Life's Left Hook

Her barking of orders scared you a bit, and you did your best to be quick about it.

You take off your belt and hold it in front of Spitfire's mouth.

As she clamps down on it, the doctor speaks up.

"I can't believe you're making me do zis," she says, getting her mask on and her tools ready.

"Rrh crn't brlrrrv yrr surr FURKHRN rrncrmprtrnt!" Spitfire says through a belt.

As the doctor hooks Spitfire up to the IV, you place your hands on those buff shoulders.

Dear god, this mare is RIPPED.

Even with broken legs, you can feel her muscles flexing with incredible strength.

You're not even sure if Applejack or her brother were this strong.

The doctor holds her scalpel with her magic, just above Spitfire's exposed belly.

"Here goes," she says unceremoniously.

You cringe at the sight, and look away, holding Spitfire down.

You don't dare look as the doctor does her business.

Tears are coming to Spitfire's eyes, and the grunts and groans she's making are ear-rending.

It makes you sick to your stomach, and all you can do is close your eyes and hope to hell that it ends soon.

Soon, however, is no adjective to describe; this goes on for what seems like hours, and even in her haste, the doctor can only go so fast.

By the end of it all, you think you're going to be sick.

Your gut hurts, your head aches, and overall, you think you're a bit traumatized from what you heard.

Spitfire is as pale as a glass of milk, and her gaze is distant.

The sounds she makes as she's stitched back together are weak, but you can tell she's going through ab absolute hell.

You take your hands off of her shoulders, and as the final stitch is sewed, the doctor pulls away, and Spitfire closes her eyes.

She lets out one last  groan before slipping out of consciousness, and the doctor trots over to tamper with the IV.

You let out a grumble, and try to ease your stomach pains as the doctor does her business.

And, as you walk over by the entrance, you hear a high-pitched, coarse voice.

"...Dude, seriously, what the hay?"

And, immediately, your heart stops.

Standing in front of the door is none other than Scootaloo, and she has a look of absolute horror on her face.

"Scootaloo?! What the hell—why are you here?!"

She looks like she's about to have a heart attack, and tries to explain.

"W-Well, y-you were gone and I didn't know where you were and I wanted to look for you so I went outside and looked around and then I heard screaming and then I walked in and then I saw this and then I closed the door and then— IS SHE DEAD?!"

Just now, she takes note of the orange body on the ironing board, along with the copious amount of blood.

As she stands there, petrified, her tail lifts, and the only thing you hear is a resounding *plop*.

That's going to smell great.

As Poopaloo starts to hyperventilate, you grab her shoulders and pick her up.

"No, Scoots, she's not dead! She's going to live! Calm down!"

"Dude, there's blood everywhere! What the hay?"

"Yes, yes I know, Scootaloo, just"

...Liiiightbuuulb...

"Scootaloo?"

"Wh-What?"

"Where's your scooter?"

She looks out the door, and then back at you.

"It's, uh, in the lobby with the squirt guns? There was some pee on it too."

This might just work!

"Go grab it. Quickly. Please."

"Uh, why?"

"Just do it," you say firmly. "And don't say a word to Trixie, or anyone else about what you saw, okay?"

"Uhm..."

She looks nervous, and incredibly scared.

"Scootaloo, please. This is really important. I'll explain later. Just go get your scooter and its box."

"Uh... Okay, Anon... I-I'll be right back!"

With that, she darts out the door and to the lobby.

"...Great," the doctor says, taking off her mask. "Now ve have a foal to deal vith."

You turn to her, and try to give a confident look.

"She can keep a secret. I know she can. She's got your back when you need it."

"You? You need to make zat absolutely certain," she says, shooting you a glare. "Ze last thing I need is to have a kid spill all of ze beans. And, concerning I haven't even been told vhat in Celestia's name is happening, I have a feeling zat now is ze vorst time ever to let beans spill. Explain. Tell me as much as you know. Right now. You promised to tell me, and damn it, I need to know."

You take a step back.

"Whoa, whoa, okay. I don't know what the hell's happening either, but I know a few things."

You point to the unconscious pile of orange on the table.

"That Spitfire is the real Spitfire. There was another Spitfire that Cadance and I talked to earlier; that Spitfire was fake, I'm sure of it. And that fake Spitfire dropped off a box. That box had the unconscious, beat up, and bleeding REAL Spitfire inside. Cadance is trying to keep secrets from me, and didn't want me to open the box. She must know what's inside, and what's up. Other than that, I have no clue what's going on, or why, or how!"

"...Vell now, I... Zis, is... Erm... Unexpected... Zis is new. And zat's saying something; I thought I knew everything."

She looks at Spitfire, and sighs.

"And now ze changelings are getting involved."

She groans in irritation, and slowly a glare forms on her face.

"Damn it all to hell! Vhat ze hell is Cadance doing?!"

The doctor's gaze is distant as she starts preparing supplies, likely to cast Spitfire's legs.

"It makes no sense! It makes absolutely no sense!"

She trots over to the 'operating table, and carefully stretches out one of the broken legs.

"Two Spitfires, a missing Shining Armor—is she doing all of zis out of jealousy?! By ze moon, I knew she vasn't ze brightest of mares, but WOW! Jealousy has always been her vorst vice since ze Siege of Canterlot!"

She keeps working on the hind leg, wrapping it in a cast.

While she does that, the last sentence of hers catches your attention.

"Wait, what did you say about jealousy?"

The doctor grumbles a bit, not daring to take her attention off of her patient.

"Ever since ze siege, she almost lost Shining, and she's been as protective as ze royal guard ever since. I svear, you can -see- ze jealousy in her eyes vhenever ze slightest thing happens. It's almost scary."

Well, that would... Kinda explain one thing...

But you probably shouldn't bring it up now.

It seems like she already knows.

You sit down on the ground and rest for a moment.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?"

She shakes her head, putting the finishing touches on the cast.

"No, I don't, but I'm going to do my best to find out. And, vith Spitfire's help, I'm certain I can get to ze bottom of zis."

Confidence.

Something everyone else in your little clique has, spare you.

You really need to work on that.

After a short moment of peace and quiet, the door opens.

Scootaloo has her giant box on her back, and she's looking at you.

"...Uh, I got it," she says, gesturing to the box.

"Great. Doctor?"

"Hum?"

"Spitfire said she's planning on following us to find out what's going on. I'm smuggling her."

Finally, this catches her attention.

Her ears perk, and she looks at you.

"Smuggling? ...Oh, don't tell me you're doing vhat I think you're doing."

You smile.

"Eeyup. I think she'll fit nicely inside the box, until she's walking again."

Something bumps your shoulder.

You look over, and see the assailant.

Scootaloo is trying to get your attention.

She seems to have calmed down by now, thankfully, but is still a bit unnerved.

"Uh, dude? You still need to tell me what the buck is up."

You sigh.

"Look, Scootaloo, it's a long, incredibly complex story. Want me to give you a short version?"

"Please, dude."

"Okay, so. There's a lot of weird stuff going on, and Marshall Spitfire here needs to come with us. But, there's one thing, and this is really important. You listening?"

"Yeah?" she says, nodding.

"Cadance can't know a thing. Neither can anyone else. It has to be super secret."

At this point, her wings slowly rise, and her ears perk.

"Super secret?"

You nod.

"Mmmhmm."

"So, like, in some of those super-cool shows I see at the theatre with secret agent dudes?"

You nod again.

"Precisely. Only now, this is really serious, and this could get us in big trouble. Can I trust you, Scootaloo?"

She nods.

"Of course you can, dude! When haven't I had your back?"

You smile, bringing Scootaloo into a tight hug.

"I knew I could trust you."

You shake her around in your grasp, and give her a light noogie.

"H-Hey, knucklehead! I'm not done yet! One condition!"