Chapter 6: No One Fights Alone

"Have some faith in yourself, Margherita." The more that she reflected on these words, the more that Margaret doubted in herself as a heroine. Could it be that she was bad at lucid dreaming, or could it be that she was simply incompetent? How hard was it to shoot a horse-sized cockroach?

I did it before; I can do it again. The real question is: 'Can I do it correctly?'

SIXTH DREAM

When Margaret returned to Princess Luna, she saw the princess with a large bowl of popcorn. "Margherita...Hello to you again!" The princess spoke through a mouth full of corn. "Would you care for a bite of air-popped goodness?"

"No, thank you." Margaret declined. "Let me see if I can summon my own." She held out her hands and imagined a bowl, but ten seconds passed to no avail. "Maybe I am bad at dreaming," she admitted with renewed sense of grief.

"Do not fret," Luna insisted. She swallowed her corn with a gulp. "For as it happens, I have access to your memories; I can aid you with anything you ask for."

Margaret paused. "Come again?"

"You know that I can see your subconscious, but did you know that I can see your memories, too?"

Margaret stared, unsure of how to feel. "...That isn't unsettling or anything, especially if you see my darkest secrets."

The princess looked away with a grin. "That is a very real possibility...but nopony shall know them but us." The princess gave Margaret a wink.

"O.k." Margaret acquiesced. She took a brief moment to think. "May I have another Manurhin revolver?"

"If you know it, then I can also grant it. Here you are!" the princess replied, and she materialized the MR-73. The revolver was just as Margaret remembered it: same dimensions, caliber, and weight as the one in the safe that lay beside her mother's bed. In addition, the cylinder was loaded.

"This is it! Thank you very much...I don't suppose that you could summon people, too?"

"Do you plan on bringing friends, Margherita?"

"Well, friendship is magic, is it not?" Margaret smiled, and Luna did, too.

"It is indeed. Whom do you require?"

"How about my best friend, Janice?"

"You mean Janice, the daughter of Captain Vance?"

"That's exactly who I mean: Janice Compton! She's strong, she's a better shot than I am, and she knows how to shoot a machine gun; let's give her an M240B.

"While we're at it, let's also bring my guy friends: Jackson, Wolfwood, Tyrell, Sean, and Lancer. Sean hunts with a Browning X-Bolt Hunter, so let's give him that in a .30-06. Jackson was raised in the Falklands, so give him an old British FAL. Wolfwood shoots a Schofield cavalry model for the Single-Action Shooting Society, and Lancer loves to shoot his father's AR-15A4. Finally, Tyrell's brother used to be in a gang, so let's give Tyrell a machine gun, too: say, an old-fashioned Uzi 9mm."

"Quite the fire team," Luna remarked. "Is there another companion you would like?"

"Well, yes, now that you mention it. I almost forgot about Martis!" Margaret smacked her forehead again. "How could I forget my brother, Martis? Please send him to the wedding as well, and please send him with another Manurhin."

"Very well," the princess agreed. "When you arrive, your friends will be waiting. Are you ready to return, Margherita?"

'"I am! Wish us luck, Your Majesty!"

And again, Margaret's world became a flash.

***

"What fools!" Chrysalis accused. "Every one of you here is a fool! I am Chrysalis, queen of the changelings, and I have come to find—" The queen reeled her head with bewilderment. "What? Where did you come from?"

"North Carolina," said Margaret. She had spawned in the chapel's center aisle, and she pulled back the hammer of her Manurhin. "Guess where we're about to send you, you evil parasite on ponies' emotions."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa! Whoa!...Whoa!"

Margaret turned around to see her friends, all of whom were present and properly equipped.

"Whoa!...Margaret, where the Hell are we?" The interrupter was big and burly Sean.

"And why are we holding guns?" Jackson asked.

"For once, I'm on the same page as Sean," said Janice. "Where are we, why is it cheaply animated, and why I am carrying a thirty-pound machine gun?"

"Ha! At least you infidels can see!" complained Armand, shielding his face. "Sean, if you have them, could you spare your aviators?"

"Oh, sure. Here you go, Armand."

As Armand protected his photophobic eyes, Martis sniffled, coughed, and collapsed. His coughs were dry, his nose was runny, and he shivered on the floor from his chills.

"Oh, crap!" Lancer remarked. He set down his rifle and tended to Martis as the others took notice and gathered.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Sean.

"He has influenza!" said Lancer. "Margaret, what the heck were you thinking? Bringing Martis to Equestria like this..."

"Equestria?" repeated Tyrell. "Where's that?"

Lancer had a sudden epiphany. "...It's a kingdom in My Little Pony." Lancer stood up and gazed about. From the curious eyes of the wedding's many ponies to the towering columns of the chapel, his surroundings overloaded him with wonder. "We're...we're in an episode of My Little Pony!"

"What? That's impossible," Janice remarked.

Tyrell became skeptical, as well. "How'd we all get inside a cartoon?"

"Ahem..." interrupted the queen, bringing everyone's attention to herself. "Were you primates about to send me somewhere?"

"Yes, we were: straight down to Tartarus!" Margaret spun around to brief her friends. "Do all of you see that giant bug? She's evil, and she steals ponies' souls. For the welfare of all ponykind, our mission and our duty is to put her in the ground!"

"Yeah, let's do it!" Lancer agreed.

"Uh, sure...But first, I need to trade. Out of all the time I've spent in America, the only gun I've really shot is a hunting rifle," said Jackson.

"You know, I would like to trade, too. I can barely aim this thing," said Janice.

"I, as well," Armand requested. "I've never shot an H&K."

Tyrell examined his weapon like an amateur. "Um...I've never even held a gun."

"Oh, no..." Margaret thought aloud. "Tyrell, wasn't your brother in a gang?"

"Yeah, my brother. He was in a gang. I wasn't nearly stupid enough to get involved with that!" Something suddenly clicked for Tyrell. "Oh, I see what's really going on here. Hey, Armand?"

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Why are black dudes so good at playing basketball?"

"I don't know. Would you care to inform me?"

"It's because they're good at running, stealing, and shooting." Tyrell emphasized the "shooting" bit for Margaret. "Get it? 'Cause I'm black, Margaret thinks I'm a thug!"

"That's a terrible joke."

"I know, right?"

"Everyone knows that dindus of the garden variety like you and your brother can't shoot for shit."

"Oh, Motherfucker!"

"I'm not kidding. Watch as you prove my point by aiming for my heart, but shooting my testicles, instead!"

"Armand, you're a smart guy, but come on! I'm standing right next to you, Fool!" Tyrell never aimed his gun at Armand, but after hearing that line, Armand acted. Keeping one hand on his rifle, Armand reached out and seized the weapon lightning quick. He then held the gun to Tyrell's forehead. "Oh, damn!" Tyrell exclaimed.

"As am I," Armand responded. "As you've admitted to having never shot before, surely, you will take no qualms if I decide to keep this." Showing mercy, he pointed the muzzle away.

"No, man. We're cool...We're cool." With a sigh, Tyrell turned back to Margaret. "Look, Margaret...I can't shoot. I never want to shoot, and probably never will. If you want to know a black guy who shoots, then try Phileas. I think his dad owns, like, fifty guns."

It was then that Margaret's memory kicked in. Phileas White, the young man in question, once ran into Margaret at a shooting range. They got along well with each other's families, and they both had a blast shooting each other's weapons. The boy could also shoot on the move; indeed, Margaret should have brought Phileas.

"Hey uh..." began one of the wedding guests. "...are you monkeys gonna save us, or what?"

"Oh, Hell no!" Tyrell exclaimed. "That pony did not just call me a monkey!"

"Relax," Janice commanded. "That pony was talking to all of us. O.k.! Everyone, trade up." Jackson took Sean's Browning X-Bolt, Sean took the heavy M240, Janice took Armand's H&K, and Armand took Lancer's AR-15. "Are we good?"

"Ha! We're all doing better than Martis." Sean looked at the glass as "half-full." "Hey! Where'd that giant bug go?"

Margaret turned around to see aisle, but she had a clear view of the apse. There was Celestia, Shining Armor, and Twilight's friends...but Queen Chrysalis was nowhere in sight.

"Behind you, you nincompoops!" shouted a guest. So, the group spun around to see Chrysalis—who was behind them, just as forewarned—but before a single weapon could be raised, Chrysalis shot a laser straight through Margaret's heart. So it was that Margaret woke up again.