A Hero's Cocktail

by Melon Hunter

Rating: teen
Tags: Pinkie Pie, Crossover, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Spike, Comedy, Random
Length: 6766

A highly experimental collaborative fanfic.

What happens when a land no longer needs a hero? Where do they turn to? One such draconic ex-hero is about to find that answer beyond the fourth wall... along with a whole heap of trouble.

A highly experimental collaborative fanfic, co-written with AnonMD (Z) and birthed in the Fallout: Equestria Side Stories Document.

Published 2012-04-02 12:54:04 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-06 01:10:54 UTC

The First Shot

A Hero's Cocktail

By Melon Hunter & AnonMD1641(Z)

Chapter 1: The First Shot

“Get out of the bar, you drunken bum!”

Hero.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Saviour.

“Don’t show your scaly face around here again!”

Drunkard.

All in all, it was turning out to be an average day for Spyro the Dragon. He turned to his impromptu audience, incensed by their catcalls and howls. How he wanted to show them what he was; what he was capable of. He opened his mouth to shout them down, offer a word of protest.

“BLLUUGGH!” His stomach disagreed.

“Ugh! Get him out of here!” A swift boot to the flank launched him through the door. He landed facedown outside, rain streaming down his discoloured purple scales. He crawled over to a bin and hung his head over it.

“Uhhh...” Where had it all gone so wrong? He had saved the land from Gnasty Gnorc, Ripto and The Sorceress! He should have had statues across the land proclaiming his glory, not a humiliating night spent in a rain-soaked alley! The downpour swept away his tears of failure.

“Wow. And I thought I did badly after the last game,” came an amused voice. Spyro turned his head, slowly, painfully, towards its source. A black dragonness stood at the entrance to the alley.

“Cynder? What the fying fluck are you d’wing hrre?” he slurred. His claws lost their grip on the bin, and he began to slide towards the ever-welcoming concrete.

“Woah there! I think you’ve had a few too many, Spyro,” she laughed, catching him as he fell.

“No seriously, this in’t even t’right continuinuity...”

“Spyro. Shush. That wall’s taken enough damage tonight,” Cynder berated him.

“Whh?”

“Never mind. Just something a pink friend of mine once told me. We should probably get you out of this rain...”

“Mmmm...” Spyro mumbled his approval and drooled on her shoulder slightly.

“...mother of Gnorc.”

In a Galaxy, far, far away...

“..... is getting kinda creepy now Twilight....”

“What are you talking about? It’s only a metaphysical transmogrification spell!” came the lavender pony’s response.

“Yeah, but when the entire library starts to glow in the middle of the day, it gets pretty st- Actually, when have things ever been normal around here?” the small dragon asked.

“What do you mean by that?” Twilight turned, lowering the book she had been levitating in front of her.

“Weeelllll... Ever since we moved to Ponyville, really weird things have been happening. I mean, what about all those monkey things that are always watching us?” Spike asked, motioning towards the wall of the library.

“Spike, what are you talking about? Do you need to go see Nurse Redheart again?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

The dragon shuddered, remembering the horrors he had witnessed at the institution these ponies called a ‘Hospital’.

“No. Never again,” he replied adamantly.

“Good boy. Now... Go bug Rarity or whatever you do when you aren’t here,” she said rather icily, before turning back to her work, which then caused the entire structure to light up once more.

“Geez... What crawled up your-” Spike began to mutter, before being cut off by the PMS-ing unicorn.

“What was that?!” She turned, eyes ablaze with anger, one hoof raised in the air.

“N-No! GottagoseeRaritybye!” He blurted out, before vanishing with such a speed Pinkie Pie herse- (Message from Pinkie Pie: Ignore the Co-Author, he’s on some crazy shi-) Anyway, Spike narrowly managed to evade the storm of books hurled at the space he had previously been, before bolting out the door.

“That's what I thought.” Twilight grinned rather smugly, turning back to her book. “Now maybe I can actually get down to-”

And she was cut off as a huge shock wave of magic ripped through the building.

“Hhuuuhhh... Oh, brother...” Spyro opened his eyes a crack. He wished he hadn’t. The mother of all hangovers was visiting, and knocking on his head. The morning sunshine blazing through the net curtains was not helping.

“Well, good morning, sunshine!” came a cheerful voice.

“Ugh... Cynder? Little quieter. Please,” he begged her.

“I don’t think so. It’s not like it was my fault you knocked back six Firecraker Specials last night.”

“Nine.”

Cynder’s eyes flashed playfully. “Nine? I’m impressed. You really do know how to fall from grace, don’t you?”

“Whadda you know? You’re just... bad. Bad dragon,” he muttered.

She raised a paw to her chest. “Ouch. I’m hurt, Spyro. That was a hell of a comeback.”

“Oh shut up. Let me suffer in silence.” He slumped back down and groaned again.

“I made you waffles.” Silence. “With maple syrup and bacon?” Still nothing. “Also, a nice gin and tonic to go with it.” Spyro remained unresponsive. “It’s a triple measure.” She counted to three, before feeling his presence at her side, a roiling mist of ethanol pouring off of him.

“OK then. Let’s do this.”

She smiled sadly and collected the meal for him. She watched as he completely ignored the waffles, instead picking up only the glass. She saw the hero who had vanquished Gnasty Gnorc dreamily smile as he inspected the contents. The brave dragon who stood up to Ripto and his minions in a foreign land glugged the G&T down in one almighty gulp. Cynder had to turn away as the Sorceress’ ultimate foe began sucking on the lemon wedge to get the last few sweet drops of alcohol.

Reluctantly, she pulled open a drawer. She’d hoped this day would never come, but given the circumstances...

“Hey’m, Cynder?” He was already looking tipsy. “Y’don’t mind if I...?” A small bottle of brandy was clutched in his claws.

“No, it’s fine. Help yourself,” she said distantly. As he was distracted, she pulled open the drawer and retrieved the item inside. It was a lump of rose quartz, roughly carved into the shape of a balloon. The... creature who had given it to her had urged her only to use it ‘in the most super-duper, totally-end-of-the-world, no-point-of-return mega emergency’.

She winced as she felt the heat from Spyro’s belch, his flame breath having ignited the brandy. She clutched the stone to her chest. If the hero of this land was drunk out of his mind, unable to protect them from the next villain who showed up... well, if this wasn’t the end of days, it felt pretty damn close.

“I know we said we should never meet again. That the worlds couldn’t take it. But I don’t think I can handle this on my own anymore. He can’t. We’re stuck, we’re trapped and we need help before events overtake us. Please,” she whispered, tears flowing down her snout.

For a few dreadful, drawn-out moments, she strained to listen, the only sound being Spyro gradually and noisily clearing out her drink cabinet. As she was about to give up, and cast the stone away, it began to glow slightly. Cynder filtered out the noise of her lout of a friend downing a bottle of peach schnapps and held it to her ear.

“Okie dokie lokie!” came a cheerful, slightly tinny voice. “One grrrreat big, fourth wall shattering spell coming right up! Twilight’s casting one now! I’ll just go and startle her and we’ll be on. Our. Way!”

Cynder put the stone back down, gazing at it in her claws. “Thanks, Pinkie,” she murmured.

She felt the slight tingle of magic, and so did Spyro. The bottle of bourbon clattered to the floor. “Uh oh, Cynder, wassat, I think t’schpiders’re c’min’ back,” he slurred in a worried tone.

“No, Spyro. It’s help,” Cynder murmured, her face decorated with the first genuine smile it had worn for months.

And so, with a flash, Twilight jerked around, eying the room for the pink pony she was certain had disrupted her research.

“Pinkie, I know you’re in here! What have I told you about interrupt-” She stopped mid-sentence as she turned back to her work, to only find two dragons now sitting in front of her, one throwing up on her research while the other was giving her a weak smile.

“U-Um... Hello, is Pinkie Pie around?” the smiling dragon asked tentatively, looking around the now-partially-destroyed library. Twilight could feel one of her eyes twitch slightly, making the female, or at least she thought, dragon’s smile turn into a slight frown.

“Riiiight here!” A shout from somewhere behind Twilight rang out. She slowly turned her her head to see Pinkie stroll up to her and sit. Twilight the looked back at the two dragons. Thankfully, the one that had been vomiting had stopped, and was now teetering towards her kitchen as the other simply watched him go, a sad look on her face.

“It’s good to see you again, Pinkie. I... I had to use the stone becau-” She was cut off as a loud belch emanated from the kitchen. “That. Spyro’s been drinking non-stop for months now. I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself...”

Pinkie gasped. “So you wanted me to have an intervention party?! Yay! We haven’t had one of those since we helped Lyra with her monkey problem!”

“Pinkie. What exactly...” Twilight motioned towards the dragon in front of her, and then towards the sounds coming from her kitchen. “...Is going on here?”

“Oh! Well, Twilight, this is Cynder! And the drunkard in your kitchen is Spyro! They’re good friends of mine!” Pinkie exclaimed, bouncing to her hooves.

“So... Cynder.” Twilight motioned towards her. “Wants you.” Then to Pinkie. “To throw an intervention party for Spyro?” She finished by waving a hoof at the kitchen, right as a bottle of Jack flew through the air and shattered in front of her.

“Yes,” both the pony and the only sober dragon in the area replied, however there was a weak groan from inside the kitchen.

“Well. If you need me, I’ll be upstairs,” Twilight replied, her calmness rather unsettling to Cynder and Pinkie. As soon as she shut the door to her room, there was a loud shriek, the sound of glass shattering and a thud, one after the other.

“Should we go see if she’s alright?” the dragoness asked, turning to her pink companion.

“Nah, she does that a lot when I come to visit.” Pinkie waved a hoof dismissively as she began to trot towards the unicorn’s kitchen. “So let’s see how bad it is...”

“N-not again...” What’d happened? One moment he was just waking up from one hard night, and now... Spyro looked groggily around at the kitchen. It had changed shape since he’d last been in here; had Cynder got the decorators in or something? He slumped down to the floor, trying to make sense of the situation.

He had to do something. He was wired up wrong. All dragons had natural urges to hoard things; there was no shame in that. But while most settled for gems or other precious artifacts, he’d somehow managed to retain a penchant for alcohol. He suppressed a shudder at the memory of knocking back half the bottles in Cynder’s cabinet without a second thought; the sudden spike of shame cleared his head somewhat.

And what was that thing Cynder had? Something glowing... and there was that strange sensation...

“...want me to throw an intervention party?” he heard a cheerful voice say. Oh no...

She must have knocked him out somehow. Help. That’s what Cynder had said. He’d been put in here, and now when he walked out, there would be a big crowd of his old friends out there, all sympathetic-looking, all wanting to help. There’d be a banner, and maybe cake, and a whole heap of embarrassment.

“No way. You’re not fooling me that easily, Cynder,” he muttered. He pulled open a few cupboards until he found a mug, cheerily emblazoned with ‘My No. 1 Student!’. Spyro frowned at it. Since when was Cynder a teacher’s pet? Maybe it was from that control freak Dark Lord she’d gone on about... He filled it with water from the sink, and gulped it down, sighing as it refreshed his raw throat.

Setting the mug down, he opened the window and climbed out. A niggling little thought at the back of his mind nudged at him, trying to remind him that Cynder didn’t actually live in a tree. He paid it no heed; currently he was more focused on getting out of there undetected. Looking down, he saw that dropping straight out of the window wasn’t an option. There was a road below, and figures... strange, colourful figures. Dragons? Maybe...

Instead, he dug his claws into the bark of the tree, carefully shimmying his way around its circumference.

“Easy, easy now...” His head spun at the effort of holding up his body weight. He noticed another window nearby. He’d just go in there for a bit, rest, and maybe hide...

Spyro pushed the window open and set himself down inside. He looked around; apparently he’d found his way into a bedroom. Not the usual guest room he occasionally crashed in, but surely Cynder had a nicer room than this! It was just a ledge with a bed on it! He froze at the sound of someone coming upstairs.

“No, no, no. You’re not dragging me to that party!” he exclaimed. “Not if you’re a cheetah, or a fawn, or a dragonfly, or a...” his brow scrunched up as he saw who it was. “...unicorn?” He breathed.

Spyro heard a scream and saw a red flash. He flew backwards, pushed by some unseen force. His head smacked against the window, shattering the glass, and for the second time that day, he slipped into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness.

“Well that’s strange... I thought he had walked in here,” Pinkie said as she walked into the kitchen, which was now much messier than Twilight would have ever allowed.

“Are you sure we shou-” Cynder began, but was cut short by a lavender pony crashing into her.

“Pinkie! Come quick! There’s something big and weird in my room!” Twilight shouted, before running back to the base of the stairs. “C’mon!”

“Alright! Let’s go Cynder!” Pinkie shouted, racing towards the stairs, and then up towards Twilight’s bedroom. Cynder grumbled something unintelligible and got back to her feet and was shepherded up the stairs by the unicorn. The two heard a loud gasp, and rushed the rest of the way up the stairs and into Twilight’s room, only to find Pinkie cradling Spyro’s head near the window.

“Spyro!” Cynder launched herself to her unconscious friend.

“Twilight! How could you!” Pinkie shouted at the unicorn.

“W-How was I supposed to know?!” she replied, trotting over.

After a few moments of silence, Pinkie Pie spoke up. “Twilight.... Is he dead?”

“What!? Of course not, he’s only unconscious, I didn’t push him that hard...” she answered. “We should put him on the bed.”

“Alright, I’ll-” Before Cynder could finish her sentence, the unicorn had levitated him to the bed. “That works too.” She shrugged.

“So... Maybe I should go plan that party?” Pinkie asked, trotting to the doorway of the bedroom, a worried look on her face.

“Yeah,” Cynder mumbled, and looked back at Spyro, who was currently making a gurgling noise as he laid there unconscious.

It was... dark. And somehow his head hurt even more than before. That really, really shouldn’t have been possible. Spyro looked up to see Cynder sat at the end of the bed, facing away from him. He let his head fall back to the pillow, rubbing the sore spot from his impact with the window.

“Oh... you’re awake. You had us worried for a while,” she said softly.

“What? You and the little party you had going?” he snapped.

“Ah. You heard about that, then?” Cynder’s face fell.

“Intervention party? That... weird stone you had? Yeah. I got it figured out, Cynder. Who’ve you got out there? Hunter? Elora? Sparx, even? I don’t want to hear it!”

“Well, not quite. I think there’s been a bit of confusion,” she began.

Spyro snorted. “You mean before or after a unicorn showed up? Or maybe the part where I got launched into a window? Or when it turns out you’ve moved me into a treehouse?!” His voice raised in volume with each question.

Cynder flapped a paw at him to calm him. “Spyro, please! I just wanted to get you-”

“Some help. I know,” he said bitterly. “You don’t think I can see that I’ve got a problem?” He grunted and flung himself back down onto the mattress. “What kind of dragon hordes booze, anyway? Perhaps I don’t even deserve this.”

“Just listen to yourself!” Cynder laughed. “Stop wallowing in self-pity and listen.” He shifted slightly under the covers. “Look, I may have resorted to some... unorthodox methods, but what did you expect me to do while you were unloading my drinks cabinet?”

“Throw some cold water over me? I dunno,” he groaned, refusing to look at her.

“Oh, trust me, I’ve tried that before. It’s not that effective,” she sighed. “Have you ever even asked yourself why I’m here? You know I don’t belong here, and yet you seem to simply run with it anyway. In between your binges.”

“Well, I guess... I can’t really say. Everything’s felt off ever since I came back from the Forgotten Realms. What difference is one out-of-place dragon? Or for that matter, a freaking purple unicorn?”

“Yeah, about that...” Cynder tapped her claws together nervously. How was she going to explain this? “I may have sorta had us transported to a -”

She never finished her sentence, as a pink head suddenly appeared out of the bedside tables drawer with a cheerful “HIYA!”, and Spyro reacted in the one way any startled dragon will do; breathe fire.

Pinkie continued to smile, even though her mane was now, well, on fire. She seemed not to mind, and simply carried on with introductions.

“Hey there! I’m Pinkie Pie! Cynder’s told me a lot about you!” the pink earth pony exclaimed, most of her cotton candy-esque mane now gone. Both dragons were still speechless at her sudden appearance, shocked at how she could fit in the dra(Hey, is that a Fat joke!?)wer.

“Um... Pinkie. Your mane is...” Cynder recovered, motioning towards the pink pony’s head.

Pinkie glanced upwards, to where her darker pink curls would normally be. “Oh! Don’t worry about it! This usually happens once a week. Watch this!” She exclaimed, before shoving her hoof into her mouth. She then took a deep breath in to her nose, and then attempted to do something similar to popping her ears. Instead, there was a loud pop! that sounded almost exactly like bubblegum, and her mane was back!

“Cynder. We’re not in the Dragon Realms anymore, are we?” Spyro asked, staring at the abomination in front of him.

“No, no we’re not,” she replied, her eyes locked on the same thing his were.

“Then where are we?” he asked, almost as if he was afraid of what her answer would be.

“You’re in Equestria!” Pinkie shouted giddily as she hopped out of the drawer. Spyro glanced at Cynder, who nodded in agreement.

“And we’re... In Equestria.... To get me... Help?” Spyro asked slowly, and he received another nod from Cynder.

“C’mon Pinkie. I think Spyro needs a little time to think this all through.” Cynder rose to her paws and headed to the door, Pinkie in tow. “Just yell if you need something Spyro. Other than alcohol.” She cut him off before he could even say ‘Bourbon’. And the door shut, and he was alone. He looked to the nearby window, which he had recently been slung at.

“I could always run away....” he said to himself, contemplating the idea...

Pink Lady

A Hero's Cocktail

By Melon Hunter & AnonMD1641(Z)

Chapter 2: Pink Lady

(1/2oz gin, 1 tsp grenadine, 1 tsp light cream, 1 egg white)

The sound of methodical pacing came from Twilight’s bedroom. To the regular observer, this was no big deal; the normal occupant was often up and about at unsocial hours, trotting around and around her room, pondering some mystery of the universe. However, the regular observer would also notice that the usual sound of trotting wasn’t there, having been replaced by a scaly-sounding padding instead.

Spyro had climbed out of the bed, and was now wandering in circles, trying to piece together the day’s events. So he’d somehow ended up in a place called Equestria, filled with ponies. That wasn’t so bad; the Dragon Realms were filled with portals to places that had all kinds of weird and wonderful inhabitants.

But how he’d made the transfer, he had no idea. There had been no portal, and yet Cynder had both been unfazed by appearing here, and seemed to know one of the inhabitants. Despite her previous reassurances, he couldn’t help but feel she knew far more than she was letting on.

Secondly, the inhabitants of this realm were quite clearly insane, or paranoid, or both. Of the two ponies he’d met, one had thoroughly violated the laws of time and space and fit in a drawer smaller than she was, and the other had tried to kill him at first sight. This did not bode well. He needed out.

As he carefully pried the boarding off the broken windows, Spyro felt a pang of guilt. He was about to run away from his best friend, his only friend, when she’d brought him here. On the other hand, if he stayed, he would be exposed to either an intervention party or that crazy unicorn again.

Shaking his head, he decided to at least take a look around the town before returning. Maybe there would be gin - gems - or perhaps tequila - talismans - or something to collect. At least he could get a better gauge of whether these ponies would party him to death or just ram him through the nearest wall.

Spyro spread his wings and glided down from the balcony, enjoying the feeling of the cool night air washing over him. He could get used to this sort of thing again. Taking a deep breath, he sighed blissfully and closed his eyes. This was relaxing... or at least it was, right up until he collided with a dark pink mass, knocking his head against the floor.

This is turning into a bad habit... he thought woozily.

It took a moment for Berry Punch, Ponyville’s resident drunkard, to process what had just happened to her, and why exactly there was a dragon trying to help her up. One moment she had been stumbling down the street, and the next? Pow! Something slammed into her and knocked her to the ground. She turned her head, woo, things were blurry, towards the dragon.

“‘Scuze me, but *Hic* di’ ya’ git tha’ cutie mark of the po’y who just *Hic* hit me?” the incredibly drunk pony asked, unsteadily rising to her hooves.

“What? No that was- Nope, didn’t see what it was. Sorry. Are you alright though?” Spyro lied, worried about what would happen if he was to make this one angry. She was a slightly darker color than that... Other pony, so if color was an indication of anything here, he should tread carefully.

“T’s a shame. I wou’da... wou’da... *Hic* You’re a dr’gon...” She squinted.

“You’re drunk,” Spyro countered.

“N’uh. Just a lil’ t’sy, s’all. M’ goin’ to *Hic* th’ bar ta g’t... W’as tha word?” she replied, putting a hoof to her chin.

“Hammered?” he suggested. Ok, so maybe everything here wasn’t so bad, it couldn’t be. They had alcohol.

“M’hm. That.” Berry nodded. “W’na *Hic* come?” she asked, motioning towards a plain looking building at the end of the road with a hoof.

“Yes,” came his very quick response. And with that, Berry stumbled down the street, Spyro in hot pursuit. As they entered the building, Spyro took in the interior, which was about as ordinary as most bars came. There were a few occupants, yet strangely none at the bar itself.

“Hey Berry! Who’s your friend?” came a cheery voice from behind the bar.

“Huh? Oh, t’is... Uh... W’as your name?” she asked, turning to Spyro.

“Oh, it’s Spyro,” came his delayed response, as he turned to face the bar.

“Well then Spyro, welcome to my humble establishment, The Busted Flank! I’m the owner and bartender, Dirty Martini,” the olive colored unicorn said with a slight bow. “What can I get for you two tonight?”

“I’ll h’ve tha’ us’al,” Berry announced as she took a seat on one of the bar stools.

“I’ll just have what she’s having.” Spyro nodded, simply eager for there to be liqueur in his system again.

“You sure? Big Mac’s Hard Cider ain’t anything to kid about,” Dirty warned as he began to pour a golden liquid into two mugs.

“Trust me, I can handle it.” Spyro waved a paw at him, before licking his scaled lips as the drinks were placed in front of them.

Deep within Sugarcube Corner, Cynder brooded over a muffin and a cup of coffee. Pinkie bustled away in the background, preparing herself for the next party - Spyro’s party. She was beginning to wonder whether bringing him here had been a brash move. Sure, he needed some sort of support, but was this really the best -

“-purple streamers, or orange?”

“Huh?” She looked up to see Pinkie stood over her, proffering the materials. “Oh, um, purple, I guess.”

“Okie dokie lokie!” Pinkie replied. She frowned slightly. “Hey, what’s up? Aren’t you happy to be here?”

“No, Pinkie. It’s good to see you again. Honestly. It’s just - well, a lot of things. I don’t think your friend left the best impression on him -”

“Oh, silly! Twilight’s just a little bit highly-strung! I’m sure everything’ll be fine! Just wait until he meets Spike - I’m sure they’ll get along like a house on fire!” Pinkie said happily.

“Spike? Who’s he?” Cynder asked.

“Twlight’s baby dragon assistant! I bet he’d love to talk to Spyro and learn all about his ker-azy adventures!”

“I suppose you’re right,” Cynder said with a small smile. “Where are they, anyway?”

“Well, Twilight’s decided to sleep on her sofa for the time being, and Spike is staying over at Rarity’s for some reason.” Pinkie frowned and put a hoof to her chin. “What would they be doing?”

“Rarity? She another one of your friends?”

“Oooh! Yeah, I’ll have to introduce you! And Applejack, and Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy - although she’s a bit scared of dragons, nothing personal - and Big Mac and Cheerilee and Lyra and Bon Bon and...” Cynder waited politely for about twenty minutes as Pinkie rattled off the names of every inhabitant of Ponyville. This would be one doozy of a party.

“We probably shouldn’t swamp him, Pinkie. I think it’s enough of a shock to him to just end up in another realm without going through a portal first. Maybe we should make his welcome party a low-key affair,” she said gently.

“You mean only a four-tier cake?” Pinkie gasped.

“...yeah. Maybe even three,” Cynder chuckled. “Anyway, we should probably check on him and say good night. He may be an idiot, but he’s still my friend.”

“OK then!” They set out into the night, Pinkie merrily bouncing alongside Cynder. She felt a slight sense of foreboding as they entered the library. It had only been a couple of hours; surely nothing bad could have happened in that time, could it? Her questions were answered as they entered Twilight’s room - the bed empty, the window open.

“That little-” Cynder’s claws dug into the wooden floor. She screeched and let out a frustrated roar, a shadowy substance blasting out of her mouth. She heard a slight whimper behind her, and turned, tail lashing, to see Pinkie cowering in the corner of the room. Oh no... She hadn’t felt that darkness since... since...

“C-C-Cynder?” Pinkie stammered. Immediately, she felt her heart soften.

“Pinkie... I-I’m sorry. I... had a lot bottled up inside me. It won’t happen again,” she said quietly, staring at the floor. She was about to turn away when she felt a pair of forelegs wrap around her neck in a friendly hug.

“It’s OK. I think there might be two dragons in Equestria who need a party,” Pinkie giggled. “Now let’s find your lost friend!”

“Where would he go at this time of night, though?” Cynder asked as they walked out onto the balcony.

“Well, there’s the new branch of Pony Joe’s Doughnut Emporium that’s just opened, or maybe the outdoor cinema, or... oh! The Busted Flank!”

“The Busted What-now?”

“It’s Ponyville’s number one bar! Well, it’s Ponyville’s only bar, so everypony goes there if they want a good time...” Cynder gripped the pink pony’s shoulders with her paws.

“Pinkie. Where?!” she asked desperately.

“Oh, right down there! You can’t miss it!” Pinkie exclaimed, pointing at a neon-clad building in a direct line of sight from the balcony. Cynder blanched, and spread her wings.

“We have to stop him,” she said desperately.

Twilight was sitting in her study, completely unaware of the dragon she had knocked unconscious escaping, looking over an incredibly long list of notes she had written out.

“So... Two dragons from a different universe... Involved with Pinkie... One of them needs help with a drinking problem...” The purple unicorn began to list through several things, drawing numerous diagrams to match each topic.

“So maybe.... She ca-” Twilight was cut off as a roar echoed through the entire tree-structure.

“That came from upstairs!” she exclaimed, rushing out of her study and galloping towards the stairs. Once at the top of the steps, she peered into the room where one of Pinkie’s ‘friends’ had been sleeping. She watched as the dragon, Cynder she remembered, and Pinkie stepped out onto the balcony.

“We have to stop him,” the dragon said, her wings spreading wide.

“Stop who?” Twilight asked, stepping into the room and walking towards the balcony. “And what exactly is going on here? What was that roar?”

“Spyro... He... He ran away. We have to stop him before he hurts himself. And that roar was uh...” Cynder stopped, not exactly sure how to explain herself.

“Cynder here just has a lot on her plate,” Pinkie explained.

“Oh, but you can’t leave now! I have so many questions for you!” Twilight exclaimed, a magical force field appearing around the dragon and lifting her into the air.

“B-But what about Spy-” Cynder began, only to be cut off by the lavender unicorn.

“I’m sure Pinkie can go get him! Don’t worry, it’s just a few questions!” She began to levitate the dragon towards the door. Cynder shot a desperate look back into the room at Pinkie, who then said some of the most terrifying words she had ever heard.

“Don’t worry Cynder! You can count on me!” The pink pony waved, and then jumped out the nearest window, which thankfully was the same one Spyro had gone out.

“A dragon, huh? We don’t see many of those around here. At least, not ones so civilised!” Spyro gulped, and nodded politely at the mulberry pony. At least she isn’t a unicorn, he thought thankfully. “Not much of a talker, eh?” He shook his head. The pony looked disappointed. “Well, I’ll be over here if you wanna chat, or something.” She walked away to a nearby table.

Spyro let out a sigh of relief. He’d been in here for over an hour now, in a state of perpetual terror. Upon reaching the bar, he’d made the unwelcome discovery that he had none of the local currency on him, and so was entirely dependant on the generosity of Berry Punch. The pony occasionally sent drinks his way, but he’d only made his way to a second mug of cider, a far cry from the forest of glasses in front of his drinking partner.

He felt the familiar compulsion tugging at him, urging him onwards. However, he knew that giving in and raiding the bar was tantamount to suicide. One unicorn could knock him unconscious. A bar full of them would leave him as nothing more than a smear on the floorboards.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. You new here?” Another unicorn had sidled up to him, this one mint green, with a harp tattooed on her flank. Seriously, what is it with these ponies and having these tattoos? Some sort of a rite of passage? Will I need one? His head snapped up as he realised he was staring a little too intently at the picture, earning him a reproachful glare.

“I guess you could say that,” he offered.

“One of Spike’s relatives, I guess?” she asked, gazing at his scales.

“Who? Uh, no. I’m nobody,” he said quickly.

“Really? Two purple dragons in the same town? I’m surprised,” she said. “He’s the librarian’s assistant.”

Library? “Wait - you mean the library that’s carved out of a tree, right? The one with the psychopathic unicorn?” he exclaimed. “She threw me through a window!”

“Woah! Not too loud! Who knows if the next Gabby Gums is listening...” the unicorn said, casting her eyes about the room. “Anyway, where are my manners? The name’s Lyra.” She held out a foreleg.

“Spyro.” He gingerly extended his own foreleg and shook the proffered hoof. As his paw gripped it, he heard a small squee from the unicorn.

“Sorry! It’s just - hands. They’re awesome,” she said appreciatively, sipping her own drink, which was held in a turquoise glow matching the one around her horn.

“But you - the glass - it - levitation - magic?” Spyro stuttered, trying and failing to string together a coherent sentence.

“Eh, it’s nothing special,” Lyra said dismissively. “Opposable thumbs on the other hoof...”

“Well that’s, uh, really great. I’ll, um, leave you to it,” he said nervously.

“I figured you could use somepony to talk to, at least. You look awful lonely up here,”

“Actually, I’m with her.” Spyro pointed to Berry Punch, who by this point had resorted to drinking the abandoned dregs of other bar-goers.

“Oooh, unlucky,” Lyra chuckled. “Hey, Berry! Berry!” The dark pink pony turned her head slowly. “You forgetting someone?”

“Wsst? Oh’m, s’rry. Outta b’ts,” she slurred.

Lyra rolled her eyes, and beckoned to another pony in the corner, this one beige with a curly blue and pink mane. “Hey, Martini? Got any of that Skylander vodka left?” she said, addressing the stallion.

“A few bottles. Why?” the bartender said tenuously.

“Bring ‘em out. I think we need a little celebration for our new friend here.”

“Wait, did you say a few bottles of vodka -” Spyro began.

“Y’mean a toast?” Berry mumbled.

Lyra’s golden eyes glinted, sending a fresh jolt of terror through the dragon. “Yeah, toast.”

Pinkie bounced down the quiet street of Ponyville, towards the Busted Flank, a grin plastered on her face. Something to the side of the lane caught her eye. It was the new Pony Joe’s Doughnut Emporium. She stopped bouncing, and stared at the structure. She hadn’t been able to visit the fine establishment yet, due to her schedule being filled with, you guessed it, parties.

Maybe just a quick peek... No! I told Cynder... Really though, how could it be possible for someone to get hurt in Ponyville, it’s like, the best place ever! But still... The pink pony was at war with her cravings for doughnuts.

Well... She didn’t say when I had to be back... And what harm could a few drinks be to a tough ol’ dragon like Spyro? She grinned. She would get the dragon away from the bar, yessiree, but she was sure it could wait a little while. She trotted towards the entrance and opened the door with a hoof, a gentle ring accompanying the action.

And then... She was in heaven. She took in a whiff of the delectable scents the freshly made doughnuts were sending off. As a sweets maker herself, she could fully enjoy the taste that wafted through the air, of sugar glaze and chocolate syrup.

“Oh may I help you tod- Oh! Hey there Pinkie Pie!” The light brown mare grinned from behind the glass casing that held the objects that the pink pony craved.

“Hi there Extra Sprinkles! I just came in to get some doughnuts. I haven’t been in here since this place opened, and I had a little free time ,so here I am!” Pinkie trotted towards the case and her eyes grew wide as she looked inside of it.

“Wooow-we, how many kinds do you have?” she asked, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth.

“Well, we have everypony’s favorites, like glazed and chocolate coated, but we also have jelly filled, coconut, apricot, vanilla cream, cardamon syrup...” Extra listed out, pointing to a different doughnut with each name she said. All the while Pinkie’s eyes grew in size.

“So, what kind would you like?” Extra Sprinkles finished finally, looking back up at Pinkie.

Pinkie slowly lifted her gaze from the doughnuts to Extra, her tongue still hanging out of her mouth. “Five of every kind,” she said, pulling a small back of bits out of thin air.

“Gahhh... bl-blasted dragons...” The sensation of rough rock rubbing against his face made him raise his head from the floor. The darkness around him could only mean one thing; defeat.

However, the fact he was aware of it at all also meant he was alive. That was far preferable to obliteration. So he’d cheated death twice. He got the feeling this was his very last chance.

He put those thoughts to one side, grasping around for some clues as to what had actually happened. His paw happened upon a thin rod on the ground - his sceptre! Perhaps things aren't so bad after all. Picking it up, he cast a small spell to light the space he was in. A sickly red light guttered out of the ruby on his sceptre, illuminating a vast cavern, with no way in or out visible.

An hour of searching was fruitless. He had only found one possible exit, and that was sealed, both with rock and with magic. He toyed with the idea of blasting away at the stone, but the feeling of a - no, two - background presences stayed his hand. They were without a doubt the most powerful magic users he’d ever encountered, able as he was to detect their presence at this range. Drawing unwanted attention to himself would not end well.

“Ugh... what kind of ending is this? I, the great Ripto, deserved better than this!”

“Oh really? Do tell me more; I’ve been deprived of a good story recently,” a sibilant voice said. The only occupant of the cave spun around and around.

“Who’s there?! Show yourself, you coward!” Ripto exclaimed.

“Getting scared, are we? I’d have thought such a great and powerful magician wouldn’t be so easily intimidated by a voice in a cave,” the voice chuckled, a sarcastic tone entering its words.

“I’m not scared!” Ripto retorted.

“No? I’ll take your word for it, then. I see at least you had the sense not to break the seal on the cave. That would have been a rather messy situation. Why not come closer? It’s been awhile since I had a visitor.” A dim pink light appeared a little way into the cave. Ripto hesitated for a moment, then scurried towards the light. If it was some hideous monster he couldn’t fend off luring him to his death, at least that’d be preferable to starvation.

As he neared the light, he found it was hovering above a bizarre statue. It was a creature seemingly formed from the parts of other animals, its goat’s head frozen in an expression of sheer terror. Ripto rounded the statue, not quite understanding.

“Alright, I’m here. Now where are you?” he asked curtly.

“I’m right above you. No, here. No...” The voice sighed. “The statue you have been walking around for the last minute.”

“Wait... how? Are you enchanted?” Ripto breathed.

“Petrified, more like,” it said morosely.

“But you’re still speaking! And conscious! It... it doesn’t make sense!” he gasped.

“Oh, my dear Ripto,” it crooned. To the magician, it seemed as if the temperature of the cave had dropped twenty degrees. “What fun is there in making sense?”