The Belle and Bloom Show

Slowly I made my way off the farm and into town. That awful script was still rattling around in my mind as I wandered. I had no real destination, I just had to get out and clear my mind.

Lots of ponies waved at me as I passed, others just stared. I caught bits of conversations as I passed, “that’s her! That’s really her!” “get her autograph!” “what, no way!” and so on… thankfully no one approached me. I passed the dance studio, and I peered through the window. Only one section was lit up where a ballet class was in session.

After about another hour of aimlessly wandering the streets of Ponyville, I decided to stop by Sugarcube Corner for a milkshake to cool off and relax a little.

Mrs. Cake took my order, and a few minutes later I had a tall, delicious milkshake. I scanned the shop, looking for an open seat. It all looked pretty full, except one table in the back where a familier green filly sat, picking at a piece of pie.

“It won’t bite,” I said to her once I got close. She startled, looked at me, and then back at her plate. “Can I join you?”

Dos-à-Dos shrugged.

I sat across from her and looked at her, but she avoided my eyes. “So… um you just here by yourself?” I asked brightly. I immediately cringed internally. Stupid thing to say! Come on, Apple Bloom!

Dos-à-Dos sighed. “What do you want, Apple Bloom?”

“To talk to you?”

“If you’re here to say I’m no longer welcome on the show, I already know.”

I stared at her for a long moment. Her eyes were slightly red. Has she been crying? “I didn’t come here to tell that. I’m out and about while Sweetie calms down.”

Dos-à-Dos gave me a curious look, but said nothing.

“We read the script after... you left,” I said the last part quickly. “It was bad. Really bad.”

“I didn’t see that coming,” Dosie said darkly.

“You don’t understand,” I responded quickly. “It was so bad Sweetie Belle, um, she got a little mad. She may have incinerated it and nearly the whole clubhouse—”

“Wait, she destroyed it?”

“Yeah. She was cursing and stomping, and now she’s trying to write—actually I’m not sure what she’s writing, but she’s doing it very angrily.”

Dos-à-Dos shook her head. “You’re talking about Sweetie Belle, right?”

“I ain’t seen her like this, ever. It was a bit scary. But she admits you were right.”

“Back there…” Dos-à-Dos trailed off, struggling to find the words. “Back in the clubhouse I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“That’s one way of putin’ it,” I remarked.

“I really regret saying those things to her.” Dosie wiped a tear from her cheek. “I got carried away. I was really excited to be part of the show, and I’m very passionate about artistry and creativity. It just made me mad she was so willing to throw it all away.”

“It needed to be said.” Dos-à-Dos gave me a sharp look of confusion and anger. “Sweetie was being ridiculous, and no way was anything going to work out under that Talent Scout creep. And that script…” I sighed deeply. “Apprently I’m a dumb inbred hillbilly who wants my brother to sleep with me because he’s banging my sister who is also my mother.”

“What?” Dos-à-Dos asked loudly. “No! That’s what was in that script?” Her face twisted in complete disgust.

“Pretty much.” I shook my head. “He hates me, and I don’t know why, and now he’s taking shots at my family who he doesn’t even know. And what’s more, Applejack has done more for Equestria than he ever will!”

Dos-à-Dos put a hoof over mine. “I know. Apple Bloom, that’s awful. I’m sorry… some ponies are just awful I guess.”

I could feel the tears building up behind my own eyes. Not because of what I had read but because Dos-à-Dos was so empathetic and understanding. I took a much longer sip of my milkshake, getting myself back under control.

We sat in silence for a while. Dos-à-Dos finally ate her piece of pie, and I had finished my milkshake.

“Now what?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I guess we can go see if Sweetie Belle is ready to talk.”

“I’m not sure she would want to see me…” said Dos-à-Dos.

“She’s not mad at you,” I responded.

“Okay, I’ll go, but I’d rather not be on the bad side of a unicorn like her.”

I cast a sideways glance at her. “Look, Sweetie Belle is mad beyond anything I’ve ever seen, but not at you.”

“You’re probably right, I just don’t feel good about myself for saying those things.”

I gave her a reassuring hug. “It’ll be okay.”

We began our journey back to the farm when Dos-à-Dos came to an abrupt halt and her eyes wide. “I almost forgot! We have an interview with the Equestrian Dancer at noon!”

I looked at the clock tower in town. It was ten-till. “Let’s head over there and do that first.”

“Sweetie Belle was going to be in that,” Dos-à-Dos added frantically.

“I seriously doubt she’s interested in doing a fluff piece at the moment. Besides we’d never make it there and back here in time.”

“Okay…” Dosie said uncomfortably. “You know her better than me, so I trust your judgement.”

A few minutes later we were outside the studio where a thin grey unicorn was levitating a notepad and an older pale green unicron with a greying mane lazily levitated a camera. Most of the dance team had already assembled.

“Hey there, fillies!” he announced. His voice was low and smooth. With little effort he was able to get everyone’s attention. “Quick Quill’s the name, and this is my multi-talented photographer, graphical artis, extraordinaire, Shutter Flash.”
Shutter Flash gave a nod and a slight bow.

“Alright, the formalities are done, um… yeah let’s do this thing. You fillies line up, and I’ll start askin’ away.”

Quick Quill seemed nice enough. He had a well practiced nonchalance that made the idea of an interview less intimidating, even though I wasn’t the one being interviewed.

“I recognize you from the show,” Quick Quill said to me. “Nice singing and dancing. Where is your lovely co-star, Sweetie Belle?”

“Co-star?” I asked, somewhat affronted. “She’s running this whole thing.”

“Of course, of course,” Quick Quill said quickly. “Didn’t mean anything by it. Is she still coming, though?”

“She couldn’t make it. She’s doing some rewrites.”

“Understandable, understandable,” said Quick Quill in his smooth low voice. “We’ll just have to interview you two sometime after your next show. I’ll pencil you in… I like to keep an open, malleable schedule. Freelance life, ya know?”

“Not really?” I wasn’t sure it was actually a question though.

Quick Quill chuckled. “That accent,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else. “She’s just the cutest, Shutters!”

Shutter Flash muttered something inaudible in return as he peered through his camera at Feather Step, who was striking a ridiculous pose.

I blushed a little. This Quick Quill certainly had a silver tongue.

“Well, I’d love to talk to a charming filly like you longer, but… I gotta get this thing goin.’ Equestrian Dancer is payin’ the bills.” He did a half bow and sauntered off to the first filly in line for the interview.

The interview lasted maybe thirty minutes. Quick Quill and Shutter Flash showed lots of enthusiasm to the fillies and asked a lot of interesting questions. He certainly did his research before showing up. Dos-à-Dos was the last to be interviewed, but by the time they got to her, she didn’t have much to add so they asked her a lot of ‘what does dancing mean to you’ type of questions.

Once the interview was over, Quick Quill promised me he would be at our next show and then bid us a good day.

Dos-à-Dos walked up beside me with a smirk on her face. “He was hitting on you. “

I rolled my eyes. “He was just being nice. Besides he’s too old for me.”

“Bet you’d like a sugar daddy.”

“Um, hello, filly-fooler here.”

Dos-à-Dos giggled. “I’m just teasing. To be honest I think he was hitting on everyone there.”

“Dosie,” I said in mock exasperation. “Not every stallion who’s nice is coming on to you.”

“Oh? Is that how that works?” Dos-à-Dos shrugged. “Fillies are easier to understand.”

“In what universe is that even remotely true?” I asked her. Never had I heard something so ridiculous.

Our banter continued all the way back to the clubhouse. We stopped it abruptly as we approached the clubhouse. And with a single look at Dos-à-Dos, I walked forward and went inside.

Sweetie Belle was asleep on the floor. Her notepad was open in front of her with very darkly written letters. She startled awake as soon as Dos-à-Dos and I stepped inside.

“Oh, hey,” she said sleepily. She stretched and stood up. “I must have fallen asleep…” Her eyes locked on Dos-à-Dos.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry for what—”

Sweetie held up a hoof. “No need to apologise. I was the one being a jerk.”

“No I was. I should never have never implied you were a cheap sell out or a… or a whore.” Dos-à-Dos hung her head. “I really am sorry.”

Sweetie Belle shook her head. “No, I am sorry. You were right. It was a bad deal. And Apple Bloom, I’m very sorry. You were right about TS. I should have listened.”

“No, Sweetie, I should be the one—’

“Will both of you shut up!” I yelled. “You’re both sorry, we get it.”

Sweetie Belle and Dos-à-Dos looked at me, then at each other and started giggling.

“I’m glad you’ve calmed down, Sweetie. You aren’t mad anymore?” I asked.

“No, I’m pissed off!” Sweetie shouted. “But not at you two. I love you girls,” she said softly.

My heart practically soared out of my chest. I know Sweetie didn’t mean it the way I wanted her to, but that didn’t stop me from feeling a sense of joy.

Sweetie Belle levitated her notepad over to her. “This is what I’m thinking for the show. It’s going to be a big screw you to TS and the music industry! And I want to put on the biggest show in Equestria! I want huge props, the dancers, the stage effects, I want those sparking shoes, I want lots of them, I want costumes, and I want pyrotechnics!”

“Well… that’s quite the list,” said Dos-à-Dos. “I’m not sure where we can get all of that…”

“Scootaloo will probably set anything on fire if you ask her,” I added offhandedly. “But the rest of the stuff, I don’t know. Didn’t he take our funding away?”

“Shit!” Sweetie Belle stomped her foot. “I forgot about that.”

I smirked as Dos-à-Dos gave Sweetie a look of approval. “I have some money saved. I’ll put it in.”

“Me too,” said Dos-à-Dos.

“How much are we talking here?” asked Sweetie. “These things aren’t going to be cheap, and we still need the city center, a band, and someone to run the lights and other offstage effects.”

“Well I have like fifty bits,” said Dos-à-Dos.

“I have a hundred.”

Sweetie Belle shook her head. “Save you money. That’s not even close to the amount we’d need. We’re talking thousands needed.”

My heart sank. That was a lot, and I’m pretty sure Applejack would just laugh if I asked to borrow that much money from her.

“Fundraiser?” suggested Dos-à-Dos.

Sweetie Belle shook her head. “We need sponsors, patrons, that sort of thing. Twilight was a fan of our show. Let’s ask her. Royal coffers are bottomless.”

“Probably our best shot,” I shrugged. It was actually our only shot. “Well, let's read this material you got here, Sweetie.”

To my surprise, the lyrics to the song she wrote weren’t as problematic as I was expecting, considering her attitude when she wrote them. There was no question that they were edgy. One of the last lines didn’t make much sense though…

“What’s a Jaguar?” I asked. “I’m guessing you don’t mean the big cat.”

Sweetie smiled. “It’s a fancy self-driven carriage. They’re magically attuned to respond to the pony operating it, and unlike others, they are really fast. They’re really expensive.”

“I remember seeing those magical carriages in Manehatten,” I mused aloud. “I didn’t realize there were different types. But hey, we don’t even have those here.” I handed Dos-à-Dos the notepad.

“I’m not sure I understand the metaphor,” said Dos-à-Dos. “I think I get what you’re trying to say…” she scratched her head. “We are the machine... it just doesn’t hit hard enough. See over here, you said ‘it’s alright we told you what to dream,’ so it doesn’t sound like we are the machine, but a part of it.”

“Welcome to the machine?” I suggested.

Sweetie Belle’s eyes lit up immediately. “That’s it! After all you have to become part of it to make it in the music industry. Apple Bloom, you’re just the best.” Sweetie Belle took her notebook back and began making changes.

I blushed furiously as Dos-à-Dos gave me an all-too-knowing smirk. “I think we need another song,” I said, trying to not look at either of them.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “I have some ideas for that. Wait until you see what I have planned for the performance.” Sweetie Belle smirked.

I exchanged a worried look with Dos-à-Dos.

“Anyway, what do you two think of cigars?” asked Sweetie.

I frowned as did Dos-à-Dos. “They smell bad?”

“Yes, and…”

“They make lots of smoke,” added Dos-à-Dos flatly. “Oh, and they’re bad for you.”

“And, business ponies in suits make all of the decisions and the money, and they sit around and smoke fat cigars.”

“Oh,” we both said together.

“So what’s this have to do with anything?” I asked.

“It’s part of the second song.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” said Dos-à-Dos. “You have it mentioned here in this song.”

We spent the rest of the day writing lyrics. Sweetie Belle was more motivated and energetic than I had ever seen her. She had made it clear that we had to get funding from elsewhere or there could be trouble, and we couldn’t use the name The Belle and Bloom show either.

We fashioned a new name we were hoping would fly under ponies’ radars or wouldn’t confuse them into thinking it was a different show: ‘Belle and Bloom Presents: Welcome to the Machine.’ And with the tagline, ‘it’s alright we told you what to dream’, we believed it would be edgy and evocative enough ponies would spend more time talking about that than the slight name variation.

The following week, Sweetie Belle had us on the stage rehearsing. She wanted everything perfect. A lot of the blocking was difficult to get right without the music though. We had to rely on her counting aloud.

Getting Princess Twilight as a patron was much easier than I thought. Sweetie Belle simply said we were not long working with our producer due to creative differences and were looking for a patron. Twilight leapt at the opportunity. “Music has the essence of friendship. It can unite so many unique ponies and magical creatures! Of course I want you two to continue!”

As the week dragged on, I could tell the energy wasn’t there among the dance team, Dos-à-Dos included. Each rehearsal progressively got worse, and some ended in shouting matches. I must admit, I too, wasn’t feeling it. I did my best to do my parts the best I could, but I think Sweetie Belle could see me slipping up. Everyone was still showing up, but I could tell it was begrudgingly. If something didn’t change soon, ponies were bound to quit.

On one particular day of rehearsal, Sweetie Belle was nowhere to be seen. She was usually the one who was there before everyone and the one who left after everyone.

“Where is she?” asked Feather Step.

Everyone just shrugged.

“What does it matter? I didn’t want to come anyway.”

“Hey come on now, there’s probably a good reason why she’s not here yet.”

“Ugh.” Was the only response Feather Step could dignify.

And then as if on cue Sweetie Belle walked in. She was out of breath and her face was bright red.

“Sorry I’m late, but listen up everypony!” Sweetie Belle paused to take a deep breath. “I know things haven’t been going well this week, and I know I’ve been a bad director and manager. I am sorry. There are just a lot of moving pieces right now, and I’m a little stressed. But I have good news! I have found a group of musicians to play this show’s music. Which means no more me shouting, we can learn our parts in time with the actual music.”

We all cheered.

“Due to the unusual arrangement of instruments and effects we are using, it was harder to get an ensemble of musicians together to do it. But they will be here any minute to set up.

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over us, and we were waking up from a midsummer stupor. Everyone was refocused, and… excited.

The excitement grew as we heard voices from the other side of the stage curtain.

“Ooh, I think that’s them!” exclaimed Feather Step. “Musicians are, like, so hot.”

“Hang on,” said Sweetie Belle. Her magical aura surrounded the ropes controlling the curtains, making them slowly rise.

On stage were the strangest collection of ponies I had ever seen. One was a colt a little younger than us, but his diminutive stature made him appear much younger. There were three stallions with long black manes who wore leather jackets and wayfarer sunglasses. And then there was Pinkie Pie.

Feather Step’s eager face collapsed instantly upon seeing them.

“So, I’m sure everypony here is familiar with Pinkie,” said Sweetie Belle, not noticing everyone’s shocked reactions.

“Howdy!” said Pinkie with her usual exuberance. “I’ll be doing sound effects!” she sang out. “A few bangs, a few clanks, and a few klonks!”

“And this is Wright Note, one of the best on the keyboard I’ve ever seen,” continued Sweetie Belle.

Wright Note smiled and waved, but said nothing.

“Next are a group known as the Starswirls. On drums and percussion is Mason Starr, on bass is Night Hawk, and on guitar is Glimour!”

Each of them nodded as Sweetie pointed them out.

It was the most rag-tag team to put on a show ever. Compared to what we’ve done, this will be a major shock on the audience.

“Okay, well…” began Sweetie Belle. “I think we should listen to the concept music first, and then rehearse our parts after.”

As the band took up their place in the orchestra pit, I heard Feather Step whisper. “They’re not even hot.” I rolled my eyes.

“No sound effects yet, Pinkie,” said Sweetie.

“Okaladokaly, boss filly!”

The first chord rang out, a dramatic rake across the guitar. A strong march-like beat started from the drums, and an eerie single chord rang from the keyboard. The song slowly gained momentum, creating tension, having a raw gritty sound, and a war-like marching rhythm driving it. It was unlike anything I had ever heard. I could feel hair standing on end. It seemed the others also weren’t sure how to react.

After the song had finished, there was a good thirty seconds of silence before Sweetie Belle finally broke it. “Well, that’s the idea. Some changes will probably need to be made.”

“I like it!” exclaimed Pinkie Pie.

“You do?” I asked. Pinkie was the last pony in Equestria I thought would like something like that.

“Of course! It’s got edge.”

I nodded. It was definitely edgy and dark.

“Well the dancing part makes more sense now,” said Feather Step. “I wish we could better show our talents than marching to a beat…” She shook her head. “It will really shock Ponyville, so I’m in, if not for dancing, but for shaking things up.”

I smirked. “I want to see the look on Talent Scout’s face.”

Sweetie grinned darkly. “I hope more producers are in the audience too.”

From the way Sweetie Belle spoke, it was very clear she was still angry. I had become numb to the type of stuff TS wrote. It was worse than I had expected, it was vile, but I considered him to be a vile pony, so I didn’t expect anything less. For Sweetie, however, it was a betrayal. He had bamboozled her with promises of fame, and promises of promoting her ideas for music. He was nice to her, not because he thought she was talented, but because he knew he could market her, sell her, and make a ton of bits doing it. Once Sweetie figured out she was seen as a product to be sold and not an artist, she snapped. This show was her rebuke, her rejection of that system, and it was part of her healing process.

We spent the next two days rehearsing with the music. Most of the big props were built and placed on stage. Everyone was invigorated with a new rebellious energy. We had both songs written, the routines were set, Sweetie’s pyrotechnics were still in the works, and was making me a bit nervous. But she said there was no room for subtlety in a show like this.

On our last performance, we were all sitting on the stage, in full costumes, admiring the major set pieces. We had just finished our final run though and we were feeling pretty good about it. Down by the orchestra pit, Sweetie Belle and Wright Note were talking. Having nothing else going on, I decided to go over and see what was going on.

“It’s that A minor chord,” said Sweetie. “It’s just not doing it.”

“I’m playing it just like it’s written,” said Wright Note. He seemed a little defensive.

“It’s not that you’re playing wrong… it just isn’t the right attitude.” Sweetie looked at the rest of the band. “Okay play the first few bars of the second song, and, Wright Note, I don’t want you to play A minor, I want you to slam your hooves into that chord. Tell that keyboard you mean business. Play it like you’re angry at the world and you have something to say with that chord.”

“Um, okay? I’ll, um...try.” Wright Note caved under Sweetie’s intense look, and his small stature made him look like a foal who was just yelled at by his parents.

Sweetie Belle frowned. “What are you doing? I said attitude! Own the space you occupy!” she shouted.

Wright Note retreated further. “I-I’ll can’t.”

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you can’t play the keyboard as well as I thought,” said Sweetie Belle softly.

Wright Note’s face turned a shade of red, and he grit his teeth. He put his face close to Sweetie’s. “Fine!” he yelled. “You want me to bang on the keyboard? Fine! I’ll do it! But don’t insult me! I can play better than most ponies in this town! I’m the best you’ll ever get, that’s for sure!”

It was dead quiet. And then Sweetie Belle grinned. “Yes! That’s it. That’s the attitude I want. Now take that, and put it into the entire song.” Sweetie Belle nodded to the band to start playing.

The guitar chord rang out, the then second one, and the keyboard came in, loud, overpowering the guitars and drums, giving a very eerie feeling to the song. The second keyboard chord echoed the first.

Sweetie Belle waved everyone to stop. “Yes, that’s it!”

“We are going to rock Ponyville tomorrow!” squealed Dos-à-Dos.

“Okay!” yelled Sweetie Belle, getting everyone’s attention “I know it’s getting late, but I want to run through the second song one more time.”

Everyone groaned, myself included. “Sweetie, we got this. If we keep going we’ll be worn out before the show.”

Sweetie nodded. “I know, but I had last minute inspiration—”

“No you don’t,” I said, cutting her off. “It’s perfect, you’re perfect, we’re all perfect. We should not be making changes the night before.”

“But we should, like, totally hear her out, man,” said Glimour. “That’s totally what bands do before a gig. Then we could, like, you know… vote on it, man.”

“Man? What in tarnation?” I muttered. “Alright, what’s your idea?”

“I want to sing it in a lower register.”

“Oh, that’s easy. We got you, Sweetie Belle. You can, like, practice that without them or, like, totally doing the entire gig and stuff.”

Everytime Glimour spoke, he sounded miles away. His cadence was slow and uneven. I first thought he was drunk all the time, but he didn’t seem to drink. Not around us. He did eat a lot of these candies he kept in his guitar case.

“Okay, we can practice it a little,” said Sweetie. She turned to face the rest of us. “Tomorrow is the big day. I know I’ve been hard on you, I know I’ve been… a pain in the ass, but what we have is so much better than the smutty show someone wanted us to do. We are going to surprise Ponyville tomorrow! We are going to rock Equestria like no pony ever has! And we are going to stick it to the music industry while we do it!”

“Stick it to the man!” yelled Glimour, as we all stomped our hooves and cheered.

As the dancers left, I of course remained behind since it meant changing my vocals too. But after a few practices, it was clear the change was easy, and we were all out of there ten minutes later.

“Nervous?” asked Sweetie Belle. We were walking down the road. It was dark out, the air was warm and smelled of dry grass. It was a perfect summer night.

I gave her a long look before answering. “You know, for the first time, I’m not nervous about the show. I am a little worried about the pyrotechnics—are you sure that spell will hold?”

“Yes,” said Sweetie Belle, sounding expasterated. “You are starting to sound like Rarity.”

“Okay, okay. I’m just making sure.”

We reached the intersection where I had to go one way to return to Sweet Apple Acres, and Sweetie had to go the other to get to her parent’s.

“Well…” said Sweetie. “I guess this is good night.”

She was looking into my eyes, and my heart was pounding for some reason. The moonlight reflected off her, giving her bright-white coat a soft hue. She looked so beautiful. She looked—to borrow a phrase from Rarity—simply divine.

“Yep,” I blurted out, ruining the moment. I resisted the urge to facehoof. “I-I mean, yeah, but I will see you in the morning.”

“It’s so nice out,” said Sweetie Belle. “If we didn’t have a show tomorrow, I might have asked you to take a walk with me.”

My heart was exploding out of my chest. Was she trying to ask me on a date?

“Yes!” I clapped my hoof over my mouth. “I-I mean, that would be nice.”

Sweetie Belle giggled. “You’re funny sometimes. Anyway, have a good night.”

“You too,” I said, while cursing myself under my breath. “Oh and, Sweetie!”

“Yeah?” She turned to face me.

“Thanks for making me part of this. Whatever happens tomorrow, I just want you to know, it’s been fun.”

Sweetie Belle returned the widest and cutest smile I had ever seen. “Good night.”

I skipped home. The last few weeks were rough, and that vile script still occupied my mind once in a while. I only hoped the copy Sweetie Belle destroyed was the only copy.

The farm looked so pretty at night. Dozens of apple trees silhouetted against the moon light, light breeze, and the smell of fresh-cut grass, gave the feeling of absolute tranquility. On nights like this, I used to sit on the front porch and listen to the wind. Sometimes AJ joined me. But, tonight, I was too tired, and a lot was happening tomorrow.

The house still had a light on downstairs, but I didn’t think much of it. Applejack usually left it on for me. As I approached the house, though, I saw her sitting on the porch.

“There you are!” she said as soon as I was close enough.

“Howdy, sis,” I said brightly.

“Hey yourself. Do you have any idea how late it is?

I shook my head. “Sorry, sis. Last rehearsal before our big show tomorrow.”

Applejack sighed. “I know. It just feels like I ain’t seen you at all these past few weeks.”

I considered telling Applejack about everything that had happened, about Talent Scout, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Besides, we had it under control.

“You two have been extra secretive about this one,” Applejack continued. “But that poster has got me wonderin.’

“Pinkie reckons the show will be unlike anything Ponyville has ever seen.” Applejack smiled. “But don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything about it,” said Applejack quickly.

I nodded. Ponyville had seen its share of strange, most of it coming from Pinkie, so it wasn’t nothing when she said something like that. “Do you like the name of this show?”

Applejack nodded. “I see ya’ll doin’ something different this time.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that was Sweetie’s idea to do a different show and theme every week.” I stretched my back, turning side-to-side. “I’m really tired, sis. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, Apple Bloom.”

The next morning passed in a blurr. I woke up later than normal, ate breakfast, and found myself at the city center, setting up for the show without any concept of the passage of time.

Sweetie Belle was already running in circles making more changes, much to everyone’s annoyance.

“Sweetie Belle!” Dos-à-Dos screamed. “Just stop!”

“Just one more thing!” yelled Sweetie. “Okay, I want the red lights to come up two seconds later, and I need them to track forward.” Sweetie Belle told the lighting tech pony.

“You got it,” he said, and left for the control room, above the balcony.

“Okay, I need to set markers on the stage for positions… I’m thinking if we all don’t move as far forward—”

“Sweetie Belle!” Dos-à-Dos yelled again.

Sweetie Belle huffed. “I need this to be flawless! You don’t know how much is riding on this!”

I walked over to Dos-à-Dos before she could say anything else. “It won’t do any good to yell at her,” I said softly.

“I know, but if she keeps changing shit, none of us will know what’s going on during the actual show.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I said. Dos-à-Dos did have a point. It was hard to keep track of the new changes from the last two days.

“Hey, Sweetie,” I said softly. I wrapped a foreleg around her. “Why don’t you take a break?” She was very tense, but she did seem to relent a little.

“I-I need to—”

“Shhh. Everything is fine. You’ve put more into this than anything, but if you keep changing things, none of us will know what we’re even supposed to be doing tonight.”

Sweetie Belle relaxed into my embrace, some of that tension seemed to melt away. “Apple Bloom…” she said with a sigh. “You’re right. I’m just so worked up… no more changes. I mean it this time.”

“Come, sit down, and have a short break before we run through everything for a final time.” I steered her to the edge of the stage, where we sat. She rested her head on my shoulder.

“Life is crazy sometimes,” said Sweetie Belle. “Never would I have dreamed of making something like this… Thank you, Apple Bloom, for being a part of this. You helped me make a dream come true.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I could see the lighting tech pony though the little window far above the top balcony. He seemed to be testing the lighting as various stage lights would come on and then go out.

Dos-à-Dos took a seat next to me. “So are we gonna run through this thing one more time or do you love birds need a few more minutes?”

Sweetie Belle stood up, leaving a vast coolness on my shoulder. “Yeah,” she said quickly. Her face was bright red.

I glared at Dos-à-Dos.

“What?” She smiled innocently.

I rolled my eyes. “Alright let's do this!”

The final rehearsal went flawlessly. All of Sweetie’s last minute changes were, admittingly, improvements. I wasn’t going to say anything to her until the end of the show, so she doesn’t get any more ideas.

“Alright, that was great. We got this! Dance team, you’re on point. Band, you guys are perfect. Wright Note, you’re killing it. Pinkie, the sound effects are perfect, Dos-à-Dos, Apple Bloom, everyone, thank you. I couldn’t have come this far without any of you.

“I just want to warn you all that Talent Scout is going to be pretty pissed off once he’s seen what we’ve done. In fact there’s no way he doesn’t already know something is up because of the posters all over town.” Sweetie Belle paused and shrugged. “This might be my last show because of this, so why not go out with style? But we are better than a bunch of fillies in tight spandex shaking our tails to a lame backing track. Let’s rock this town!”

We all cheered. My chest was pounding. I was ready!

“Alright, let’s start getting costumes ready. I want everyone in costume in the next hour.”

“Hey, Sweetie,” said Dos-à-Dos. “I’m sorry for yelling earlier. The stress was getting to me too.”

“It’s alright. I really did need to stop. I was stuck in this infinite loop of fine adjustments.”

“Hey, Sweetie,” I said quietly. “What if Talent Scout comes back here before the show? He’s going to see all of this and know.”

Sweetie Belle smiled. “The doors to backstage are locked. And I told security not to let anyone in back there. Besides, he got a balcony seat with his producer lackeys, he won’t come back here. He never hung out backstage during the Filly-Tonix shows. The directors wouldn’t allow it.”

I wasn’t totally reassured. He had already been backstage during our last two shows. Sure the first one was so he could introduce us, but the second show, he didn’t bother to get a seat… or stay for the whole show. But maybe he feels he won and just wants to watch me be a dumb hick for Ponyville. Either way, I hope this is the last time we have to ever deal with him.

The stage was set, all of the props were in place, and the curtains were down. Sweetie Belle had given the okay to start allowing ponies to come in. In a matter of minutes, the audience chamber was filled with the loud drone of hundreds of conversations overlapping.

“Oooh! It’s gonna be packed to standing room!” exclaimed Pinkie Pie.

Sweetie Belle came out of the costume room wearing a tight silver leotard, similar to the ones the hip-hop dance team wore. “Okay, I’m a little nervous about the pyrotechnics.” Her horn lit up, and her whole body was covered in a green aura for a second. “The only part we didn’t practice… let’s just hope the spell holds.”

Ugh, now she’s worried about it? Figures.“You got this. We know the spell is good,” I said mechanically.

Sweetie Belle covered up with a black robe. “I know… still…”

Looking through the peep-hole on the side of the stage, I could tell there wasn’t a seat left in the house. In the left balcony I saw Twilight, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Spike, and Scootaloo. In the right balcony I saw Talent Scout and a few other ponies I assumed were producers.

“Ten minutes,” hissed Sweetie. “Positions, everypony. Where’s Dos-à-Dos?”

“Here,” said Dos-à-Dos, rushing out of the costume room. She had just tied up her mane into a bun. She wore a pantsuit, and looked professional and darn sexy. Apparently Sweetie Belle thought so too, as I caught her giving Dos-à-Dos an approving look.

I remained by the peep-hole. I wasn’t in the first song, and I wanted to watch the look on Talent Scout’s face.

Dos-à-Dos took a seat behind a massive wooden desk. The house lights went down, and the conversations died immediately. The stage lights came up and then the curtain, revealing Dos-à-Dos in business casual attire sitting behind a huge desk.

Sweetie Belle entered the stage from the opposite side. She stopped right in front of the desk.

“Hello!” shouted Sweetie Belle. “Did you like my audition?”

“Ah, so want to be a star, don’t you, filly?” said Dos-à-Dos.

“I do. I can sing really well and dance.”

“Well isn’t that just adorable,” said Dos-à-Dos in the most patronizing voice.

I couldn’t resist. I looked through the peep-hole up to the right balcony. Talent Scout looked cross. He was glaring at the stage. A few of his producer friends looked confused.

“I-I just want to be famous,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Well alright then! First things first,” said Dos-à-Dos.

The drums and bass guitar started playing quick music phrases. Next came the guitar, giving the song a heavy sound.

“Yes?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“To make you a star we have some work to do.” Dos-à-Dos picked up a cigar off her desk. She lit it with a quick spark from her horn, and took a drag, blowing the smoke in Sweetie’s face.

Then the heavily distorted keyboard chimed in, playing a four-note melody phrase. Then a second phrase containing higher notes, giving the song a call and answer feeling to it.

“First, lose the clothes, filly,” said Dos-à-Dos, as she stripped away the robes, revealing Sweetie Belle’s silver leotard. “Lose a few pounds and learn to shake those hindquarters!”

“But-but, why?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“You silly filly, you want to be a star! Just sign this contract!” She held up a long scroll of parchment and a fountain pen.

“I’m not so sure,” said Sweetie, really hamming up the uncertainty.

Dos-à-Dos shook her head as the keyboard rift finished, and began singing. Her voice was more mid ranged, but she aimed for the lower register. Her vocals were clear and haunting.

Come in here, dear girl, have a cigar,

Dos-à-Dos gave the cigar to Sweetie, who held it cluelessly.

You're gonna go far,

You're gonna fly high,

You're never gonna die,

You're gonna make it if you try,

They're gonna love you.

I've always had a deep respect and I mean that most sincere;

The band is just fantastic, that is really what I think,

Oh, by the way, which one's Belle?

And did we tell you the name of the game, girl?

We call it "Riding The Gravy Train".

Dos-à-Dos held the last note, matching perfectly with the synth.

We're just knocked out.

We heard about the sell out.

You're gonna get an album out,

You owe it to the ponies,.

We're so happy we can hardly count.

Everybody else is just green,

Have you seen the chart?

It's a hell of a start,

It could be made into a monster,

If we all pull together as a team.

And did we tell you the name of the game, girl?
We call it "Riding The Gravy Train".

Dos-à-Dos held the last note extra long. Her vocals were impressive. The keyboard rift played one more time before cutting out and letting the guitars finish the song.

Dos-à-Dos thrust the contract into Sweetie’s face. Sweetie picked up the fountain pen with her magic and did a mock signing of the parchment. Immediately after, Sweetie Belle burst into flames, which engulf her completely. The entire audience gasped with shock as the curtain went down. Sweetie quickly extinguished the fire, stripped her leotard off, and put on a black leather coat and sunglasses.

I was in position, wearing my black leather coat, wayfarer sunglasses, and a black mane bow.

Before the audience had time to process what they say, Pinkie Pie started the sound effects: metal clanking and white noise. It sounded like a factory. Then a soft pulsing from the bass guitar started.

Sweetie and I quickly took our positions behind the curtain right as that dramatic guitar chord rang out. The curtain raised, and a blue spotlight showed on us. We stepped forward to the two mics. A second guitar chord rang out, and then another. A thick layer of fog covered the floor of the stage. And then the fourth chord. And then Sweetie began to sing in a voice much lower than her normal singing voice.

Welcome my friends
Welcome to the machine!
Sweetie Belle really pushed her volume on the last word.
Where have you been?
It’s alright we know where you’ve been!
I pushed hard with my diaphragm to match Sweetie’s intensity.

Wright Note slammed his hooves into the keyboard, making it drown out our vocals as he held the chord for a whole count.

You’ve been in the pipeline filling your time!
Provided with toys and scouting for boys!
Another chord rang out.
You bought a guitar to punish your ma!
A slightly higher chord sang out, increasing the tension.
And you didn’t like school!
And you know you’re nobody’s fool!
Wright Note played an ever higher chord.

So Welcome to the machine!
I sang with all of my might as we competed for loudness with the keyboard. Glimour started vamping on two different chords, strumming to a very strong four count beat as the drums started. He emphasized every first beat to get an extra marching feeling out of the song.

Another curtain went up, revealing a monstrosity of gears and levers. The keyboard howled over the rest of the song. Out of either side of the machine, ponies in robes stepped out. They moved abruptly and machine-like. Their backs were to the audience. A red light from above showed on them as the fog picked up, creating a red haze across the entire stage.

As the keyboard began a solo, and Pinkie Pie increased the sound effects to include some high-pitched squeals, the ponies begane to move in unison, marching in place, sparks flew out from under their feet with every step.

Slowly they turned on the spot to face the audience. They began to march forward. Out of the fog marched ten hooded ponies abreast, all of their faces concealed behind a thick back gas mask with a black canister protruding out the front. The hoods of their robes completely concealed their manes.

Welcome my friends!
Welcome to the machine!
What did you dream?
It’s alright we told you what to dream!
My voice strained, my throat was starting to hurt.

You dreamt of a big star!
She played a mean guitar!
Always smoked big cigars!
She loved to drive in her Jaguar!

So welcome to the machine!

My voice was done. Sweetie Belle’s voice was raw power screaming against the keyboard Wright Note was slamming his hooves into.

The dancers were right beside us now, marching in place. They keyboard howled with another solo, the distortion increasing as it went.

In a flash of light and smoke, me and Sweetie’s outfits were switched with dark robes and a gas mask.

So welcome to the machine!

The curtain fell, the music stopped. It was dead silent. We all pulled our masks down to look at eachother. And then an eruption of noise emanated from the audience. Lots of hoof stomping, lots of yelling, lots of whistling. We quickly removed our costumes and left the stage.

“Not quite the reaction I thought we’d get,” I said, hoarsely.

“It’s fine,” said Sweetie. “We made our point.” She hugged me tightly. “We did it!” Then she bounced over to Dos-à-Dos and hugged her. “And you did great with the first song!”

I peeked through the peep-hole. Talent Scout looked livid while the other producer ponies were grinning ear-to-ear. In the left balcony, Applejack and Rarity were in an intense conversation as they lined up to exit the box. Scootaloo was hovering with excitement.

The noise from the house didn’t die down as ponies filed out to leave. Some were still in their seats with looks of shock on their faces.

We went back to the costume room to hang up our costumes. I was smiling at Sweetie Belle. “TS doesn’t look too happy.”

“Good,” spat Sweetie.

We were riding high on our victory. I couldn’t wait to read the review for this show. It was definitely going to be interesting. I was too overjoyed to even care if the reviews were terrible. But it was short lived.

“Sweetie Belle!” a loud voice boomed from backstage. “Get out here!”

The door to the costume room flew open and an irate Talent Scout marched through. “Do you think you’re funny, huh!” he shouted. “You’re done! Forever! I’m seizing all revenue from this show, and all others!”

“You can’t,” said Sweetie calmly. “It’s a different production company with a different patron.”

Talent Scout shook his head. “You dumb filly. You think you can make a mockery of me? Do you? You stupid bitch! I own you! I! Own! You!” he screamed. “And if you had half a brain in you, you’d be on your knees under my desk begging for another shot! You owe me! I gave you everything! You owe me!”

I marched right up into his face. “It’s over! Take your bits and leave!”

“And you! Dumb country hick! I was nice giving you that part! But you can forget it!”

I laughed harshly. “You think I’d want to do that shit? Sweetie was so disgusted she incinerated your pile of trash script! And how dare you take a shot at my family!”

Dos-à-Dos and the others were standing back, nervous of the shouting match.

“You will never touch Sweetie again!” I yelled, feeling braver than I was.

“She signed on, I own her!” he spat. “Oh Talent Scout,” he said in a horrifying high-pitched voice. “You’re so much nicer than the other producers. Oh Talent Scout, please make me famous. I can sing like Silver Serenade.” He spat and smiled viciously. “I owned Silver Serenade too. She did what I told her to do and when!” His eyes met mine. “And you’re trash! And when I get done with Sweetie, I’ll make sure the only shows you get are in the Manehatten slums, turning tricks for bits!”

He reached out to put a hoof on a frightened looking Sweetie Belle. His hoof slowly made its way back toward her tail. “Now, come to my office, and apologize,” he said forcefully.

“I’m going to get help.” I heard someone say in the background.

That was it! That was the last straw! In a fury, I spun around so fast, landing a hard kick square on his chest, making him yelp in pain. He slid back a little, but remained standing. The next thing I knew I was hit by a hot bolt of magic in the hindquarters knocking me to the ground. It hurt like a kick from a mule. It stung and burned.

Several ponies screamed “Fight! There’s a fight! Help!”

Sweetie ran toward me, but Talent Scout fired a shot, just missing her, leaving some singed mane on her head. She screamed and bolted out the side door. Talent Scout tore right after her, yelling more obscenities as he chased her.

“What in tarnation is going on here?”

I was vaguely aware of Applejack’s voice as I got up, trying to ignore the pain, and ran after them. I hobbled down a long hall with a set of stairs at the end: the stairs to the control room.

Without thinking about it, I flung myself up the stairs, taking two or three at a time, each jump hurting more than the last. At the top, Sweetie Belle was up against the farthest wall, taking partial cover behind a lighting control board. Her horn illuminated, ready to fire.

“Get away from me!” she squeaked. Her horn fired a bolt of energy. Talent Scout quickly blocked it. Sweetie’s horn sparked and fizzled out. She concentrated, trying to cast another spell, but she was too panicked, as she continuously tried to back herself into the wall behind her.

“You’re coming with me,” he snarled. He grabbed her with his magic, pulling her off the wall.

“Let her go!” I shouted. I charged at him. I was going to leap and kick him as hard as I could. I was almost there. I leaped. His eyes met mine, mid-air, and I knew it was all over. His magic dropped Sweetie Belle, and fired a large bolt straight into my gut. It felt like Big Mac kicked me in the stomach as I was knocked off course with such force. The air had left my lungs, I was gasping but couldn’t breath. I barely had time to shield my face as I crashed into the glass window. I flailed about trying to grab onto something. There was nothing. I was falling. I heard a scream, a loud crack, then nothing.