My Little Pony: Quest for the Holy Grail

During all this time, Don Bernardo had been unconscious and hospitalised in the Bolivian General Hospital in Santa Cruz della Serra. Huascar had been keeping vigil by his father’s bed in the intensive care unit.

“We’ve done our best,” the doctor had told Huascar. “Your papa is temporarily out of danger. But we’re not sure when he’ll come to. Maybe pretty soon, maybe never. Keep talking to him. It might help wake him.”

Having fasted for so long, it was that night that Huascar decided the time had come for him to eat. Rising to his feet, he telephoned the nurse on duty to say that he’d be going out for a meal and a smoke and would be back soon. The nurse approved.

Huascar stepped out of the hospital and made his way to the nearest hawker centre. Suddenly, a group of at least four or five masked men wearing gloves and balaclavas jumped on Huascar, yelling profanities of every sort. Huascar put up a fierce resistance in spite of his physical weakness, but one of the men had a gun and fired it at Huascar. It hit him in the left funny-bone, stunning him completely and knocking him unconscious.

“Take him away!” ordered one of the men. “The boss will be pleased!"

* * *

Alberto lay unconscious on the floor before the Twelve Ponies. “That’s it,” sighed Snips. “Now what? Nuzzle him awake?”

“He’s UNCONSCIOUS, not asleep, stupid!” Snails gave Snips a poke with his horn.

“I suggest,” said Big McIntosh, “that we carry on and find the Holy Grail. I’ll take charge of the entire group until Alberto comes to. Shining Armour, could you help to take care of Alberto and his sword?”

“Gladly,” said Shining Armour, as Snips and Snails slowly lifted Alberto’s unconscious body onto his back. “I’ll try to resuscitate him as soon as we get out of here. But first things first.”

“Let’s see,” said Derpy; “we already have this….. jar here, and we need it to contain the acid before we can break that lock.”

“I’m no chemist,” said Braeburn, “but I’ll take that and use it.”

He took the jar in his forehooves and carefully scooped up some acid.

“Now let’s get the fuck out of here!” cried Big McIntosh.

The party was just exiting the kitchen and about to turn to the door to the cistern when…. “GROWWRRRR!!!”

“Quick, cuz, throw the fucking acid onto the door!!” yelled Big McIntosh.

“YAAAAHH!!!!” cried Braeburn, as he flung the jar of acid onto the Cistern door. The lock cracked.

“Now run and don’t look back!” yelled Big McIntosh, as he ran ahead of the group.

The Twelve ponies ran through the door to the cistern. Snips was about to turn and look at the Grunt that was chasing them, and he almost got killed by the Grunt — if not for Snails who dragged him out of the way just in time…..

* * *

It was in this time that Benedicto Guzmán and Jovento Bajarán were opening up the ballroom in the Radisson de la Paz for the Università di Canterlot in La Paz in Bolivia. A troupe of Minions arrived with their Satan mask and percussions. Some of the sponsors had also turned up.

“The Minions and some sponsors are here at last,” said Bajarán, eagerly. “Where are Sean and Dario? Did they not say they’d be back by this time?”

“From what I see in Sean’s last email, he did say that he and Dario were estimated to touch down at 7am on June 21st, which was two hours ago this morning,” said Guzmán at once. “Not sure how we’re gonna handle this on our own, but we have to manage."

“Er, sorry to interrupt,” said one of the sponsors, “but you guys are in charge here, are you not?”

“We are indeed,” said Guzmán. “I’m the General Manager in these parts, my name’s Benedicto, but you can call me Benz. You guys can go in and set up your stalls now. As for the Minions, it’s best to start making your joyful noise now. Let the people come in one by one.”

When the Minions began their football cheering, and the stallholders began setting up their stalls, Guzmán and Bajarán went outside to talk.

“It’s not like them to be so unusually late,” said Bajarán. “It’s really amazing that we’ve got no news from them. I’ve tried calling both of them on their mobiles; both phones appear to be off. ‘The Singtel mobile customer you’re calling is not available, your number will be sent via SMS to the customer. Goodbye.’ Por l’amor della Santa Madre de Dios!”

Guzmán shrugged, knowing he had to maintain the professional stance; but inside him he too was beginning to tear apart. It was then that some of the other top directors of Sparkle Enterprises arrived, including Alvin Simoneau, Sevastiano Ilyich Yefremov, and Emmanuele d’Arcangelo. And Arcangelo was dragging behind him, bound and gagged and looking very cross and trying desperately but in vain to free himself, Huascar León.

“Buenos dias, Benz. Mission accomplished. We finally got him,” said Yefremov.

“Bueno, è buon fatto!” said Guzmán, rubbing his hands in glee. “Now go in and join the fun! And make sure you take care of the Inca Prince well! Garcia won’t stand a chance against us; he and his furry friends are a whole ocean away in Siberia!”

“Rest assured we will, Benz!” said Simoneau. “We sure will!”

“One question though,” said Arcangelo; “where’s Sean and Dario?”

“Just go in!” ordered Bajarán. “They’ll be here soon!”

After the lot of Sparkle Enterprises directors went inside, taking their prisoner with them, Bajarán turned to Guzmán. “So,” he said. “What about Sean and Dario?”

But before Guzmán could answer, suddenly there was a phonecall on his mobile, from a private number. “Scusa. Il telefono,” said Guzmán. He picked up his mobile to answer the call.

“Ciao, mi chiamo Benz, come vi posso aiutar? ….. Si, I am his subordinate….. COSA!?!”

The look of shock on Guzmán’s face told Bajarán more than a thousand words: more likely than not, Sean Brink and Dario Perez had met with a tragedy of some sort…..

* * *

Inside a small backstage room in the convention hall, Huascar, still bound and gagged, was lying prostrate on a bench, bruised and battered severely.

“You are a very bold fighter, noble Don Huascar,” newcomer purchasing director, Irish-Chilean Beniamino Deakins, mocked him. “You were certainly very well prepared, enough to put up a very brave resistance against us when we ambushed you just now at the hospital. Trust you to not continue keeping vigil while your father is still unconscious! But now you will have some answering to do. I will ungag you so you can talk. Come in, Natanaele.”

Natanaele “Gleek” Duarte walked in with a gun in his hand, and a few Minions behind him, all armed with guns. They aimed at Huascar. Deakins carefully undid Huascar’s gagging.

“Now you better watch what you say and how you answer me,” said Deakins, “for if you say anything untoward or interrupt me when I talk, you can say buenas noches.”

Duarte nodded to the Minions, who returned the nod gesture. Huascar, petrified, kept silent.

“Now answer me,” said Deakins. “Why did you pretend to die as Garcia’s amigo, rather than admit your fault and live on as our stalwart ally?”

Huascar growled in his teeth. Duarte pressed his gun barrel on Huascar’s head.

“ANSWER ME!” Deakins bashed Huascar up hard. “Why did you pretend to die as Garcia’s amigo, rather than admit your fault and live on as our stalwart ally?”

Bleeding from his gums due to the impact of Deakins’s punch, Huascar took a deep breath. “I never knew you,” he growled, essentially telling the truth. “I don’t even know your fucking name. And I don’t know who you are to Garcia. Now if you will kindly let me go. I need to keep vigil by Papa."

Duarte nudged Deakins. “Beniamino,” he whispered, “the asshole has a point. He doesn’t know who you are. Let me take over. You take my gun and hold it at him.”

So Deakins switched places with Duarte. Deakins, wielding the gun, aimed it at Huascar’s temple and pulled the lever. Duarte picked up a nearby barrel of kerosene. Huascar seethed.

“We needed talented people like you to help our pony convention out,” Duarte said, calmly but decisively. “Did the water go inside your mobile phone or something? We called you so many times but you didn’t reply. Huascar, you are the one who had all the brainy ideas. You can draw, you can drum, you can game, you can cosplay, you can do so many things. WHY THEN did you choose to give your time and talents to a bloody motherfucking racist and political dissident who does nothing but use the ponies, OUR waifus by right, for his harem?! And how can you say that the land of Equestria is real when like the whole world knows that it is obviously fictitious, tell me — have you become fricking loco or what?!!”

“It is not a harem and it is not fictitious,” said Huascar, determinedly. “It is a real place where ponies and humans can dwell and ride together in peace. The only reason you don’t believe in it is because you are of this world. But I am not of this world. And neither is Garcia.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!” Duarte whacked Huascar so hard that the latter’s bleeding got worse. Then he turned back to Beniamino and the Minions. “You all heard that! Loud and clear!” he yelled. “What say you?”

“He’s completely loco in the cabeza!” said Deakins.

“No, he isn’t!” came a voice from outside. Everyone turned and saw Benedicto Guzmán walking into the room.

“Com'è?” Guzmán asked Deakins and Duarte.

“Non vuole parlar, Benz,” said Duarte.

“Bueno. Natanaele, vai fuori. Deakins, vai fuori. Minions, stay here and don’t ever drop your guns,” ordered Guzmán. “I’ll handle this.”

Huascar bared his teeth. Guzmán pointed the gun at him.

“So you refused to talk,” he said. “Now listen to me, and listen carefully. By rights you should have been killed by now. But I am the General Manager in these parts, and I am kind enough, as kind as Fluttershy would have been, to give you grace to live on and reconsider your actions. I will now get these Minions to escort you over to what will be your new home for the next — goodness knows, depending on how long you take to confess. Remember, any resistance and you are dead. Andiamo.”

Completely overcome, Huascar passed out again...

* * *

Huascar’s last conscious thought was that of seeing Guzmán’s sneering face before he passed out. When he came to, he found himself in a huge cell in what seemed to be a very smelly underground dungeon. All he had was just a bed, a lavatory, and his clothes.

“I just don’t believe this,” he said to himself in soliloquy, rubbing his wounds. “I was away for Mama’s funeral only and never expected so much to happen. Papa passing out at Mama’s cremation. Me being captured by these assholes again and made to choose bizarrely between either Alberto Garcia and death with him, or them and life with them. And, best part of it all, I’m supposed to be back home in Equestria by this time. Why, did I not promise Garcia that I’d be back? No way; I need to get out of here whether I like it or not! Even if I must die, I must at least let Garcia see my face for one last time!

Ah! tout est bien fini.

Mon beau rêve de gloire,

mes rêves de bonheur

s'envolent à jamais!

Tu m'as pris mon amour,

tu me prends la victoire,

Seigneur, je me soumets!

O souverain, ô juge, ô père,

toujours voilé, présent toujours,

je t'adorais au temps prospère,

et te bénis aux sombres jour.

Je vais où ta loi me réclame,

libre de tous regrets humains.

O souverain, ô juge, ô père,

ta seule image est dans mon âme

que je remets entre tes mains.

O firmament azur, lumière,

esprits d'en haut, penchés sur moi,

c'est le soldat que désespère,

mais le chrétien garde sa foi.

Tu peux venir, tu peux paraître,

aurore du jour éternel.

O souverain, ô juge, ô père!

Le serviteur d'un juste maître

répond sans crainte à ton appel.

O souverain, ô juge, ô père!

Thus Huascar softly sang and prayed as he sat alone in the darkness. As he finished the last note, he felt a rumbling on the ground and he thought he saw the cell door tremble and shake. A letter fell inside. He immediately picked it up and read it:

Do not fear, Huascar di Bernardo di Atahualpa; rather, rejoice greatly, for you have been persecuted for our sake and for the sake of the magic of friendship! And hence, great shall your reward be when you make it back to Equestria!

You may well be in a cell now, but I have just unlocked the door for you. Don’t be afraid of those dogs if they dare to find you out; you do not have to answer them if they demand anything from you. You won’t have to go through any more agony. You won’t die. All you will need to do is get yourself up, pick up your strength, and get out of the cell. From there, I have set the stage for you to return safely to Equestria. You will be home alive. And so will your friend Alberto, who is currently being guided by my pupil Twilight. Just follow my clues and you can’t go wrong.

Sincerely,

Princess Celestia

“Ah!” said Huascar. “That piece of news redoubles my strength!”

Forgetting that he was already bleeding very badly, Huascar León rose to his feet and opened his cell door successfully. He kept the note from Princess Celestia in his pocket, and slowly made his way out into the corridor of cells.

Inside this corridor were a few cells. He knew he had to survive this. None of the other cells were in use, it seemed. There was an exit door in the middle. He had to take it, but it seemed locked.

Taking a rod nearby, Huascar bashed down that door successfully and ran through the open hallway…..

* * *

Meanwhile, the Twelve had found their way successfully into the Cistern Entrance, a huge and luminous round tower with a domed glass ceiling. There were four doors here; three above-ground doors and one door at the bottom of a down-leading stairwell.

“We’ve got to find out what to do here,” remarked Flash Sentry. “This area may be safe, but I suspect there’s a lot of puzzles to solve.”

“First things first,” said Big McIntosh; “let’s wake up our key puzzle solver.”

Snips and Snails helped to lay the still-unconscious Alberto on the ground. The Twelve used their combined nuzzles to nuzzle Alberto awake, successfully.

“What… happened?” gasped Alberto.

“You passed out earlier on, you were badly wounded,” said Big McIntosh. “So we successfully brought you out of the cells into the Cistern Entrance, which is here.”

“OK,” said Alberto. “It seems like the doors are clearly labelled here. This one’s called ‘MORGUE’; this one down here, ‘CONTROL ROOM’; and this one, “CISTERN’.”

“And the one down there looks like it’s labelled ‘SEWERS’,” said Rainbow Dash, who had gone down with Derpy to check the door that was at the bottom of the down-leading stairwell.

“Our aim was to get into the Cistern, was it not?” Big McIntosh nudged Shining Armour.

“I’ve no idea at all,” said Shining Armour at once; “my sister just said we get out of the prisons into the cistern. Not sure what exactly she meant.”

“I suggest we try the doors one by one,” said Braeburn. “They might not all be open simultaneously, like before.”

Big McIntosh was getting increasingly frustrated by his cousin’s perpetual disagreements with him. “You so clever is it? Then show me your pattern!” he neighed.

“Sure!” said Braeburn. He cantered up to each door in turn, while everypony else watched in amazement. It was discovered that all the doors were as open as could be, except for the sewer door.

“There? You see? What did I tell you?” Big McIntosh scoffed at Braeburn.

“Andiamo, cavallini, siamo finiti con giocando!” Alberto urged everypony on. “Since Princess Twilight Sparkle told us we need to get to the cistern, let’s go in there first!”

The cistern was a large drainage area. It looked somewhat like a huge, reverberant indoor underground canal. The footpath from the entrance door lined the canal up. On the other side of the canal was another footpath, and there were a LOT of vents, pipes, and valves scattered around the walls on that other side. Some of the vents would shoot out smelly, stinky air every few seconds that would cause anypony who came too close to inhale that air to be turned to stone. On the same side of the canal as our friends were, there were a couple of wooden planks.

“Looks like we gotta expect another Kaernk here, mateys!” said Applejack.

“First things first,” said Big McIntosh. “We’ve got to find the clues inside here. There’s a piece of paper on the ground.”

“It’s not a parchment,” said Alberto, picking it up. “Let me read it:

Juni 19, 2038 / 1800 Uhr / Schneiens

Himmel! After about six hours of non-stop working, I’ve FINALLY managed to deviate the water flow in the right direction! Those three valves were the toughest parts!

Do it I had to. No other choice. The Holy Grail vault and Inner Sanctum would not have been secured otherwise. Now the only way to open its doors up is to either have the access card, which presently only I and Cheese Sandwich have; or to find the pieces of that ScheißenOrb, which was all but broken yesterday thanks to Griflet and Bedevere throwing tantrums. Actually I should be grateful to Griflet and Bedevere; unknown to them, they were actually doing me a big favour. Either way, they’re bound in shackles now and are destined for Università di Canterlot tomorrow at midnight.

M.V.

“Dead giveaway again!” remarked Snips.

“No, not this time. In fact I think it’s getting more complicated,” said Derpy. “Even for once I am stumped. Anypony have an idea? You, Alberto?”

“The water flow has been deviated,” said Alberto, “in such a way that it would secure the Holy Grail in its vault. The way to unlock the vault is for me quite straightforward: to deviate the water back to what it was before Michael’s intervention. And to do so we must find the correct valve, or valves, to turn!”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself, Don Alberto. Are you sure you can manage?” asked Thunderlane, concerned.

“Let me show you!” said Alberto. “Andiamo!" He took one foot into the water. Suddenly, splashes were seen and growling was heard!!

“Caramba! Another Kaernk!!” cried Alberto, jumping back onto land just in time.

“So! I was right after all!” said Applejack. “We’re gonna have to really put our manes together for this one!”

“Not often that I suggest anything,” said Rainbow Dash, “but we could fly over, could we not?”

“Not a good idea, Dash love,” said Dumbbell. “We’ve got a mission to complete by today come hell or high water. Hence we’ve got no time to waste any energy. Flying takes up more energy than walking or cantering. Especially if we have to carry.”

“Good point,” sighed Rainbow Dash. “So now we have to figure a way to get past that Kaernk.”

“I suggest,” said Dumbbell, “that we try using these wood planks here and putting them in stepping stone form. Also, not all of us should go, for space constraint reasons."

“I volunteer to go,” said Big McIntosh.

“And me too!” piped up Applejack.

“I’ll join my cousins!” added Braeburn. “So it’s the three of us on this!"

“Careful amigos!” said Alberto. “And make it un po’ più veloce por favor! We’re counting on you!"

It took the three Apple ponies only a little over five minutes to lay the planks correctly, but to everypony it seemed years long. They slowly and carefully crossed over the planks to the other side.

“Now,” said Applejack, “let’s see which valves need to be turned! Be careful of those vents; they shoot out stinky air every few seconds; we all don’t want to be turned to stone!”

“My guess,” said Big McIntosh, “is that the valves that need to be turned, are those three identical valves that are differently coloured from the rest. You realise” — he indicated out the three identical valves with his left forehoof — “that these three you see here, here, and here, have a somewhat different — more khaki — hue from the others, and just screaming to be turned?”

“It’s so dark here. Cousin Mac, I’m amazed that you can see!” gasped Braeburn.

Suddenly, the vents started shooting out the smelly stinky air!!!

“Careful!” shouted Alberto, from behind.

“Quick! Duck for it!” cried Applejack.

“You gotta wait another about 3…. 2….. 1….. NOW!” shouted Big McIntosh.

“Let’s do it quickly!” yelled Applejack. “Run as quickly as you can! Be careful not to fall into the water!

My boot scootin’ baby is drivin’ me crazy,

My obsession for the wisdom, my dance floor daze;

My rodeo romeo, a cowboy god from head to toe;

Wanna make you mine, better get in line, 5-6-7-8!

Left valve and right valve! Now shake that mane and shake your bon bon!

Let’s get the water flowin’ right away!

Shake them forehooves, buck them hind hooves, take your deepest breath!

Find that old Holy Grail is what we’re gonna do!

My boot scootin’ baby is drivin’ me crazy,

My obsession for the wisdom, my dance floor daze;

My rodeo romeo, a cowboy god from head to toe;

Wanna make you mine, better get in line, 5-6-7-8!

MMMBop ba du ba da ba du bop, ba du ba da ba du bop, ba du ba da ba du, yeah yeah!

MMMBop ba du ba da ba du bop, ba du ba da ba du bop, ba du ba da ba du, yeah yeah!

And so singing, the three Apple ponies got the valves turned successfully. The water could be seen flowing in the right direction. The splashes from the Kaernk could also be seen getting further and further away, as could the wooden planks.

“Now run back across the water as fast as you can!” shouted Applejack.

“But the planks, sis!” cried Big McIntosh.

“No time for the planks! Just fucking RUN!!” yelled Applejack.

The three Apple ponies ran as quickly as they could across the canal back to the other side where the others were waiting them.

“Phewph! I need to catch me breath mateys!” gasped Braeburn.

“Good job guys, the water flow is finally back in business,” said Soarin.

“Now we’ve got to get back out and see where to go next!” said Flash Sentry.

“Follow me,” said Alberto.

And so the Twelve ponies and their human leader left the Cistern and headed back out to the Cistern entrance….