Little Redd: the Lost Concept of Peace

Chapter Two

Pinkie Power

Another failed note struck sourly against the treble guitar, the drunken musician finding it difficult to keep her next few notes in mind.  Vinyl Scratch was frowning, adjusting the various volumes on stage to cooperate with the alcohol that had been snuck into the concert.  She had had a mug herself, but had realized what was going on with the mares on stage before she could finish her first, much less get her hooves on another.  She glanced up at Scootaloo, who was probably wondering why she couldn’t have any Apple juice.  But no, Vinyl soon confirmed, Scootaloo was freaking out trying to balance on Rainbow Dash’s shoulders while her drunken wings beat unevenly.  The poor kid probably wouldn’t want to fly anymore, much less try.  Once the dials were set, the switches flipped, and her ears once more enjoying the music, her attention wondered to the back of the crowd, where there was a bit of commotion building up.

“Pinkie, those—you—what—UUGH!”

Twilight’s eyes were bulging out of her head, looking like a pair of Pinkie’s balloons.  The alternative music was acidic to her patience, and her precious books being reduced to confetti, oooh.  Oooh.  No.  Last straw.

“How can—I can’t—how did—you can’t—you just—“

“I’m sorry…”

“NO!  Sorry doesn’t... cut…”

The fury faded from her eyes, and she threw herself back on her haunches, sighing.  She looked at Pinkie.  She was lying on her back, her forelegs tucked up at her chest.  Her pink friend’s eyes were huge, her mouth agape, mane completely flat.  But most of all, she was crying.  She wasn’t making a sound, her eyes following only Twilight’s.  But she was still crying, thin tears running down her cheeks.  She rolled to her side, curled up in a ball, and started sobbing.  Twilight was conflicted as to what to do.  She wanted to comfort Pinkie, but for some reason, her heart told her not to.  It wouldn’t let her stand, it wouldn’t let her move.  It just left her paralyzed sitting there, watching the aftermath of a rage that she’d never seen, much less felt.  Rainbow Dash came over, flushed, stumbling and tripping, giggling at nothing, and looked at Twilight, then Pinkie.  She made a face, and retreated back into the crowd.  Twilight couldn’t help but wonder what was happening.  Was it the cider?  Was everypony just in a bad mood?  And how in Tautarus did Pinkie make her books explode in confetti?

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Applejack once again left the house, feeling the cool moonlight wash over her.  Applejack stood there for a moment before getting an indescribable inkling to leave the farm for a while.  She headed off down the road, and out of nowhere, something smacked into her from above with a freaky buzzing sound.  Looking at the fallen load, she discovered Scootaloo lying across her flank.  Applejack’s jaw dropped.

“…Owww…”

“Scootaloo, did—did ya just fly?”

“I, eh, yeah actually.”

Scootaloo got up, and Applejack immediately followed.

“But… how?”

She flushed.

“Well, Rainbow Dash passed out mid-flight trying to dance to her favorite song, and I sorta just… flew.  It wasn’t something I coulda forced, I mean, I probably won’t be able to do it again, but…”

She fidgeted, pawing at the ground a bit.

“To be honest, I’m pretty thankful it happened.  The ponies were all acting sorta funny.”

AJ’s frown didn’t bother hiding itself.

“Uh… funny?”

“Something about apple juice.”

Applejack’s eyes widened.

“Apple juice as in, the Apple juice?”

Scootaloo didn’t really get the question.

“Uh, I guess?”

AJ sighed.

“Go inside, sugarcube.  Ah got some necks ta wrangle.”

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Applejack raced through Ponyville, a dark expression across her face, her Stetson clinging to her mane by the threads of a miracle.  Her lasso was in her teeth, and all she could do was hope.

Please be there, please be there, please be filing through late letters, please don’t let it by anypony else…

Applejack burst into the Ponyville post office, eyeing her surroundings.  The lobby was empty, the leftward end of the back wall had a counter, and behind it, a deep brown stallion, writing poetry by the magic of his horn, of which was a deep red.  His eyes snapped to her before he swiped the paper into his lap.

“Good evening, Applejack.  Can I help you?”

Applejack hung her lasso on the door handle to let herself speak.

“Is Derpy available?”

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Henry picked up the blue mare purely out of recognition that she was Fluttershy’s friend.  Heaving her over his shoulder, he kept a gentle claw on her to keep her from slipping off.  The poor bear was beginning to see stars in his vision though because Fluttershy wouldn’t stop jumping and dancing on his head.  Henry found this new side of Fluttershy interesting, but painful.  Just as he was considering losing conscience, those infuriatingly loud things stopped making sound, and the ponies playing them left the platform.  All the ponies around him were now even louder, and he started twitching, his left paw cringed, and, looking don, he realized he’d accidentally cut the unconscious pony lying on his shoulder.  Her cutie mark was cut through and bleeding.  His eyes widened, and he turned around, looking for his other friend, before, with a good hard knock, remembering that she was on his head.  He walked to the back of the crowd, being careful not to tread on any ponies, and set the blue Pegasus carefully on the ground in front of the purple mare who he also understood as a friend.  He then gently grabbed Fluttershy, and set her down beside the two as well.  It took her a moment to realize what the bear meant.  After noticing the damage which, up close, was discovered to be a lot worse than originally anticipated, Fluttershy gasped, and immediately set to work on her injured friend.  The purple one just sat around, not really doing anything.  She saw that the Pegasus was hurt, she just seemed unable to act.  Almost as if she were honestly paralyzed.  Suddenly a roar erupted beyond the crowd, silencing everyone, even making Henry turn.

Applejack soared through the air, her lasso in her mouth, her eyes alight with fury, her nostrils flared.  Even the pair of derpy eyes a few feet below hers were intimidating.  Derpy alighted atop the nearest building, only about ten feet from the left edge of the crowd.

“NOW!”  Applejack got off of Derpy, standing on her hind legs.

“WHARE THA HELL IS MY CIDER!?”