Supper of Scootaloo Stew

by Lucky Dreams

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Rainbow Dash, Comedy, Scootaloo, Slice of Life
Length: 1541

Rainbow Dash spends an evening winding up her adopted sister.

What joy, I've a treat for you:
A lovely warm dinner of Scootaloo stew.

It’s sweet and delicious,
I'm so sinfully kind.
I left in the hooves,
I hope you don’t mind.

With huge thanks to Bad Horse for pre-reading!

Published 2015-11-10 00:20:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-11-10 00:20:03 UTC

Don't forget to add salt

Me and my adopted sis were on vacation in Trottingham, in her Aunt Gloom Cloud’s house. Great Aunt Gloom Cloud: old school teacher, and owner of twelve cats, three tortoises, and one loud-mouthed parrot. She was five times winner of the Get Off My Lawn Monthly ‘Grimmest Frown’ competition. She had a cane for a cutie mark. She had a scowl like a zillion detentions.

“Scoots,” hissed Rainbow Dash, nudging me as her Aunt left the living room. “Be cool, li’l sis. Behave.”

“Hay! What did I do?”

Rainbow laughed. “What did you do? Are you tellin’ me you didn’t stick your tongue out at my aunt’s back when she went to the kitchen just now?”

Whatever weirdo granny-food Aunt Gloom Cloud was cooking up, you bet your life that, right then, you could’ve roasted it off my cheeks. Though there was no way I was behaving the whole vacation. Not in the most boring house in the world.

Then she said, “I didn’t wanna tell you this… she eats naughty kids, ya know.”

She looked super-serious. So I said, “No she doesn’t! Quit lying.”

But Rainbow pointed past the grandfather clock and above the fireplace, to a whole lotta photos of fillies and colts. All of ’em were smiling, or playing, or being huggled by Aunt Gloom Cloud.

“All naughty,” sighed Rainbow. “All fidgety. All loud. All bad. All cooked.”

“No they weren’t. Stop it.”

But she didn’t. “Scoots,” she said, “I wouldn’t lie about this. It’s true. Dead true. Look, you see that li’l colt on the end there? Name was Coco Bean, and I never saw him without chocolate all around his mouth.”

“What happened to him?”

Rainbow’s gaze flicked to a bowl of candy on the table, next to our lemonade. “He kept leaving wrappers lying around. So Aunt whacked him on the head and stuck him in the oven and turned him into sweets. Those sweets, in fact.”

Then she said to me:

I’ve a bowl of pony sweets!
I’ve a load of pony treats:

Toffee, taffy, licky, happy,
Sticky, snappy,
Chewsome!

Gummy, runny, in my tummy,
Foal so yummy,
Juicesome!

Jelly, jolly, eyeball lolly,
Gruesome!
Gruesome!

Want some?

“Eww, no way,” I said, giggling, and this time I didn’t care that Rainbow saw me sticking out my tongue. “It’s not true. You’re lying.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Fine, you got me. I’m lying. But don’t complain when what happened to Fizzy Pop happens to you as well,” she said, pointing at a picture of a filly with a pink coat and a pink saddlebag, a pink bow in her mane, and the sunniest smile I ever saw. “Great galloping horse apples, Aunt Gloom Cloud did not like Fizzy.”

I hugged my knees on my chair, smirking at my big sis. “Why didn’t she like her?”

“Slurped her drinks, of course,” said Rainbow, before going:

Slurp she went, then burp and sup,
Disgusting drool all over her cup.
As for her dinner, as for her plates,
Disgusting girl never washed up.

“What did I tell you?” Aunt went one day.
“What did I warn you?
What did I say I would do if I saw you
Slurp and saw you glug?
Saw you dribble all over my mugs?
What do you say? How do you plead?
How d’you explain such a horrible deed?”

Naughty girl was full of soda,
Full of fizz and full of cola.
She tried feeling sorry; tried feeling shame.
A great nasty BUUURP instead was what came.

Slibber globber,
Slabber slobber,
Spittle spit,
Blobber.

Shower slosher,
Swig swiller,
Gargle gulp,
Slopper.

Swallow squirt,
Sop slupper,
Auntie’s mind was made:
And the very next day she served Foal-Lemonade.

“No she didn’t!” I yelled. But Rainbow was more serious than ever.

“Oh yes she did, and then she had all her friends round for a Fizzy Pop picnic. But d’you know what she said to Fizzy before turning her into soda?”

That’s the last you’ll swig,
The last you’ll slurp,
The last you’ll spit,
The last you’ll burp.”

And in a flash Aunt caught her;
To the vat Aunt sauntered:
Threw in some lemons,
Just a hint of melon,
Then pony-girl and water.

She added the sugar,
And wouldn’t you know it?
Fizzy felt dizzy,
Fizzy turned fizzy,
The very next day she was all in a tizzy.

She was Gone and Dissolved!
But no worry, no worry.

Not when she tastes
So sweet and so scrummy.

Rainbow sipped on her lemonade, and my stomach went cold. “It’s not true,” I told her. “You can’t scare me, Rainbow.”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “I lied again... sort of. Aunt didn’t turn them into food and drink – not all of ’em. Hay, did I ever tell you about Brass Gear? Best li’l inventor in all Equestria! Too bad that he broke into Aunt’s grandfather clock to figure out how it worked. Too bad he got caught.”

The clock struck six. Sure enough, there were scratch marks on the door, at just the right height for a little colt to have made…

Then Rainbow sang:

Hickory dickory dock,
Hit on the head with a block.
Tied and bound and twirled around,
And stuffed inside of the clock.

“The clock?” I said.

“Yes,” said Rainbow, “the clock, the clock!”

Tic toc, tic toc,
Counting down to twelve o’clock.
Then it was twelve,
Knock, knock, knock, knock:
Against his head struck the clock.
Thwack, thwock, thwack, thwock.

Tic toc, tic doc, hickory tockery toc.
Against his brains bashed the clock.

“I’ll be good! I’ll behave!
Please don’t send me to my grave!”

Tic toc, tic toc, tic tic toc.
The key to the clock was thrown astray:
Tic toc, put in a letter, tic toc, mailed away.
Taken on-board a postal train,
Never was seen again.

He was trapped! He was locked!
And slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly,
Knock by knock, thwack by thwock,
Tic toc, was turned into a clock.

“A clock?!” I said.

“Yes,” said Rainbow, “a clock, a clock!”

Hickory doc,
Brain of gears,
Hic tic doc.
Hair of brass,
Arms of steel:
Don’tcha know how cold that feels?

He spends his days now counting a lot.
Not much choice when stuck as a clock.

She pointed over her shoulder, and there was another clock there, a small one, and shaped like a pony.

“NO!” I went, grinning super-wide though feeling queasier than ever. “Stop it, Rainbow! Anyway, it doesn’t matter if I’m naughty. Aunt would have to catch me first.”

Rainbow shook her head. “Oh, she’ll catch you alright. Quick as a whip-crack, that one. And once she gets ya, SPASH. It’s right in the cauldron for you, li’l miss. Then she’ll get all her neighbours round for supper.”

“What joy,” (she’ll say). “I’ve a treat for you:
A lovely warm dinner of Scootaloo stew.

It’s sweet and delicious,
I’m so sinfully kind.
I left in the hooves,
I hope you don’t mind.
They’re my favourite parts!
Fun to bite and lick and gnaw,
Slaver and suck inside your jaw.

I threw in some spiders, their egg-sacs too,
Added some worms – don’t think me cruel.
The flavour’s delightful!
Give it a try:
Like sugar and spice, everything nice,
And great big heaps of great fat mice.

But wait: there’s more.
So much fun through my pantry door.

Earwigs and slugs and snails and tails,
Wasps and bugs and foul rotting quails.

I smooshed ’em together,
Made a wondrous paste—
Not one li’l bug did I think to waste.
I added some herbs, soaked ’em in water,
Threw in the pony (cut up to order).
Set up the table, filled up the bowls:
Slurp it all up, swallow her whole.

What fun! What joy! A tasty treat for you:
A lovely fresh dinner of Scootaloo stew.”

Just then, the real Aunt Gloom Cloud called from the kitchen. “Din-dins!” she said, and I jumped a foot in the air, but still Rainbow looked serious as ever. A moment later, Aunt came through the door with a tray with a big bowl on it, with the lid on. I was starving – starving, but wondering...

I looked at the sweets.

I looked at my drink.

I looked at the clock.

They made me all think – think of poor foals, boiled and eaten, or turned into drinks and clocks. But Rainbow had been joking, of course.

Right?

I mean, Aunt Gloom Cloud, cooking her own nieces and nephews? It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t, it couldn’t, it just couldn’t be...

It was as I thought this that Aunt put the tray on the table, smiled and said, “I hope you two are hungry. I’ve made you both a big helping of... Stew Surprise!”

She whipped away the lid, and—

Brown broth, steaming—

Bits of veggies, floating—

Me, screaming, screeching, “OH PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T EAT ME! I’LL BE GOOD! I’LL BEHAVE! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU SAY, JUST DON’T COOK ME!”

I don’t even care who knows it: I was shaking and my eyes were all wet, and I almost didn’t notice big sis biting her lip, or Aunt sighing at her and saying, “This is going to be good, isn’t it, Rainbow? Get talking.”