Sweetie Belle Doesn't Earn Her Singing Cutie Mark

by Super Trampoline

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Adventure
Length: 2250

Sweetie Belle recounts to her grandfoals the time she wandered into Diamond Dog territory and didn't get her cutie mark.

Sweetie Belle recounts to her grandfoals the time she wandered into Diamond Dog territory and didn't get her cutie mark.

Warning: Contains Feghoot.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-10-22 19:58:03 UTC

Feghoot

Alright alright, foals and kids, gather round, it's story time with your Great Aunt Sweetie.

Hmm? Well, yes, I know I'm your grandmother. Am I everypony elses, too? No, I'm their great aunt. And I intend to be a great great aunt.

Yes, you have to sit and listen to the stories. The rest of the adults are playing poker, so it's my job to guard you terrors. No, I can't play poker. I have a terrible tell. What is it? I go *SQUEE* when I get a good hoof. Terribly obvious. I value my bits. Besides, y'all are cooler anyway.

Hey, Topal, I see you! No, you can't hide in the pantry! 'Sides, you're looking a little pudgy, Mr. What, no, I'm just calling it how I see it. A good friend of my sister always drilled into my skull the importance of honesty. And honestly, you're fat.

No no no, come on now, don't cry. Okay that was a little mean. I'm sorry. I say stupid stuff like that. Alright, I'll start the story. What sorta story you kids want to hear?

Yes, kids means young'uns. It also can specifically mean little goats like you, Billy. It's a homophone. A homophone is… Yeah, me, dictionary, I've heard it before. So then, story. What do you guys want? Action? Adventure? Romance?

Hey hey hey, make those gagging sounds now. I know I used to too. But I promise you'll change your tune in the future. Just don't go into histrionics like Rarity did. My sister could dramatize with the best of them.

Me? A story about me? You think I have interesting stories to tell? Well you're right, I do. I've seen a lot in my lifetime. That kind of happens when your sister, well, is Rarity, and your ex--may he forever rot in... nevermind, moving on.

Shh shh shh! Yes. I know Flash is here. That's the other reason I'm not playing poker. Just because I hate him is no reason not to be civil. Come on, let's focus on storytime. I have some stories. And I just thought of the perfect one. This one's about the time I didn't earn my cutie mark.

Ha! Nah, this isn't that type of story. You wanna hear about that? You gotta go visit Uncle Bad Horse. I only tell wholesome stories."

What's that?... Yes, of course. I've done more than my share of unwholesome things in my life. I'm a Cutie Mark Councilor, ain't I? And before that I was one of the original crusaders. Doesn't mean you're going to hear about those exploits. They make Forget-Me-So spells for a reason.

Right then. Enough stalling. This is, "Sweetie Belle Doesn't Earn Her Singing Cutie Mark"

So back in the day, way back, mind you, I was a lot dumber than I am now. And that's saying something. My gals AB and Scoots, we'd go on all sorts of stupid adventures. Quite miraculous we never killed ourselves, to be honest. But that's neither here nor there, because in this case I was especially stupid: I went adventuring by myself. Now why is that a bad idea?

That's right, Bellesmith. Nopony or goat wants their kid returned home as a bag-o-bones. Soloing is just asking for trouble. Always take a buddy. That's an important lesson. Friendship is Magic and all that smooth jazz.

Anyway, this was a few months after Trixie had her run in with the Diamond Dogs. Trixie? Oh, she's a straight up B. Real full of herself. I hear she's mellowed out a bit. Old age will do that to you. Don't grow old, kids. It sucks. What's a B? Oh, I ain't telling that. Again, you want the dirty versions, go ask your uncle. No, get back here. Not now! He's playing poker!

Right, so Rarity had had a bad run in with some miscreant mutts previously, and Rainbow Dash--you know, that old Pegasus who came to Pinkie's 75th b-day?--she had just bailed Trixie out from this other pack. Hardly better, the mangy lot of them.

Me, speciest? Nah, I respect a lot of them. Just not these ones Rare and Trix got mixed up with. The ones I came across were pretty cool. Oh my, I'm getting ahead of myself.

So after all this clamber, I figure, gee warlock, there's gotta be some good dogs around somewhere. So I hit up Auntie Twilight. Yes, that Twilight. Alicorn Princess of Friendship. She's also a huge nerd. Don't say it to her face. She'll only agree and then start lecturing on the perks and benefits of nerdyness. She even has pamphlets. Mare's too organized for her own good. Pamphlet? It's one of those little folded paper thingies that tells all about the Haywaiian Isles your parents are escapin' to to get some R&R away from you squirts. Yeah, yeah, sorta like a map, sure.

So I talked to Twilight--and mind you, this is back when she still lived in a tree--and she--that's right it was destroyed by Tirek. A school project? My condolences. As I was saying, Twilight hooked me up with a book on Diamond Dog culture, and apparently there was a breakaway pack a good forty miles south of Ponyville, living in the mountains. So I figured I'd pay them a visit, see what the hubbub was about.

Yes, it was a stupid idea in retrospect. But you know how you get when an idea seed germinates into an idea tree in your head. It's all you can think about. No, not literally. It's a metaphor. It's like... when one thing stands for another. Like, if you say, "my mom has griffon eyes," it's a metaphor. Your mom didn't spoon the eyeballs of some poor griffon out; you just shouldn't have been so damn obvious when you stuffed that extra cookie into your saddlebag.

All I could think about was that I was gonna go and meet some Diamond Dogs who where actual nice creatures. And I'd tell them about Rarity, and they'd be impressed and they'd hire her for the extra help in finding gems, and she'd get extra bits and I'd get a swell Hearth Warming present.

I know, I know, but when you're young, you come up with stupid schemes like that. So I told Rarity the filly scouts were goin' on a camping trip that weekend. Classic fib. It worked like a--A fib is a fabrication. An untruth. A lie.

No, I most certainly am not telling you to lie. I would never encourage such behavior. Foals, don't lie. Lying is bad. 'Coulda gotten me killed. Yeah, adults ruin all your fun when you tell the truth, I know, trust me. But they're just looking out for ya'.

So I told Rarity I was going camping and needed supplies. Now, back then, when Rarity "camped", she needs a whole caravan to carry all her stuff. So she had more than enough supplies for me. I don't remember all of what I packed, mostly just that I took way too many PB&J sandwiches. Good things, those sandwiches. And a harmonica. Don't know why I brought that, but I figured if I was gonna be sittin' round the camp fire by myself, I might as well have some entertainment. Okay, so I guess I do know why I brought that. Anyway, moving on.

I had been saving up my bits for a new My Tiny Gecko doll, so I had enough for a train ticket. Friday morning, my mom walked me to the train station. I remember her asking me why I was the only filly there at seven am in the morning. I told her that she had taught me that "timeliness is next to cleanliness and cleanliness is next to princesshood." She ate it right up. My mom... she loved me. And Rarity too. That I know. She was just kind of always a bit flighty. Oblivious maybe? I don't know. Have I been flighty and oblivious? I've tried my best not to be. I hope I've succeeded. I think I have. I mean yeah, I was pretty airheaded for the few years after the funeral. That happens. I'm okay now. I rarely even cry about it anymore.

Off topic? Year, sorry, I wax nostalgic a lot. I miss my sister. You can respect that, can't ya? Ain't any of you ever had a pet die or something. It's like that, but worse.

Oh come on, don't start with the tears. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll get on with it. Sheez, give an old mare a break for showing some emotion.

Where was I? My mom? No, before that. Oh, right, the train station. So my mom dotes on me and hugs me goodbye and all that, and finally I shoo her off. The train came at eight. Have you ever had to sit and occupy yourself for an hour? I know how long the hours grow now, so believe me when I say I know what y'all buggers are going through when you're bored at a wedding or something. Fortunately I had brought a comic book I had stolen from Spike.

Did I say steal? So I did. Fine. Borrowed from Spike. That sooth your conscience? Steal, it's a... what's the word? No no no, give me a moment. Give the pony dictionary time to think. It's a... colloquialism? It can mean a lot of in exact things. No! Look, I gave the frosting comic book back, okay?

Fine, you need to pee that badly? Go use the darned water closet. But don't come crying to me when you miss half my story. There are no brakes on the story train.

So speaking of trains, it finally comes, and I finally get on. Yeah, it's a Friday morning train, but it's heading away from Canterlot. And besides, Ponyville wasn't really the satellite city it is now. Lot less ponies back then. No, I'm not gonna harp on "Back in my day!" So there aren't too many ponies there. Didn't have to squeeze in like sardines or anything.

Oh yeah, you kids haven't really been outside the kingdom too much have yah. Well, don't freak out or anything, but some creatures eat meat. Crazy, I know. Like griffins, for example. Especially fish. You every meet a griffin who doesn't like fish, you ought'a be suspicious. Sardines are these little fish they pack in tin cans. Okay, well, know what, Sea Mist? Not everypony has to have the same tastes as you. Maybe you'll expand your tastes sometime.

So we're, well, I'm on the train, and it's heading south to the diamond dog kingdom. Or republic or duchy or what ever the fetlock it was back then. I buried myself in the comic book and nopony bugged me. I mean, I'm usually pretty friendly, but I was on a mission!

Skip ahead a few hours, and the train drops me off in this Podunk little outpost in the middle of nowhere. There aren't enough pegasus, to single out one race in particular, so it's all arid and dry and what not. It's just a bunch of wooden shacks, more or less. Might still be, for all I know. Some things never change.

So I'm in this little town in the hoofhills of the Appaloosan Mountains, and you better believe I am ready to find some diamond dogs. You'd expect there would be some around, what with being so close to their territory and what not. So I wander around, find a general store or something. I trot in, and a few tough, down-and-out-looking ponies are loitering about. I go up to the stallion behind the counter, and I say something like, "Hey, where are the Diamond Dogs?", and he just freezes up.

For harmony's sake, Topal, stop taking everything so literally! It's a metaphor. We've been over this. It just means the guy stopped moving 'cause I spooked him out. All the ponies in earshot, in fact, plus a couple griffins and a mule, they, all just stop talking or shopping or whatever they're doing and turn and stare at me.

Of course, being the little sparkly naive doofus I was, I was just like, "What, I want to meet some diamond dogs. What's wrong with that?" Completely innocent. Like a... I don't know. I'm too lazy to come up with an appropriate metaphor. Give me a break. I'm old now.

The stallion squints and raises his eyebrows at the same time, like he's angry and dubious. He just tersely replies, "You won't find any of their kind here in this town.

So I was starting to get that this town wasn't all chummy-chummy with the D-Dogs. Unfortunately, divine providence had it that at that moment I came up with a really clever reply. Oh wow, look at the time. It's time for another life lesson! Well yes, Belle, just because somethin's fun, doesn't mean it can't be entertaining too. Today's life lesson is, "Think twice before you open your mouth." And it's good advice. Once a word leaves your mouth, ain't no shoveling it back in there. And words can do a lot of damage. Why, I remember--

Fine, fine, 'nother story for another day. Anyway, I said to the store clerk, "Why, are they all on vacation?"

"Really guys, I'm honored. And trust me, I'd love to sing for you, but you see, I'm afraid I'm just a little hoarse."