Stupid Ways To Get Fragged
Sometimes They Come Back To Annoy You
The Cutie Mark Crusaders were sitting around the campfire with Big Mac, toasting marshmallows. Apple Bloom was trying to enjoy the company of her friends, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, but she couldn’t fake having fun as easily as she could fake Applejack’s enthusiasm for apples.
She missed her big sister. Apple Bloom sighed. How could apple-bucking be so dangerous as to . . .
“Hey, Apple Bloom?” asked Sweetie Belle.
She turned to him. “Yeah?”
“Your marshmallow’s a clump of ash. Heart’s just not in this camping trip, huh?”
The filly tossed her stick into the fire and shook her head. “Ah’m glad you’re here. It hasn’t been easy for any of us. Scoots? Are you still gettin’ any more . . . late night visits?”
Scootaloo could only nod, her ears flat. “Yeah. My parents are going nuts trying to figure out what to do.”
Sweetie Belle said, “My parents are going to take me back home tomorrow.”
Scootaloo pulled her half-melted marshmallow off the tip of her stick with her teeth. “I hope you feel better soon, AB.”
Sweetie Belle inquired, “AB?”
“Sure! Applejack liked being called AJ, right? Well, now that she’s . . .”
“AHEM!” coughed Big Mac.
Suddenly a frighteningly familiar voice chimed up behind them. “Aww, look at all the saddy-waddy fillies!”
Apple Bloom and Big Mac slowly turned their heads to increase the drama and to see if they really did hear Pinkie Pie say what she said.
Much to their chagrin, they did.
There she was, placing her pink, bubbly, bouncy self in the center of everyone’s attention.
The problem was, the center of attention was also where the fire roared. That didn’t bother Pinkie Pie, however, as she was now incapable of being set ablaze.
After all, ghosts don’t burn. Her semi-translucent body didn’t even have rear legs, just a pink cotton-candy-strand wisp.
Pinkie surveyed the terrain of wide-eyed horror and clopped her spectral hooves together, the resulting ectoplasm-splatter sizzling in the fire. “Heeyy! You know what this calls for?”
Scootaloo replied in a quivering whimper, “An exorcist?”
Pinkie flashed a grin as big as a snow shovel. She waved her legs in the air, and pink streamers shot out of her hooves. Since they were conjured from what one assumed was the eldritch realm of icy death, they splattered to the ground like over cooked pasta as they were coated in phantasm-goop.
“Nope!” she cheered. “A party!”
Rising as one, all four ponies then began to slowly bunch together, all eyes glued to the fire-lit spectacle.
Pinkie giggled. “I know you guys missed me after my little . . . accident, so let’s join hooves and chase those blues away with the most appropriate song I know for this occasion!” She took a deep breath and began to sing. “Giggle at this ghostie, I’m the ghostie with the mosty, I’m not really burning roasty-toasty . . .”
“That’s it!” screamed Apple Bloom. “Ah’m outta here! Let’s go before she makes us dance in a conga line!”
Before Pinkie had a chance to point out that she didn’t have enough legs to dance with, the four ponies disappeared in a cloud of dust.
When she realized that she was alone, Pinkie let her lower lip poke out in an adorable pout. She then said the only thing a wayward, suddenly lonely ghost would say against a sad, cold, unyielding and uncaring world.
“Well, poop.”
* * *
After what felt like several one-minute miles were jogged, the four ponies stopped for a breather near Sweet Apple Acres.
Scootaloo shook her head and said, “How could Pinkie not know how scary she was?”
“Well, she always had a few toys in her attic,” commented Sweetie Belle. “Maybe being dead doesn’t change people that much.”
Apple Bloom nodded. “Granny Smith told me that sometimes the dead don’t wanna leave. Somethin’ is keepin’ Pinkie here, Ah betcha.”
“Like what?” asked Scootaloo.
Before Apple Bloom could answer, the four ponies heard a splattering sound from a nearby tree. Taking refuge behind a quietly terrified Big Mac, they all clustered together as they slowly approached the odd noise.
A voice drifted from behind the tree. “Can’t figure this out. Why ain’t these apples droppin’?”
When the ponies walked around the tree, they stopped. Too stunned to move, they could only gawp at the sight of Applejack trying to apple-buck a tree without the benefit of rear legs.
Applejack turned to her audience. “Big Mac! Why ain’t these trees harvested? I swear, no one’s takin’ care of this farm anymore! On top of that, Ah swear this tree’s leakin’ honey or somethin’.”
Apple Bloom’s voice cracked as she said, “Applejack, nothin’s wrong with that tree. But there’s somethin’ wrong with you.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Well, mah back’s a bit sore, but apart from that, Ah’m fine.”
Big Mac was a pony of few words, so he walked up to Applejack and pointed at Applejack’s torso.
She looked down and stared at her transparent body, which, like Pinkie’s ghost, lacked proper apple-bucking rear legs. There was also a large ghostly tree branch mashed into her upper back.
“Oh, horseapples.”
* * *
Sweetie Belle flicked on the light in her bedroom. Scootaloo walked past her, admiring the clothes Rarity had made for her sister over the years. Why that fashionista made Sweetie Belle a taco costume, she’ll never know.
“Thanks for staying with me tonight, Scoots. I don’t want my last night here to be lonely.”
Scootaloo shrugged. “Hey, we’re all feeling the blues. Last night I told Rainbow Dash some stuff I wish I hadn’t.”
“At least you got to talk to her. I haven’t . . .” Sweetie Belle raised her nose, casting around for a second whiff. “Do you smell smoke?”
“Yeah!” Scootaloo gasped. “Did you leave something on the stove?”
Sweetie Belle followed the grey smoke trail out of her bedroom. “No, it’s not coming from the kitchen.” She pointed a hoof at a nearby closed door. “It’s coming from her room.”
Scootaloo saw the light on in Rarity’s creation room. “Uh, Sweetie Belle? Are you sure you want to go in there?”
She nodded. “I have to know what that smell is, Scootaloo. I don’t want this place to burn down, right?”
The two fillies stood in front of the door, trembling in a swirling mixture of excitement and fear.
Sweetie opened the door and a ball of smoke swirled over their heads. A thunder-head of grey clouds smothered the ceiling.
“Stupid blasted contraption!” groused Rarity as she fussed with her smoldering sewing machine. She spotted her sister and Scootaloo staring at her. “Sweetie Belle, did you use this thing without my permission again?”
The sewing machine burped out more smoke as more ectoplasm oozed out from every vent and crevice. The fillies didn’t notice as they were too distracted by Rarity’s extra-long neck, which made her look like a white glamorous giraffe.
Sweetie Belle walked over to her sister. “Rarity, why are you here?”
“Oh, honestly, dear! These dresses won’t sew themselves, now will they? Could you be a dear and get my sewing kit out of the closet?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I’m not in the mood for your silly games, Sweetie Belle. I have important clients to tend to and I’m running behind as it is!”
“That’s . . . not an issue anymore, sis. Everyone knows what happened. Except you.”
“Whatever do you mean?” asked Rarity, bewildered.
Scootaloo walked over, patted her friend on the the shoulder and said, “That stuff that’s causing this smoke. It’s not Sweetie Belle’s doing. It’s yours.”
Rarity shook her head. “All I did was put my hooves on top of . . .” Her hooves whipped through the machine, the cloth and the table, creating another layer of goo. “Hmm, slight mishap. I probably need a new machine, that’s all.”
Sweetie Belle muttered, “I’m going to need both hooves for this." She planted her front hooves on her forehead. “Rarity, dear sister, light of my life, I’m going to tell you something very upsetting.”
“Whatever is the matter, dear?”
Sweetie Belle told her what the matter was.
The scream woke half the neighborhood.
* * *
Scootaloo sat on the boutique’s front door stoop. Rarity and her sister had a lot to talk about and they didn’t need an eavesdropper. She didn’t mind the break from all the ghosts. Shooing away Rarity’s concerned neighbors helped take her mind off all the night’s drama.
She had more than enough of that last night from yelling at her hero. Maybe staying at Rarity’s place wasn’t such a good idea, but Sweet Apple Acres wasn’t a great place to crash for the night, either.
Scootaloo curled up in a ball, trying to hold back the tears. How did so many ponies die so quickly?
She heard screams from Sugar Cube Corner. Mr. and Mrs. Cake were running out the front door, their two foals in tow. A moment later, Pinkie hovered out the door. “Does this mean I’m fired?” Pinkie yelled at the frightened couple. “Scream once for yes, twice for no!”
Is that why the Mane Six are still around? Scootaloo wondered. Puritan work ethics?
A voice above her remarked, “If you sleep there, ponies’ll think you’re homeless.”
“Oh, no.” whimpered Scootaloo. “How did you find me?”
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, squirt. Look, I know we got off on the wrong hoof last night.”
“You were dripping slime on my bed-sheets.”
“Well, I couldn’t help that,” replied Rainbow Dash, flustered.
“You scared my parents half to death!”
“I, uh, could have done better with them, I admit.”
“Dash, you were supposed to be my role-model! How was I supposed to look up to you when you flew off after what Twilight did . . .”
“I was upset! I needed some alone time!”
“Yeah, and look how you spent it!” Scootaloo was shivering with anger, tears sliding off her cheeks. “How could you do such a stupid thing to yourself?”
Rainbow Dash drifted closer to the porch lights. Her head was flattened like an empty soda can, making her eyes look like squashed marshmallows. “Well, I didn’t mean to! Why are you mad at me? Aren’t I still your hero?”
“Oh, you are so frickin’ dense! Just leave me alone, can’t you?”
Scootaloo ran away from Rainbow, her tiny wings flapping angrily.
For once in her life, Rainbow Dash was left with no snappy reply.
* * *
Fluttershy was trying to maintain control of her animals in her cottage, but Angel, her rabbit friend/assistant/dominant master, was busy with his new chore of running away from Fluttershy as quickly as possible.
“What is wrong with you, Angel?” pleaded the dainty pegasus.
When the rabbit was too exhausted to run another step, he looked at her and began to pantomime his answer.
“Yes, I know I fed the fish at the river.”
Angel bared his adorable teeth and snapped at the air.
“That’s right, they were hungry, weren’t they?”
He pointed at her and then slapped his bulging stomach.
“They did say something about savory chicken-flavor, but I don’t know what they meant.”
The rabbit slapped both paws over his eyes. He then looked around, found a carrot and flung it at Fluttershy.
“Eep!” She ducked. When she didn’t feel any impact, she turned to where the carrot fell.
“Angel, why did you toss a slimy carrot at me?”
He shook his floppy-eared head and pointed at her while drawing a line across his chest with a paw.
“What do you mean, it slipped through my . . . body. Oh. My.”
Fluttershy tried to cry, but ghosts have no tear ducts. Ghost skeletons have even less to work with.
After a few moments of futile weeping, she shook her skull. “Well, Angel, that explains a lot of things. Such as the teeth marks on my bones. That’s what I get for trusting piranha fish.”
* * *
Princess Twilight Sparkle was having a difficult time making tea. No matter what she tried, the simple acting of grasping the teapot was beyond her. Not even her Alicorn powers were working. So she did what she usually did in times of distress.
Yelled into the open air. “Spike!”
“Gahh!” Spike gahhed from the next room.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your comic book reading, but I need a little help here!”
She stared at the kitchen doorway. A few tense moments later, Spike peered around the edge like a wolf watching for hunters.
When he spotted his friend, his eyes shrunk to pin points. He whispered, “Dude, that’s creepy.”
“What did you say? Quit horsing around and grab this teapot for me. I seem to have butter-hooves today. Can’t get a grip on anything.”
“Not even reality?” replied Spike as he carefully walked towards Twilight.
“What are you talking about?”
He fidgeted with his claws, struggling for just the right words. “You don’t remember what happened after your last experiment?”
She tilted her head at him. “You mean my attempt to insert the knowledge of my books directly into my brain?”
He winced at the memory of her failure. “Yeah. That one.”
“I can’t remember a thing. I suppose the shock of absorbing so much information messed up my otherwise perfect memory. The results were pretty dramatic, I bet.”
Spike rubbed his temples. “That’s one way of putting it.” He opened a nearby drawer pulled out a mirror and held it up to her. “Here’s another way.”
Twilight peered at what looked back at her. Was her head supposed to be that big? Perhaps it was the mirror that distorted her image, even the part that revealed a large semi-transparent purple square where her normally-sized solid round head should be.
Spike’s lifelong friend wasn’t entirely dim. When her recent memories reassembled themselves like a dollar store ten-piece puppy-in-a-basket-puzzle, she screamed so loud and hard, ectoplasm shot out of her mouth and sprayed all over the kitchen.
Great, thought Spike, now I have this to clean up.
After a minute of specter-chunder spewing, she looked at her friend with tear-filled eyes.
Spike had already beat her in the crying game, tears racing down his scaly cheeks. “Twilight, I’ve missed you so badly. I haven’t even left the library in days!”
She peered at Spike’s blood-shot and baggy eyes. He looked exhausted.
Twilight rubbed her chin. “Why am I back here, Spike?”
“Maybe you wanted to see the results of your experiment?”
She frowned impatiently. “I already know I blew it.”
Spike sighed as he replied, “So did your friends, Twilight.”
“What do you mean?”
“You died over a week ago. After the funeral, your friends just weren’t the same. Rainbow Dash took off for the Polsky mountains and came back a few days later in a box. Soon after that, every one of your friends died. From accidents, according to their obituaries.”
Twilight could only stare in bewilderment at Spike. “Are you saying my death drove them to careless distraction?”
Spike scratched the back of his head. “That’s my best theory. Your friends had a really hard time adjusting to losing you. So have I.”
She groaned. “At least my friends are at peace now.”
“That’s not what Scootaloo told me this morning. It seems they’re as restless as you. The whole town’s in an uproar about them.”
“Spike?” asked Twilight in a shivery, quiet voice.
“Yes?”
“I think you had better take a letter.”
* * *
Dear Princess Celestia;
I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m dead! Spike says that I and my friends have all popped their horseshoes!
How will the Elements of Harmony be used against Equestria’s enemies without element bearers? That’s just not practical or marketable. Please let me know how you plan to solve this problem as soon as you can.
(Was) your faithful student;
Twilight “square-head” Sparkle
That’s not funny, Spike. Erase that nickname before you send off the let...
* * *
Dear(ly departed) Princess Twilight Sparkle;
I was wondering when you were going to notice the change in your daily routine. I had to commission a specially-shaped casket for your bizarrely-shaped head. Did you know that?
No. Of course you didn’t. Silly question. I wish I could say that your friends are resting in peace, but I’ve been getting reports of irritating ghost sightings all over Ponyville.
I have an idea how to clear up this mess, but I need your help. You need to hunt down your friends and tell them to meet me in front of your library at noon tomorrow.
Your mourning monarch,
Princess Celestia.
* * *
When a grumbling purple pony ghost with a huge square head floats up and down the front of a library, dragon in tow, it tends to attract attention.
“Look, mother,” piped up a nearby filly. “A parade float is muttering to itself.”
Twilight hung her heavy head low. “She’s late, Spike. I bet she wasn’t late for my funeral!”
Rainbow Dash floated over to Twilight and tried to comfort her with a shoulder pat. Unfortunately, since Dash was also spiritually-challenged, her blue hoof slipped into Twilight’s purple shoulder, the color combination being that of roofing tar.
“It’s okay, Twi.” Rainbow assured her. “Celestia’s probably getting a way to get us back to the living in no time flat.”
Twilight looked at Rainbow Dash’s head with a raised brow. “Speaking of flat, how did you make your head like that?”
Rainbow tried to raise an eyebrow right back at her friend, but her flattened head didn’t allow it.
Just a few days ago, Rainbow recalled, she was catching snowflakes with her tongue up in the snowcapped mountains. She fell faster than the flakes did, which means she crashed into a mountain faster than they did. Revealing this might make her look less than awesome, so she told a harmless untruth.
“I . . .uh . . . can’t remember.”
Fluttershy floated down to Twilight’s other side. “I finally remembered how I died. Who knew that piranha fish think pegasi taste like chicken? And those mean fish said they only wanted to chat with me in the river.”
“Oh, dear. I was worried I would be leaving you girls behind,” remarked Rarity as she struggled to balance her head on her unfashionably long neck. “Honestly, I now wish I had.”
Rainbow Dash squinted at her. “Uh. . . Rarity? How did . . .”
Rarity tsked and replied, “I was hanging silk ribbon decorations for my sister’s birthday party. I was trying to untangle one of them from around my neck when I fell off the ladder.”
“Well, at least Ah ain’t the only unfortunate pony around.”
The other pony ghosts turned to the drawling voice. Even with their respective deaths being as undignified as could be, even they had to stifle their snickers.
“Ah knew Ah shoulda bucked an apple tree that wasn’t half-rotten.”
Pinkie floated down to her friends, tsking. “Wow, am I the only one that kept her girlish figure?”
Spike snorted and grumbled, “Easy for you to say. According to your obituary, you choked to death on an eyeball from one of your meat-filled cupcakes before you had a chance to get chubby flanks!”
“Okay, Miss Cranky Cubehead! Sheesh!” Pinkie grumbled as she rolled her eyes around. After putting her eyes back in her head, she asked, “Say, shouldn’t we be moving on to that party in the sky by now?”
Rainbow held a hoof to her lips. “No! Shh! Don’t give Celestia any ideas! I want to get back to my weather duties! I can’t do that with no body!”
“You said Celestia had an idea on how to help us, Twilight,” said Fluttershy. “Why is she late?”
Princess Celestia suddenly appeared, that being one of her many powers, and said, “Because it took a while to gather everyone together.”
The ghosts bowed before her as her usual entourage of Royal Guards, fan-mares and paparazzi gathered around the Princess. When Twilight regained balance of her head, she noticed six ponies beside her that she didn’t recognize.
Pinkie asked, “Ooh, newcomers! Who are they, Celestia?”
“Your replacements,” Celestia bluntly stated.
“Ack!” Twilight acked. “Replacements? Y-you said you were going to help us!”
Celestia nodded. “I am, by letting you know that you are no longer needed. OC Six Ponies? Introduce yourselves.”
A short lime mare with a red mane and tail stepped up to Twilight. “Hey, there. I’m Cherry Popper, the leader of the group.” She waggled her economy-sized flanks, which had an exploding cherry cutie mark. “I’ll be remodeling the library.”
“Remodeling?” Twilight echoed with a mousey squeak.
“This town needs to get with the times. Since I represent the element of shipping, this book-dump of yours will be Ponyville’s newest adult book store. I’m thinking ‘Sassy Celestia’s’ is a good title.”
Cherry Popper barely dodged Twilight’s ecto-spurting. “Ahh! This can’t be happening! (spew) We must be in a Tartarus-generated torture scenario! This can’t (spurt) be real!”
The leader trotted back to Celestia’s side as a light brown pegasus flew up and then landed in front of Rainbow Dash. He had a perfectly coiffed black pompadour sticking out from his forehead like a unicorn horn. His cutie mark was a comb and scissors.
“You must be Rainbow Dash,” he remarked with a smug tone. “Nice variety of colors. Who did your mane and tail, the circus?”
She snorted. “Hey, shut up! What’s your name, anyway?”
“I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of me, since you probably combed your hair with barbed wire. My name’s Wind Shear, Equestria’s greatest barber! I’m the element bearer of hair.”
Rainbow dropped her jaw all the way to the ground. She was too in shock to notice the three-foot drop.
“Those Wonderbolts look like they style their manes with static electricity,” quipped Wind Shear. “But with my matchless hairdressing skills, every pegasus in the world will have tubular pompadours like mine.”
“Nooo!” wailed Rainbow Dash. “That’ll make them look like alicorns, and we have too many already!”
“Hey!” barked Twilight.
With an upturned nose and a dismissive flick of his tail, Wind Shear turned and flew over to Celestia.
A skinny white colt with a short-cropped grey mane and a pair of walnuts for a cutie mark marched over to Pinkie Pie. “Hello, sugar-rush. I’m Health Nut.”
“Ooh, I like your nuts!” squealed Pinkie. “How are you going to replace me? Will you be baking pecan pies instead of cupcakes?”
“Actually, I’ll be converting Sugar Cube Corner into a health food store. No sugar or trans fats will be found anywhere my place of business.”
“B-b-but you’ll be ruining my legacy!”
Health Nut blew a short raspberry. “Of what? Type 2 diabetes? I’m surprised your place didn’t kill half this town. The Cakes will have to adjust to my way of business, or they can leave.”
“But it’s their business!” Pinkie cried. “You can’t tell them what to sell!”
“I’m your replacement, remember? Since I’m one of the OC Six, not to mention the element bearer of healthy eating, I can enforce eminent domain over any business in Equestria.”
Pinkie’s hair went flat with a flatulent PROOT sound. “Cupcakes . . . no more cupcakes.”
Health Nut stepped away from the manically depressed ghost, hoof-bumping a dark grey teenage unicorn with a long white mane. He had a bloody razor blade for a cutie mark.
The unicorn trotted over to Rarity, who began to shake her head in denial of her replacement. Her flashlight-thin neck began to bend, making Rarity’s head tilt sideways.
“Hey, jewel-butt,” said the newcomer. “Name’s Goth Twit, element bearer of teen angst. I’m turning your twee little barnyard clothing store into the latest link in my store chain. Soon every school-pony in this town will shop at Clop Topic.”
“Am I being punished for something?” Rarity asked the universe. Her call went to voice mail.
“Aw, it’s going to be so cool,” Twit trilled. “Mortis brand black leather pants, fur dyes, horn-piercings, bongs . . .”
Rarity stopped mentally speed-dialing the universe. “Bongs?” she began to giggle. “Oh, you silly boy. You can’t sell drug-related paraphernalia in Equestria.”
“Sorry, marshmallow-buns,” retorted another approaching OC. He was a purple earth pony with a green mane. “Princess Celestia’s been passin’ all kinda laws lately, one of them makin’ it real easy to start a new cash crop. Just as soon as all those stupid apple trees come down, that is.”
“Is that so?” challenged Applejack. “What’re you gonna put on mah land?”
The green pony jerked his head towards his cutie mark: a five-pointed leaf.
The cowpony put her hooves over her eyes. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yeah. My name’s Thai Stick. I represent the element of weed. My herb-superb’s gonna bring everypony in Equestria closer to nature. By that, I mean everypony will soon be too stoned to lift their heads off the ground.”
Fluttershy’s bones began to rattle with fear as she approached Princess Celestia. “Uhm, I’m almost afraid to ask, but who’s going to take care of my animals?”
An orange colt with a purple mane stepped between them. “They will have to learn to take care of themselves when I deport them. I can’t have them near my new fuel factory.”
“W-what?”
“Name’s Frack King. I’m not a real king, but I’m the best at getting fuel from just about anywhere. That’s why I carry the element of natural gas.”
Fluttershy spotted his cutie mark, a blue flame.
“Oh, nooo . . .” She wobbled and fainted. When she hit the ground, her bones scattered. Rainbow Dash swooped down and reassembled her friend.
“Um, Dash? I hate to complain, but you put my hooves on backwards.”
Rainbow Dash sighed as she put the misplaced bones on the ground. “Sorry, Fluttershy. I wish I had a mortician to help me with this.”
“I’ll help.” said Scootaloo.
“Thanks, squirt.” Rainbow stopped, a leg-bone in one hoof, and wheeled around to see the cutie mark crusaders smiling shyly at her.
Scootaloo’s ears went flat as she sniffed. “Rainbow? It was wrong of me to yell at you. I was just upset that you’re gone and I don’t have any other role models.”
“There are lots of other great pegasi around. Spitfire, Thunderlane . . .”
“But there was only one Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo stamped a hoof. “You were the closest thing I had to a big sister!”
Rainbow Dash blinked, suddenly catching on.
“You aren’t really mad at me.” Replied Rainbow. “You’re angry at what happened to me.”
Scootaloo’s tears dripped off her nose as she quietly said, “Yeah.”
Rainbow reached out to pat her number one fan on the shoulders but stopped, recalling her ectoplasmic form. “Scoots, I’ve tried my best to teach you to believe in yourself, to stay strong whether you eventually fly or not. But now you have to be strong for your friends. They’ve lost a lot too, you know.”
“You really think I can be as tough as you?”
Rainbow Dash smiled and winked at her. “Tougher. Your friends are luckier than they know to have someone like you by their side.”
Scootaloo’s lips quivered as she held out her arms. “Thanks. Come here.”
“Uh, Scoots, I don’t think . . .”
“Oh, let’s just fake-hug, okay? Don’t wreck the moment.”
Scootaloo got slathered in a thick coat of Rainbow’s ooze, but she was too happy to care.
Twilight put on her bravest smile, which only made her look constipated, and said to Celestia, “Princess? I…...don’t want to disparage your intelligence or anything, but what the plot are you thinking? These replacements are horrible!”
Princess Celestia closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and sighed. She knew she was about to give her best student the last speech she would ever hear, so Celestia gathered her far-flung thoughts together before answering.
“Twilight, Spike told me in a private letter that you don’t remember how you died.”
Twilight rubbed her front hooves together, looking away from her mentor. “Uh . . . actually, I recalled that a few hours ago. I was chanting a spell that would convert the information in my books into a magic beam of pure learning.”
“So what happened?”
“I sneezed halfway into the chant. The spell got confused and sent not metaphysical energy, but at least ten books into my skull. I was dead before I hit the floor.”
“Do you want to be remembered as the Alicorn Princess who died in such a tragically silly fashion?”
Twilight looked down. “Not really. What does that have to do with these new ponies?”
“In my hard-won experience, people often only remember the one time someone famous screws up, not the other times they did something right. Your friends keep popping up all over town, annoying people by trying to get back to a life they can’t have anymore.”
She gestured at the new ponies. “Bringing in these substitute element-bearers will serve two purposes. Firstly, their obnoxious behavior will make the locals pine for the good old days of the Mane Six. After that, they will only recall the way you and your friends lived, not how you all died.”
“And the second purpose?”
“Once you all are revered as fallen heroes, you will finally accept your deaths. Once the living move on, so too will the dead. Isn’t that what anypony wants? To be remembered fondly?”
Twilight sighed. “I guess.”
“I realize that these substitute ponies are terrible, but they were the best I could find in such short notice. It’s always a tragedy when so many good ponies die, for only the less adequate ponies remain. The Mane Six will eventally be replaced, but will never be surpassed.”
Applejack floated next to Twilight and said, “It kinda sucks that mah apple farm’s gonna be turned into a wacky-tobacy factory. Mah momma n’ daddy are gonna be pissed when Ah see 'em on the other side.”
Celestia grinned as she gestured the two mares to come close. She held up a hoof next to her lips and whispered, “Just between us three, these idiots will probably be run out out of town in a week. After that, a better set of OCs will be brought in.”
Rainbow Dash floated over to Celestia and asked, “What does ‘OC’ stand for, anyway?”
Thai Stick flashed a smart-assed grin and replied, “Obviously Cool, Gay Pride Pony.”
Health Nut raised a hoof. “Actually, I heard OC stood for Omnipresent Collective.”
Rarity snickered. “Obnoxious Cretins?”
Pinkie Pie giggled. “Often Crummy?”
As the Mane Six gathered together in a ghostly group-hug, while still making OC jokes, they began to fade away. The last thing anyone heard Twilight say before she and her friends blipped out of existence was, “Obsolete Clods?”
When the ghosts were gone and the OC Six trotted off to their new homes, Princess Celestia mulled over the happier times she had with Twilight and her friends. Since Alicorns have flawless memories, she had a lot to recall.
After a few minutes of blissful introspection, she looked at the empty spot where her faithful student and best friend once floated.
Celestia, being immortal, had learned many things from the countless lives and deaths she had witnessed during her two thousand year reign.
One of them was this. In the end, all that remains of mortals are the deeds they have done and the good they have left behind. Since the Mane Six moved on so quickly, they had to have known the same thing.
Memories are all anyone owns. Celestia’s memories of the Mane Six would always shine as brightly as the sun she controlled.
Spike walked up to Celestia. “Princess?”
“Yes, Spike?”
“I don’t want to be Cherry Popper’s assistant. I’m probably too young for her store, anyway, so could I be your helper instead?”
“I would be delighted,” she said as she used her magic to plunk the dragon onto her back.
The princess turned and flew away from Ponyville. She was already making a studious, carefully researched check-list of replacement ponies with Spike writing down every name.
Twilight would have been pleased.
Author's Note
This story is a bit of a departure for me. I wanted to see if I could write something other than saddy-waddys and darky...er...warkys.
OCs get a lot of lumps due to being really boring, but I wanted to create deliberately horrible OCs just to see what popped up.
The theme song for this story is "When You Die#2" by Barnes and Barnes.
Thai Stick's theme song is "Green and Purple" by Kritikal.
Cherry Popper's theme song is "Lover Boy/Lover Girl" by Lords Of Acid (She's the element bearer of shipping. Why wouldn't she swing both ways?)
Goth Twit's theme song is The Crow Soundtrack. (Yes, I know that's more than one song. Hush.)
As for the other OCs? I dunno. What do you think their theme songs should be?
