Chapter 1
“Fluttershy!”
“R-Rarity?” The butter-yellow pegasus stirred at the sound of her name.
“Fluttershy, please open up!”
“H-hold on. I’m coming.” Fluttershy stretched until her neck gave a tiny, satisfying pop and cast a curious glance at the clock sitting on her nightstand. “What time is it, Rarity? My alarm doesn’t normally go off until—“
“I don’t care,” Rarity sobbed from outside Fluttershy’s door. “Please, just let me in.”
“Are you… alright?” Fluttershy asked, walking more briskly towards the door, being careful not to step on any small, sleeping creatures.
“No! For Celestia’s sake, I am not alright! I am very much the opposite of alright! I am in despair, distress, and very, very scared!”
Fluttershy opened the door to receive a tear-drenched hug from her friend. “O-oh my goodness! What’s wrong, Rarity?”
“I-it’s Trenderhoof,” Rarity started, taking a deep breath as Fluttershy led her to a comfortable seat. “H-he’s— I found h-him—“
“Found him? Well, that’s a good thing, right?” Fluttershy replied, smiling nervously.
“He’s dead! I-I-I don’t know how, o-o-or why, but he’s dead!”
—
The rest of the seven arrived within the hour, each of them showing signs of missing sleep; Twilight and Rainbow Dash both had horrible cases of bed-head, Applejack’s eyes had dark circles under them, Pinkie’s could hardly keep themselves open, and Spike was still sleeping, curled up on Twilight’s back. “Oh, thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Fluttershy said. “Rarity has some… troubling news to share with us.”
“If this is some distress call over your favourite fashion magazine being cancelled, could it have waited until the sun was fully up?” Rainbow Dash asked, laying on the ground, spread-eagle.
“Rainbow—!” Twilight scolded.
“I-It’s not. Not directly anyways,” Rarity replied, reaching for another tissue. “Y-you see, Tr-Trenderhoof—“
“Wait, the fashion pony who had a thing for me for about three days and you tried to be like me in order to impress him? Isn’t he history now?” Applejack asked, making Rarity sob with more voracity.
“He definitely couldn’t be more “history” than he is now, thank you for asking, Applejack!” replied Rarity vehemently.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Trenderhoof is dead!”
This announcement excited horrified gasps from everyone but Spike, who slept on.
“Spike!” Twilight hissed, nudging him with a wing.
“Huh? Whoa… am I dreaming about the evil robotic experiment that was hidden in Fluttershy’s basement again?” Spike replied upon opening his eyes. “Hang on, I know where the corrosive isotopes are this time so that we can inject it into his mainframe before he—“
“What? No! Rarity’s just told us that Trenderhoof is dead!” Twilight replied.
“The fashion pony with glasses?” Spike asked, more awake now. “I thought he was in Manehatten critiquing a dress line.”
Rainbow Dash and Applejack exchanged a slightly bemused glance.
“He’s not going to be in Manehatten, I’m afraid,” Applejack said, breaking the awkward silence that followed.
“Oh! Did his train get delayed?” Spike’s question elicited more sobbing from Rarity. “Aw, it’s okay, Rarity. He can probably get a special request to review at a different time.”
“He’s d-dead, Spike,” Rarity croaked.
“Oh my gosh!” Spike said. “Why? How? Who? When? Where?”
“Spike… maybe this isn’t the best time to be asking those questions,” Twilight suggested.
“Oh, right… Sorry. It’s just that… Wow. I didn’t see that coming,” Spike said.
“I don’t think any of us did. Planning parties is fun and all, but—“ Pinkie stopped mid-sentence to allow space for a yawn. “—planning a funeral? You’re not allowed to have fun. You have to be all solemn and such because it’s — as I recall one pony putting it — rude. Disrespectful was another word that they used along with a lot of others that I’d get in trouble for repeating in front of anypony. Then again, maybe since it’s just us i—“
Pinkie got no farther, Applejack having closed her mouth for her. “I don’t think we need to know right this second, Pinkie,” Applejack said.
“Oh, heavens knows I have enough words for whatever bastard is responsible for this!” Rarity added. She had curled up on the far side of Fluttershy’s couch and faced away from the group.
“That was one of the words they used!” Pinkie blurted out.
“Which one?” Rarity asked with a shuddering voice.
“You know which one. The one I’m not allowed to repeat,” Pinkie replied matter-of-factly.
“Is there anything we can do to help you, Rarity?” Fluttershy asked.
“Ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream. And maybe if you could bring the pony responsible for dear Trendy’s death so I can punch his sorry little skull in, I’d be delighted.”
“Trendy—?” ventured Rainbow Dash as Spike took off in search of Rarity’s desired comfort food.
“Don’t ask!” Rarity snapped.
“You two weren’t—“
“I said don’t ask! Please, Rainbow Dash. I know it seems rude of me to ask, but drop the subject and don’t ask about it again! It is as Applejack put it: history.”
Rainbow Dash smirked slightly to herself.
“Rarity, you do realize that anything you tell us helps us understand everything a little better,” Twilight said.
“You don’t need to know everything, Twilight.” Rarity glared at the group behind her.
“Alright, alright… Wait… did you report this to the town hall?” Twilight asked, casting an almost involuntary glance at the clock on the wall.
“No, I came straight here. I-I wasn’t thinking. Sorry, Fluttershy for barging in like this, I just… didn’t know who to run to!”
“Oh, it’s quite alright, Rarity—“
“So you just left the dead body there?!”
“No! I made a rug out of his pelt, of course I left it there, Twilight! What else do you think I’d do? Stop on my way here and say “there’s a dead pony in my living room by the way. Send somepony to check on it and get me a double tall latte with an extra shot of caramel while you’re at it?!”
“That’s not what I meant at all!”
“Well it sounded like it!”
“I di—“ Twilight facehoofed. “What I’m getting at here is that you didn’t tell Sweetie Belle. She’s going to wake up and find a dead pony in her living room.”
“Actually, no. She stayed over at Sweet Apple Acres with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom,” Applejack informed them. “All three were asleep when I left and I reckon they’ll still be asleep, judging by the hour they were still up chatting away about ways to get their cutie marks.”
—
“Are you sure this is a good idea, sneaking in like this?” Sweetie Belle asked. Scootaloo was standing on Apple Bloom’s back, trying to open a window towards the back of the boutique.
“Sure it is. It’s your house, isn’t it?” Scootaloo replied nonchalantly.
“Well… My name’s not officially on the mortgage—“
Scootaloo waved a dismissive hoof. “Not like that silly. I mean, you live here. Who can get in trouble for trying to break into their own house. Apple Bloom, hand me a screwdriver, would you?”
Apple Bloom yawned. “I still think this could have waited until later in the morning.”
“Aww, but Rarity would be awake by then and it would ruin our chance at getting our cutie marks in—“
“Breaking and entering?” Sweetie Belle proposed.
“No! At being ninjas!”
“Didn’t we already try that?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Yes, we tried that, but I think we took the wrong angle. Besides, won’t it just be so sweet to see your sister’s reaction when we surprise her with our noisemakers?”
“Well…” Sweetie Belle started. The three looked at the old party favours and noisemakers that they had brought along with them. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Great! Now hand me that screwdriver, Apple Bloom.”
A hand (or hoof) ful of minutes and a very badly bent window frame later, the trio entered the boutique and head upstairs as quietly as possible.
“SURPRISE!” They shouted and blew on their noisemakers as loudly as possible.
“She’s… not here?” Apple Bloom said. Opal gave the young intruders a cynical glare before curling back up and trying to sleep.
“I guess not,” Sweetie Belle said, moving the tousled covers back. “Rarity?”
“Be on your guard guys. She might have seen us coming and set up her own surprise for us,” Scootaloo said, glancing around warily.
“Let’s get out of here,” Apple Bloom said, making her way for the staircase. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle didn’t hesitate to follow her. “Front door or back the way we came?”
“Front door. It seems less suspicious,” Scootaloo decided.
Sweetie Belle spotted their goal from the staircase. “The door’s open,” she commented, frowning.
“Whoa…” Scootaloo breathed.
“What?”
“What is it?”
The sun was just starting to peek over the hills, giving the room and the fillies colour. Scootaloo’s normally orange face had paled. “Th-that’s qu-quite the surprise. Eheh…” She pointed to a large form spread out on the ground, blood pooling underneath of it.
At that moment six ponies and a dragon came rushing through the door, each of them gasping in surprise at Trenderhoof’s prone form splayed out on the ground. In reaction to the abrupt entrance, the Cutie Mark Crusaders did what any normal schoolfilly would do at that moment: they screamed.
Author's Note
Yes, I did say the rest of the seven. I consider Spike to be just as much of a main character in the series as the six ponies.
