good.” At that point, Applebloom turned the nozzle upside down, unscrewing the cap.

“Hang on,” Scootaloo said, getting out of her own chair and approaching the mare with the not-so-lethal weapon. “You can’t use too much. If it takes that long to dry, then you have to use a really small amount so she doesn’t notice. Otherwise she’ll just get up and complain about the slimy stuff on her butt.”

From behind the trio, Rumble giggled in his sleep.

“You’re right,” Applebloom ceded, ignoring the pegasus in the back. “Well, here goes nothin’.” She brought the nozzle down, and made seven small dots with the yellow glue. It came out like normal crafting glue, only a little thicker, and emitted a foul odor reminiscent of a doctor’s office. Once she stopped, she put the glue cap back on, and before she could put the glue back in her own bag, the door handle of the classroom began fidgeting.

Her eyes widened and her pupils shrank as she made a mad dash for her desk, tossing the glue across the room to use both of her hooves. Scootaloo did the same, racing through the rows of desks until she slid into her own seat. Applebloom put her head down into her forelegs, peeking over them with one squinting eye.

The two just barely made it to their seats as the door opened, revealing Cheerilee. She silently walked inside, taking care to shut the door and move to her desk with as little noise as possible. She opened another drawer, before removing another paper bag. This one had the word “lunch” written on the front in a big black marker. Carrying the bag in her mouth, she slowly moved back out the door, shutting it quietly.

All three fillies released heavy sighs of relief.

...Wait, what was in the first bag then? Applebloom inquired silently.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

“Pencils down!” called Cheerilee from her desk. Following the sound of her voice was the simultaneous -almost autonomous- clicking of pencils on desks. Applebloom eyed the clock warily, counting down the minutes.

Please be dry, she silently pleaded. Please, please, please be dry!

In truth, it had only been an hour since the glue was applied, and Applebloom was biting her lower lip in anxiousness. She looked down at her test; she was almost certain that she had failed, though that was a bridge she was willing to focus on when she came to it.

All of a sudden, something clicked in her head. What if Cheerilee asks us to bring the papers to her instead of collecting them? The glue might not be dry by then!

“Alright,” began Cheerilee, “now I want you all to bring me your papers, please.”

In an instant, Applebloom clamped down on her lower lip in anxiousness. Please be dry!

With the calmness and collectiveness of a frightened dog, Applebloom -along with every other student- slowly approached the desk with her test.

There was a loud bang, as though someone had dropped something heavy. “Hey, what gives? I’m stuck!”

Those five words took all of Applebloom’s anxiety, and promptly threw it out the front door as she found a challenge in keeping a big, smug grin off of her face.

Thank Celestia, she thought, releasing a pent-up breath before turning to see the young rose filly jolt to and fro in a feeble attempt to break apart the adhesive. “You’re stuck?” she repeated, donning a mock expression of concern and surprise. Meanwhile, the entire class

“Oh like you don’t know,” she spat sharply, jerking once more to her side. The legs of the desk itself lifted on one side every time that she did so. “I bet it was you that did this in the first place!”

“What..?” Applebloom slowly reeled back in faux offense. “Why would ah ever do somethin’ so mean?”

“Oh don’t act so innocent,” hissed Tiara. “You’ve had it out for me all year!”

This time, Applebloom was truly surprised. “Ah’ve had it out for you?! Now just wait one-”

“Enough!” called Cheerilee in a boisterous voice, drowning out the cackles and titters of the other students. Once all was silent, she scowled. “You all should be ashamed of yourselves for laughing at this poor student! What if it was one of you?” She extended a hoof, panning across the small crowd as she continued. “It wouldn’t be funny then, now would it?”

The class was silent. Cheerilee took a deep breath, before turning to Diamond Tiara. “Now, let’s not go to put a blame on anyone just yet. Now let me see here…” She approached the fuming filly slowly, lowering her head to examine the chair. “...Is that… glue..?” She looked up at Diamond Tiara. “And you’re absolutely stuck?”

“Well duh,” DIamond Tiara said brashly, folding her hooves indignantly across her chest. “Why else would I say I’m stuck?”

Cheerilee sighed, standing back up. “It’s probably something like superglue then, meaning that we need to call someone to get you out.”

Applebloom bit her tongue to avoid a giggling fit. She’s gonna be so embarrassed, she’ll never live this down!

Suddenly, Cheerilee turned back towards Applebloom. “But it also means that some little filly has a lot of explaining to do.”

She almost bit her tongue off as her jaw clenched, causing her to open her mouth in pain. “Ah… what? Why’re y’all lookin’ at me?”

“Well,” began Cheerilee in a reprimanding tone, “it had to be either you, Rumble, Sweetie Belle or Scootaloo, considering that you were the only ones that could have done this without anyone knowing.”

The anxiety that had previously been tossed out of the metaphorical window suddenly came back with friends, and Applebloom felt her eyes widen and her breathing near the level of hyperventilation. Shoot shoot SHOOT, how did ah not think of that?!

“And while only you three girls have any probable cause,” she continued, “it seems to be you especially who has a problem with her.”

“But ah didn’t do it!” she cried, feeling her chest tighten up as her plans all crumbled around her.

“Miss Cheerilee!” suddenly cried a familiar voice on the opposite end of the room; a familiarly-scratchy voice belonging to that of what Applebloom considered the second-most accident-prone pony in Ponyville, Snips. “Ooh, Miss Cheerilee!”

Cheerilee released another sigh, looking away from the yellow bow-clad filly and towards the source of the voice. “Yes, Snips?”

“Look! This was poking out of Rumble’s saddlebag!” The stout, green colt then brought up a hoof, and in that hoof, he held…

Applebloom’s eyes grew even wider. Wait, what?! But, how?!

Everyone in the room released a surprised gasp simultaneously; that is, save for the grey colt that was currently resting his unconscious head on his half-completed test paper. Cheerilee stomped a hoof heavily on the floor, causing the colt to jerk up with half-open eyelids. “Whah..! Huh?” He inhaled in a sharp, snorting way, before rubbing the fatigue from his eyes. “What happened?”

He then shied back as Cheerilee shot him an angry stare. She approached the colt, retrieving the small bottle that Snips had found and examining the label. “...Crazier glue? Rumble, you have some explaining to do.”

His eyes opened a bit more, looking up at the bottle in her hoof. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know, Rumble,” she began. “For doing this, I’m giving you this week and next week of detention, and I’m contacting your parents. Do you know how dangerous using glue on a pony can be?”

“Wait, what did I do?” Rumble shook his head for a moment, his eyes opening even wider.

This is… Applebloom brought a hoof up to her mouth, biting down on it to keep from exclaiming in joy. This is perfect! When ah threw the bottle, it musta landed in his bag!

“And apparently, you’re going to need a new test as well,” she continued, “because you’ve drooled on this one.”

“But I- But you- I-” Rumble began sputtering and babbling incoherently, before finally letting his head hang low. “Aw man…”

Cheerilee then turned around towards Applebloom. “Applebloom, I apologize for accusing you.” Applebloom did her best to keep calm in this newfound glory, replying simply with a nod, before Cheerille then turned to Diamond Tiara. “I believe you owe her an apology as well.”

“What?!” exclaimed Diamond Tiara in outrage. “Why should I have to do that?”

“Because you were just as eager to accuse her as I was,” Cheerilee replied, “and that was wrong of both of us. Now, apologize.”

With a huff, Diamond folded her arms inward once more and stared down at her test, which had still not been taken to the front of the room. “Sorry,” she spat, as though the words were poison.

One pony’s poison, however, was another one’s perfume, and Applebloom basked in the glow of Diamond Tiara swallowing her pride. “It’s no problem, DT,” she replied with a big grin. “No problem at all.”

Author's Note

OH SHIT! A wild chapter has appeared!

Three cheers for the not-dead-anymore Weezil, here to bring you more of his beautiful story.

Also, my 2nd grade teacher did this if anyone fell asleep in her class. That, or she would slap a ruler on the desk by our heads.

School was fun.

EDIT: Thunderlane shouldn't be in school, goddamnit.

First Frickin' Contact

The indigo sky was dotted by a myriad of stars, some brighter than others, though all eclipsed by the great white orb that was the Moon, which hovered over the landscape on its zenith. Below, in the great field neighboring the small town of Ponyville, the inhabitants had all gathered together in a great crowd to watch the light show that was about to play out before them. Tonight, a meteor shower was scheduled to occur -one that occurs only every few years, in fact- and neither a certain magenta mare -nor her devoted friends- were going to miss it.

Amid the crowd of ponies, Twilight Sparkle and her friends sat at the apex of a taller hill, sitting around each other on top of a checkered red-and-white blanket. Two simple-woven baskets marked the center of the group, once filled to the brim with food, but as time had passed, the supply had dwindled down to a mere three apples and an apple fritter.

“Dibs!” called Pinkie Pie, diving head-first into the small basket and disappearing completely, though the dimensions of said container should have denied that as a possibility. After a moment, her head popped back out like a gopher, munching on what remained of the tiny dessert, crumbs spilling from her mouth as she ate. After an exaggerated gulping sound, she fell into a fit of giggles, falling over and tipping the basket with her.

Twilight sighed, having been eyeing that fritter for the last ten minutes. But fritters were the last of her priorities, because as the time neared midnight, so did the impending astronomical air show. Afterwards, she had planned to go out into the fields and possibly find any stray fragments of the extraterrestrial minerals for study, though not until the morning, as it would be nigh on impossible to find anything with the current level of lighting, even with the magnificent radiance of the moon -which seemed quite larger in comparison to the night prior, Twilight had noticed.

“How much longer, Twi?” asked Applejack, stifling an impending yawn with her hoof. “Ah gotta wake up early tomorrow for apple buckin’.”

“It should just be another half hour,” she replied. “Afterwards, we can all go-”

“Ooh, it’s starting!” shouted Pinkie Pie, raising a hoof up towards the sky.

“Wait, what?” she said incredulously. “That’s impossible, it’s not supposed… to… huh?” Up in the sky, a small yellow light began crawling across the sky, traveling at the speed of a snail from the perspective of the crowd, who had all silenced to watch the show. For a minute, everyone sat silently, observing the dot tediously crawl across the sky. “That’s not right,” she said. “I don’t understand.” Another minute passed, and idle chatter began to emerge from the congregation, the majority sounding off in a questioning or unimpressed tone. A couple ponies even went so far as to begin packing up their things.

However, Twilight noticed something peculiar. Wait… is it getting bigger? She wondered to herself. The size of the anomaly was indeed growing, at a pace that made her very uneasy. How could it be getting bigger? ...Wait, no, it’s probably just getting closer. But at the rate it’s growing, that would mean… A sudden realization hit her hard.

“We need to leave,” she said with urgency. “Now!”

“Huh?” said the group synonymously, giving her varied expressions.

“It’s heading right for us!” she stated rather loudly. Others in the large crowd began to murmur amongst each other in confusion, and some in worry.

“Oh relax, would you?” Dash said reassuringly. “It’s not coming for us, see?” She pointed up at the sky in the direction of the yellow fireball. Currently, it was perhaps thrice the size of a nearby star used for reference, and it’s crawling seemed to travel even slower. “If anything, it’s slowing down!”

"Rainbow Dash, just trust me," she pleaded. "The shower isn't supposed to start yet! We need to go!"

"Uh, Rainbow Dash?” Applejack at last said, squinting up into the sky. “It does seem t’ be gettin’ bigger.”

“Oh, not you too, Appleja- Wait, what’s that sound?” The cyan pegasus’s ears flickered once, before perking upwards. Twilight did the same, honing in on the newfound audio. The sound itself was very bassy, and at first near-impossible to decipher. After a few seconds, however, it became identifiable as a low crackling sound, like that of burning wood. And even later still, Twilight had begun to feel the ground beneath her hooves vibrate. Looking upward, the tiny point of light that at first seemed to saunter across the cosmos had grown a hundred times larger, the dark center of mass having taken its form amid a torrent of fire that enveloped it.

Twilight’s eyes seemed to grow with horror. Okay, think Twilight. From the angle it’s coming in at, and the speed it’s going, it won’t hit us. That’s good, that means we’re all safe and-

“EVERYPONY RUN!”

All it took was one, lone voice amongst the crowd to cause a frenzy. Ponies went every which way, screaming, running into -and trampling- anything in their way. Twilight looked back and forth between the crowd and the inbound havoc-wreaker from space. What do I do, what do I do?! I can’t have everypony going berserk! They need to all stay together, here, where it’s safe! But how exactly do I do that? She looked once more up at the sky. The fireball was only seconds from flying overhead of them at this point.

...Wait a second… Is it getting slower? Twilight shook her head violently, as though something that affected her vision needed to be shaken away. It is getting slower! But how?!

As the great anomaly finally flew overhead, she also noticed another puzzling detail; the fire she had seen before did not envelop the entire structure, but rather just the front -far too violently to be caused by trans-atmospheric friction, in fact- and at the back, several parachutes -at least she thought they were parachutes- had been deployed, for the seemingly-obvious task of slowing the object down.

And another oddity was the shape of the object itself; if she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that it resembled that of a bipedal creature with an outstretched arm carrying a sandwich. No, she thought, that’s just ridiculous. But why is it slowing down? ...Unless… A fictitious light bulb radiated inside of her mind, and her mouth hung agape.

“It’s a spaceship…” she breathed faintly.

“Come again, darling?” asked a semi-panicked Rarity.

“Don’t you see it?” Twilight questioned excitedly. “That’s engine exhaust! It’s a spaceship landing!”

Out of nowhere, Pinkie Pie emerged from behind Rarity. “Yay, space friends!”

“Well, if it is a spaceship,” Applejack interjected, “then where’s it gonna land?”

“I’m not sure,” Twilight stated, speaking rather quickly, “but it looks like it’s going to land in-town. Aliens, girls, aliens! What do you think they’re like? What would they look like? Oh, I have so many questions to ask them! But what if they’re not friendly? What if this is the beginning of an invasion? What if we’re all about to be enslaved for a thousand years? What if-”

Her words -and train of thought- were brought to a screeching halt as a yellow hoof blockaded her mouth. Fluttershy looked up at her with cautious -but not panicked- eyes. “Um, Twilight?” she began. “...They’re landing now.”

Twilight redirected her gaze to the sky, following the trail of thick black smoke that now stretched along the open field, and met the slowly-falling spacecraft as it prepared to land right at the center of town.

“C’mon, Sugarcube,” said Applejack slowly. Her anxiety was clear both on her face and in her words. “Let’s go meet yer aliens.”

By the time they had arrived, the crowd that had once existed in the open field now surrounded the space anomaly, giving it a wide berth as they waited for something to happen and speaking amongst themselves in an inquisitive and fearful tone. The spacecraft had landed on its “feet” just meters from the Town Hall’s entrance, and the parachutes were nowhere to be seen. The moment she set her eyes on the now-grounded starship, her suspicions were validated; it did indeed greatly resemble a fictional, bipedal creature in red-and-white checkered overalls and a happily-grinning face, carrying what was a massive sandwich, with only a few identifiable ingredients: tomatoes, lettuce, and onions. On the overalls, the words “Frisch’s Big Boy” were clearly visible in a black, stylized font.

“I wonder who this ‘Frisch’ character is,” Rarity said. “You don’t suppose he’s the one inside, do you?”

“I haven’t the foggiest,” Applejack responded. “I’m more curious as to what he -or it- is doin’ here in the first place.”

“Maybe they have some super-secret intergalactic party supplies!” Pinkie loudly contributed. “Like comet-streamers or star-balloons!”

“I just hope they’re friendly,” Fluttershy added.

“Well if they’re not,” Dash interjected, rubbing her hooves together, “then we’ll send ‘em right back to where they came from!”

Her friends’ idle chatter was lost to Twilight, as she was pondering the events that have unfolded. First contact, this is incredible! This is history in the making, and we get to be a part of it! But I still can’t help but wonder why they would come here, of all places. Are they lost? Are they in need of help? ...Are they friendly..? She gazed back up at the now-unsettling grin that donned the statuesque spacecraft. Smiles usually mean friendly, right? ...But if they’re friendly, then why haven’t they come out yet? It’s been almost half an hour since it landed. Oh, what if they’re hurt? What if something malfunctioned and they need our help? If we tried to help, and they didn’t need it, they might see it as aggression. But if they do need help, and we don’t help them, they might die! Oh, think Twilight, think!

Like a knife through warm bread, a sharp hissing noise cut through the communications of the conversing congregation of citizens, causing all to be silent. Gazing at the statue that stood directly in front of the Town Hall, Twilight saw a jet of white gas eject from the statue’s… rear -to which she heard Pinkie erupt in a quiet series of giggles. Along with the gas, a panel slowly slid out and away from the ship, unfolding downward and becoming a ramp to a large compartment that was left in its wake. And shortly after that, an shiny, egg-shaped object rolled out of the small space, falling down the ramp and landing on the stairs to the porch of the Town Hall, effectively crushing them under its weight and propping the object narrow-end up.

Twilight took a deep breath, and gulped. This is it, she thought to herself, only able to take a few steps out from the crowd and towards the object before her movement was brought to an immediate halt by Rainbow Dash grabbing hold of her tail. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Dash questioned.

With a swift and gentle yank, the tail slid out of Dash’s now-slack hooves. “Well somepony has to greet them,” she replied.

“But what if they’re dangerous?!” Dash said worriedly, before quickly righting herself. “I mean, I could probably fend them off, but you might still get hurt in the crossfire.”

“Rainbow’s right,” Applejack chimed in. “I think we should wait fer the princess to get here.”

“I don’t think we have the time,” Twilight said honestly. “And what better way to greet them than with the Elements of Harmony?”

“Well then we should all go,” Dash submitted.

“Wait, what?” Fluttershy said anxiously, slowly backing away. “Oh, uh, actually, I think I have to go feed my-”

“No you don’t,” was Dash’s curt reply.

“B-but I also need to water m-my-”

“No, you don’t.”

"B-b-but-”

“C’mon now, sugarcube,” came Applejack in a reassuring tone. “We don’t even know what they look like yet. Fer all we know, they might look like, uh…”

“Big, fluffy bunnies!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, wrapping a hoof around Fluttershy and pointing to the stars. “Just imagine it; big extra-fluffy bunnies from outer space! And those big fluffy bunnies are gonna need someone to take care of them, right?”

“Well, if they came here in a spaceship, then they can probably help themse-” Dash was made mute by a purple hoof covering her mouth. Twilight shot her a glare that said something along the lines of are you kidding me?!

“...W-well, I guess so,” Fluttershy ceded, “but-”

“Then it’s settled!” Pinkie shouted, hugging Fluttershy tightly. “The aliens are staying at Fluttershy’s house!”

Fluttershy’s pupils shrank. “B-but I didn’t-”

“Now come on!” she said, “let’s go say hello!” And with that, Pinkie rolled Fluttershy onto her back, and began bouncing off towards the giant metal egg, with the others close behind. As they approached, Twilight took notice of other peculiar details concerning the pod, such as the large square that was cut in two on the front side. Twilight assumed that they were doors that would open for the creature inside. But another peculiarity was what looked like a small, frosted-over panel just above it. The panel was completely obscured by ice and frost buildup, but emanated a faint red light from beneath it.

I wonder what’s under the ice..? she thought, before looking up at Rainbow Dash. “Do you think you could wipe off the ice there?” she asked.

Dash nodded once, before flying up to the top of the object -which stood maybe three or four times their height- and rubbing her hoof up against the ice patch. Twilight’s vision was obscured for the most part, but after a moment, she saw a large, flat chunk of ice fall down to the ground, almost immediately melting in the warmer climate. The moment it made contact with the earth, however, Rainbow Dash flew backwards and up a good 10 meters, a look of panic having found a home on her face. “What is it?” Twilight asked urgently, before looking towards the panel herself. The moment she did, her jaw dropped.

A large, red-print six-unit clock was counting down, going from what Twilight read years, to months, to days, to hours, to minutes, to seconds. The time was from eight seconds when she first saw.

It’s a bomb, her thoughts raced. It’s a bomb! This wasn’t a spaceship, it was a weapon! All Twilight could do at this point was watch the seconds count down. Four, three, two, one… She shut her eyes tightly, bracing herself for the impact.

“Auto-thaw sequence initiated,” came a synthetic male voice.

Twilight opened one eye, to look up at the now-green timer that read all zeroes. “...Wait, wha-”

A point-blank shotgun blast of cold gas shot into her face as the pod hissed loudly, the frost –along with a myriad of tiny stringy objects– stinging her now-squinting eyes and burning her throat and nasal passages. She flew onto her back, coughing and rubbing her eyes. When she opened them, the gas had thinned out to the point where she could see the two doors of the pod slowly open outward, swinging on mechanical hinges that emitted a loud, grating noise. After another puff of gas was ejected -the remainder of the gas trapped within the compartment- Twilight stood back up in order to peer into the pod. What she found filled her with both horror and intrigue.

There sat a single, four-limbed creature of approximately six feet in height, in a chair that appeared to be built into the pod itself. The creature’s skin was grey, and its small –yet bulbous– eyes were closed. It had a large projection on its face –Twilight assumed it was either a beak or a nose– obscured by a yellow sort of mask that covered its mouth and connected it to a large green cylindrical tank behind the seat. It had odd-looking ears on either side of its head, just above the center of his face. The alien was also completely devoid of hair anywhere on its visible body; it wore a light grey uniform and a pair of brown shoes covering all but its hands and face, so she did not have much to go on. A small IV was buried in its wrist, injecting a clear liquid, and several small screens showed a series of numbers, letters and symbols that Twilight could neither understand nor imagine their purpose. The only screen she understood was the one in the far back, behind its head –the recurring trailing line that wobbled slightly and beeped with each pass was clearly recognizable as a heart rate monitor. Also, covering everything in the pod –alongside the packs of ice and frost– were thousands of tiny ice-covered fibers. Maybe that was his hair, she wondered.

Slowly, the number on the heart monitor rose, and the line traveled faster and stronger. Vents all around the pod ejected hot air into the cabin, melting the ice and blowing the small fibers out of the pod and into the air outside. Twilight spared a look behind her, to find that not only her friends, but several others had crowded behind her, watching the spectacle unfold.

The artificial voice sounded once more. “All systems nominal. Body heat approaching desired temperature in ten seconds.” The voice then began counting down from ten. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Reanimating client now.”

Twilight gulped. Well, here it comes.

Nothing happened at first. After a few minutes, however, Twilight could’ve sworn that she saw one of its fingers twitch. Then, another. The creature’s chest slowly rose and fell, and its eyes fluttered visibly beneath their eyelids. It rolled its jaw idly from side to side, and at long last, its eyes opened to reveal icey-blue pupils that stared straight ahead. A couple ponies behind her gasped.

Like that of an old dog, its movements were slow and trembling. It sluggishly brought up a shaky, bony hand up to its face, removing the mask that it wore and letting it go, allowing it to fall and hang out of the pod by the clear hose that still connected it to the tank. Doing so revealed that the creature had an angular nose, and a strange grey mouth that only stretched across by a few inches. Using that same hand, it reached down and grabbed the IV, yanking it out swiftly and allowing the clear liquid to drip out of the needle, which now hung with the mask outside the pod. That hand oozed a dark-red ichor –though very slowly– and the alien’s face donned a look of pain. Once more with the same hand, it retrieved something from beside the chair, placing it on its wrist. The creature mumbled something incoherently, before holding one hand over its mouth and coughing violently, causing all in the small crowd to flinch. Already, its skin began to change from its grey color to a pale tan tint.

With the sound of several joints popping at once, the being slowly pushed its torso forward and out of the chair with its arms, extending one leg out to touch the grass underneath it. The crowd backed away as the alien left the small cabin of the pod, standing upright on its legs and finally seeming to observe its surroundings. Its eyebrows raised as it examined the faces of each and every pony in the group, and then to the larger congregation that surrounded them. At last, it spoke.

“What’s with all the frickin’ horses?"

Author's Note

So a year later, and I finally start typing again! Now, I know that not a lot of people will be happy with the abandonment of "One Million Bits," but I hope that my newest work will sate your desire for our balding bad guy!

While it's similar to my first story in that it's about the doctor visiting Equestria, it runs a bit deeper than what my first story would've ever touched on, with an interesting story, funnier and more original jokes; the whole shebang!

All in all, I hope you enjoy this frickin' story!

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Frickin' Blue Fish

Applejack was the first to wake in her house, as was the case every morning. Upon the command of the rooster outside, she slowly faded out of the realms of her unconscious mind, and her eyes opened to the dawn’s early light as it shone through the crack of her curtains and weakly illuminated her face. She released a bellowing yawn, before stretching out her legs underneath her hoof-made quilt that was a gift from Granny Smith several years ago, and after pulling the covers aside, she inspected the clock on the wall above the door.

It’s only five thirty-eight? she wondered, licking her dry chops noisily. Roosters don’t normally call fer another half-hour. Of course, since the difference in time was nothing too significant, the curiosity slipped from her mind, replaced by the day's’ planned activities; the last of the apples were to be stored in the cellar, and then she was supposed to assist Pinkie with preparing the Town Square for the upcoming welcoming event; an event for a certain space being of which Applejack did not think deserved so warm a welcome.

The nerve of that fella, she thought bitterly as she took the hat off of her nightstand and set it on her back. Tryin’ t’ corrupt mah sister like that. She pushed the door of her bedroom open and stepped into the hall; ahead of her, there was a bedroom on the end of the hall, which took a ninety-degree turn to the left and down a flight of steps. To her left, there was the bathroom; her present destination.

The bathroom door was opened to reveal a simple bathroom; a small toilet in the back-right corner, with a sink to the left of it and a bathtub-cum-shower adorned with an apple-themed shower curtain was pressed to the far-left wall, occupying the entire wallspace. She set the hat on the countertop of the sink before reaching a hoof into the shower around the edge of the curtain to turn the faucet on.

Applejack flinched -as she did every morning- when the utter silence of the morning was shattered by the heavy cascading of water against the tub floor. A single switch-flip later, and the warming water showered from the spout that protruded from the wall almost to the ceiling. She put a hoof under the water to test the temperature; it was still cold, but warming quickly.

She sighed contentedly. At least we nipped that problem in th’ bud early, she thought optimistically. Who knows what kinda sinister things he’d have her doin’ if we didn’t catch him?

Suddenly, she heard something peculiar; a series of loud thuds downstairs, followed by a familiar voice groaning in pain.

Applebloom?

Turning away from the bathtub, she exited the room -shutting the door so that the fountain of continually-pounding liquid didn’t wake the rest of the house- and trotted down the steps to see that Applebloom was sprawled on the floor in front of the doorless entryway inside, gripping her back-left hoof and seething in pain through her teeth.

“Applebloom?” she called quietly. “What happened?”

“Stubbed mah hoof on the doorframe,” she groaned. “Tripped… ow…”

Applejack was quick to assist her sister to her three uninjured hooves, allowing Applebloom to lean on her back for support. “What were ya doin’ outside in the first place?” she wondered.

“I uh…” Her sister’s reluctance to answer the question caused Applejack to become suspicious.

“You what, Applebloom?” she questioned sternly.

“I… forgot something in the clubhouse!” she suddenly explained. “That’s what I wanted t’ say! Ah just woke up, so mah words are gettin’ mixed up.” When she looked up to see Applejack’s disbelieving and unimpressed stare, she gulped audibly. “Oh, alright… Me an’ the other girls were gonna play a prank on Diamond Tiara.”

The answer caught Applejack off guard; she had expected Applebloom to say that she was just hanging out with the alien. “A prank?” she parroted, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” Applebloom said, bobbing her head. “We were all just at the clubhouse planin’ what we were gonna do!”

“And just what would that be?” Applejack inquired. I didn’t take mah lil’ sister for a prankster.

“We didn’t really agree on anything,” she replied. “We were gonna go talk t’ Pinkie for ideas after school.”

Applejack inspected her little sister with scrutiny, searching for any sort of tell that she was lying. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find any trace of deceit in her sister’s body language. Huh… Guess she’s tellin’ the truth, she mentally concluded. “Ah know that filly’s been causin’ y’all all sorts of trouble, but remember what I said ‘bout gettin’ revenge?”

“You’re right!” Applebloom suddenly -and unexpectedly- ceded. “I should leave it to the adults to deal with it. I’m sorry, Applejack.” She then looked up at her with large, apologetic eyes.

Applejack didn’t buy it. “Just don’t go prankin’ yer classmates, okay?”

“Okay!” Her face suddenly contorted into one of intrigue, and her ears flicked. “...Is that runnin’ water?”

“Yes, it is,” Applejack replied. “I was just gettin’ ready t’ take a shower before y’all done banged up yer hoof.”

“Did ya remember t’ pull out the drain plug first?” Applebloom then inquired. “I think I can hear it spillin’ over.”

Applejack’s eyes shot open -completely disregarding her early-morning fatigue- and she flipped around, bolting up the stairs. Oh, horseapples! Every time!

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

She stuck to the shadows; no one could have ever hoped to have found her, as she did not want to be seen. The Songstress was a riddle, wrapped up in a mystery, inside of an enigma. She dashed along the dirt path for a while, with such speed and elegance that would render any other speechless. But alas, she soon realized that slow and steady wins the race, and she slowed herself to a graceful canter.

Sweetie Belle threw herself into a full-on gallop for approximately forty-eight seconds, before her sore limbs forced her to slow down to a fraction of her former speed. Her breath came in heavy, loud heaves, and she shook her head frantically to shake the fatigue out of her eyes.

Soon, she caught sight of her target; the small town of Ponyville. It would be easy enough for her to navigate the streets without being seen, and she did just that. With practiced discipline, the Songstress dashed between houses and alleyways as quiet as a dead mouse.

Pushing herself far past comfort, Sweetie Belle sprinted straight down the central road, panting heavily and obnoxiously. Luckily, it was early enough that no one was awake to behold the ridiculous spectacle that played out in the middle of town.

Finally, she saw her final destination in the distance; Carousel Boutique. Her mission? To enter the building undetected and assume the facade that she had never left in the first place; a feat that was far from difficult for the Songstress. Using her amazing acrobatic abilities, she scaled the building until she reached an open window, where she climbed in to find her bedroom.

Sweetie Belle flung the front door open, resulting in a loud slam! only accentuated by her horribly-fierce breathing. Ahead of her, Rarity had passed out on a desk, barely shifting in response to the noise. Sweetie Belle then proceeded to the door on the opposite side of the room -breathing as though she had a medical problem with her lungs- before slamming that door open as well. Stepping through, she found the stairs, and after -strenuously and painfully- scaling the steps, she walked through her open door and jumped into bed, groaning loudly into her pillow.

Her mission was complete; no one would ever know that the Songstress had left.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

Scootaloo had brought her scooter to the meeting, and therefore found that she could reach Ponyville in only a matter of minutes. She had offered Sweetie Belle a ride, but was turned down on account of Sweetie Belle saying something about how the Songstress needed no such device to travel.

She’s taking this way too seriously, she thought as she sped along the dirt path, which soon became cobblestone as she neared the city limits. The ride had become somewhat monotonous -all of the buildings around her had begun to blend into a uniform beige color as she sped past them- and she almost passed out. A stray rock woke her up, however, and she soon saw her destination; a dark alley between two houses.

She pulled the scooter into the dark passageway, stopping at the far end. There lay a single cardboard box, several pieces of newspaper, and a half-eaten carrot. Sighing abysmally, she got off of her scooter, leaning it against the side of one building. She then climbed into the cardboard box, covering herself up with the newspapers. She took one particular article and began to read it;

Couple Dies in Spontaneous Combustion Accident; Filly is Left Homeless

Scootaloo felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she sobbed quietly into her hooves until she fell into a fitful sleep.

A stray rock woke her up, however, and she soon saw her destination; a simple beige-painted house with an open window on the first floor on the side of the house.

She rubbed the side of her head, hanging onto the scooter with the other. Why do I keep having that weird dream? she wondered. She soon slowed her scooter down with her wings, and after climbing off, she set the scooter up against the side of the house. Spotting a nearby cardboard box, she placed that on the ground under the window, using it as a stepping stool to climb through the open window. The room she found was actually her own; she immediately recognized all of the homemade Rainbow Dash posters.

Sighing contentedly, she flopped into her bed, almost immediately falling into a comfortable sleep.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

The doctor quickly learned a very important tidbit of information the moment the three fillies had left; Wait, how the hell am I gonna get back?

The day’s light was still dim, though slightly more prominent than when he woke up. The orchard around him, however, was like a labyrinth of which he was horribly lost inside. His chafing only increased in intensity as he walked aimlessly amongst the trees, unsure of where he was going.

Well this is just frickin’ perfect, he thought cynically to himself. They couldn’t have at least led me out of this god-forsaken place? It reminds me of the time I had spent a month trapped in a corn maze in Bruges. It was a family reunion, and I had nothing to eat but the corn of which the maze was made out of… Why am I narrating my thoughts like this? I know it was a family reunion, so why do I have to go over every goddamn detail in my own frickin’ mind?

He stopped walking then, resigning to sit down at the base of a tree and to hold his face in his hands. This place is ruining me, he thought abysmally. Not only is it curbing my lust for evil, but now it’s morphing my inner monologues! What the hell am I gonna do now?

Suddenly, something hard hit the top of his head, eliciting a frustrated groan from the criminal mastermind. He quickly flipped his head around -twisting his torso for a better view- to see what had assaulted him. However, all that he saw was more of the labyrinthian orchard.

What the hell was that? he wondered, feeling the ground around him for the offending object. Eventually, his hand fell upon a small, round object, and upon further inspection, saw that it was an apple. He looked up, and saw a couple more apples hanging from the branches; far fewer than what an apple tree should bear, meaning that it was recently harvested.

...Ah.

He rolled his eyes, silently berating the tree for its inability to hang onto a single red apple, before standing back up with a groan of effort. Well, I’d better start walking. An automatic chair isn’t gonna just saunter down and whisk me away. Stretching out his legs, he continued walking through the maze of trees, tossing the apple behind him uncaringly.

It felt like hours to the doctor -though the sky’s slight lightening signified that only a few minutes had passed- as he walked down the lines of trees. Eventually, he did find a break in the orchard, only to find himself in another puzzling situation. Somehow, he had made the transition from being lost in an orchard, to being lost in a forest; a dark, eerie forest. The doctor mumbled incoherent nothings under his breath.

Upon his utterance of said nothings, he heard something snap behind him; a twig, most likely. His eyes shot open, but he didn’t stop walking. If something’s following me, he reasoned, then I can’t let him know that I know. I need to catch him off guard. So, he kept walking for several more minutes. After the first noise, the trailing entity seemed to use less caution when following, and several other noises could be heard; other twigs breaking, rocks being tapped, leaves and other shrubbery rustling. All the while his eyes continually scanned the forest floor for anything he could use as a weapon. ...No… No, I’m not strong enough for that… Oh! There lay a long, gnarled root almost as tall as he was that laid on the forest floor. He exaggeratedly held his back with his hands for a moment, releasing a faux groan of discomfort. I’ll make him think I’m using the root as a cane, he thought with a wry grin. The poor imbecile won’t know what hit him! He bent down to pick up the root...

...And he never got the chance, as something hard and heavy clocked him upside the head from behind, sending him sprawling to the ground. Laying on his stomach, he now gripped his head, releasing a real groan of pain and discomfort.

“That frickin’ hurt!” he shouted, before pushing himself over to roll onto his back. He now got a good look of his assailant… and released a sigh of disappointment.

Of course it’s a zebra. Why the hell wouldn’t it be a zebra?

Before him stood a… small zebra, adorned with several ring-like pieces of jewelry and a mane stylized into a monochromatic mohawk. The zebra tossed something up and down in her hoof; he recognized it as a horseshoe.

After a moment of silence, he voiced his primary concern. “Did you just bean me with a frickin’ horseshoe?” His head throbbed in great agony, and he pressed his hand harder into the back of his head.

“I haven’t seen anything like you before,” she deflected, speaking in a deep, somewhat-sultry voice; a great and welcome change from everything he had been listening to during his brief stay. “Creatures like you; are there any more?”

“Why the hell would I tell you that?” he questioned, rubbing his head. “Who the hell are you anyway?”

“If you continue to be such a bother,” she said with a grin, “There’s a chance that I might throw another.”

Eyeing the horseshoe, he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m alone. You know you can get someone frickin’ killed doing that, right? I mean who throws a horseshoe? Honestly.” Before the zebra could respond, he added, “Wait, are you rhyming on purpose?” The zebra flashed him a toothy grin, and he buried his face in his free hand. “I hate this place.”

“Then why would you come here?” she inquired. “This is a story I would like to hear.”

“You can’t rhyme hear and here,” he said snarkily. “And what are you, my therapist? That’s impossible, because I had him liquidated thirty-four years ago. What, you think I’ll just pour my life’s story out to anyone that frickin’ asks for it?”

The zebra raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Very well then,” he said nonchalantly. “It was a beautiful Belgian day…”

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

ELEVEN MINUTES LATER

“...and now I’m living in the storybook of a prepubescent girl,” he concluded. In the short amount of time, he had taken to sitting in a small nook between two large tree roots, with the as-of-yet unnamed zebra standing in front of him a dozen feet away. Her eyes were opened wide, and her jaw hung agape only slightly as he finished his life’s story.

He stared at her expectantly, motioning with his hand for her to say something. “Don’t look at me like I’m some frickin’ pariah; speak!”

Slowly, she closed her open mouth, and she cleared her throat loudly. “...I’m not sure how to proceed,” she admitted, “but this is my warning; I suggest that you heed.

“These forests are dangerous,” she continued, “not a safe place to be. Bringing you down? It was easy for me.”

The doctor scoffed. “No one likes a braggart.”

“It will be easier for the other animals of the Everfree,” she continued, ignoring him, “to make you a meal. I suggest that you flee.”

“Hmm? Oh, you know what? I never thought about that!” he said with heavy sarcasm. “Leave the forest? Why didn’t I just do that? ...Oh yeah, because I’m frickin’ lost, that’s why!”

“I will guide you out of this place,” she told him. “I hope that there isn’t danger to face.”

“You and me both,” he replied, standing up shakily from his spot on the ground. When he looked back up, he saw that she was staring at his wrist; specifically, the massive red stain. He followed her gaze, before shrugging it off. “Oh relax; it’s my blood.”

Instead of saying anything, the still-unnamed zebra simply turned around, and began walking away. The doctor took this as a sign that they were leaving, and he trailed behind her silently, keeping to his thoughts.

She’s fairly adept at throwing horseshoes, he noted, eyeing the -mare? Is a female zebra a mare? he pondered- his gaze drifting down to the strange swirl insignia on her flank. Does that whole communistic talent assignment apply to zebras as well? And if so, just what is that squiggly nonsense supposed to represent? Is she a frickin’ Picasso enthusiast?

Surprisingly, the trip to the edge of the forest was only a ten-minute walk; ten minutes of hell nonetheless, as the doctors’ legs continued to burn and ache both from exertion and from chafing. They stopped at the edge of the clearing, and only a few feet away, there sat Fluttershy’s cottage. Through a window on the second floor, he saw that there was a light flickering inside.

She must be awake, he deduced. Good. She can fix me up a decent breakfast. He turned towards the zebra, who in turn looked back at him. “Good job,” he said with a nod. “Tell me; what was your name again?”

“Zecora,” she replied. “...That is my name. Now I-”

“Okay, can we knock off the Doctor Seuss crap?” he questioned-slashed-pleaded. “I don’t need your help anymore. I can bridge the gap.”

Zecora merely nodded -with a sneer the likes of which the doctor found rather unsettling- before ducking back into the forest. After a moment of looking back at her exit, he took a deep breath, and turned back towards the cottage. She seems fairly competent in completing miscellaneous assignments.

Halfway to the cottage, however, he stopped in his tracks, taking to rubbing his temples with his fingers furiously.

...God damnit.

Author's Note

For those that don't get the ending, he inadvertently rhymed "crap" and "gap".

This new chapter is sponsored by Nature Box. For great-tasting, healthy snacks and 50% off your first order, go to naturebox.com/roosterteeth.

I'm such a smartass.