Binky's Friend : Revisions, Rewrites, and Recidivism

Binky’s Friend : Pink Sound

Scene 1

[Hyperacusis...]

There was enough food to feed a small army laid out before the four fillies gathered around the booth in the far corner of the bakery, emphasis on was. This small feat had won Diamond Tiara and Scootaloo a Polaroid photo and Sugarcube Corner’s posthumously named screwball award.

Naturally, the feat would have been quite impressive if the two foals had actually pulled it off without cheating; not that they could actually explain the cause of their ravenous hunger without sounding a bit loony toons. After all, who would want to believe Sugarcube Corner was haunted by a pair of extra celestial apparitions?

It was bad enough the two cheater-cheater-pumpkin-eaters were so high on sugar and absinthe that patrons entering the facility practically wondered why Pinkie Pie used it to make licorice in the first place… not that she’d gotten many complaints about her brownies or specialty muffins, but the children giggling in the back of the store were barely coherent; not to mention inconsolably delirious or arguably psychotic.

Metaphorically speaking, if one didn’t know better they might assume the winners of the screwball award were suffering recovery sickness from the use of pot' after being slain by sharpness two.

One could hardly classify the repast at Sugarcube Corner fine dining, but between Binky and Diamond Tiara’s credit card the mare working the floor of the sweet shop made it possible. For the savory, mint chocolate mousse. For the cold appetizer, éclairs imported from Buckarrest. For the hot appetizer, apple pie brown betty brownies. For the intermezzo prickly pear sorbet, made with the juiciest nopalea in all of Equestira. When the main course consisting of a three layered red velvet chiffon with pumpkin cream icing and double stuffed chocolate ganache disappeared faster than you can say pega-sister, a desert consisting of truffles in amethyst fondant made with real magic mushrooms was bound to be a major treat.

The orange soda, whose ginger bug was fermented with frogs from Twilight’s caracara, made the incredibly edible red licorice straws and candy glass tumblers immaterial. A true shock considering the flavor of the beverage was closer to mead mixed with sake than orange flavored ginger ale. Then again the chaser, consisting of a hot fudge Sunday with maraschino cherries and grenadine syrup, certainly made up for any missing calories the girls needed to wake the dead with ear piercing squeals of delight.

The specter of Diamond Tiara unwillingly footing the bill for this repast, as the anthropomorphic embodiment of death used her corporeal form to engage in a wild and drunken revelry, abstained from waxing her palate with anything more than the backwash of liquorish dew-shine passing itself off as coqui-cola.

“Why the hell aren’t you eating anything?” The mycelial parasite currently occupying Diamond’s body asked. That is to say Binky, the intellent virus, seemed to finally notice his host was not enjoying much of anything.

“And deprive you of your final meal? You scheming, dirty, rotten, thieving, lying, no-good, butt-faced god. I perish the thought.” Diamond replied. If anypony else could have seen her they might have noticed a slight sneer if not carrion eating look.

“Whatever, Fatty McFatting-ton. Just remember it’s your face not mine.” Binky huffed as she stuffed another cupcake in her mouth… “OW! Farking stained lass muffin.” Binky whimpered and whined ad werf surf-tribble-ing quite interrigible conshidering her mowf waf foo of grass.’’

“Damn-it Binks quit narrating with your mouth full!” Scootaloo was clearly annoyed as she shoved Binky‘s face into a conveniently located banana cream pie with a splat. How she managed to sneak up behind the body snatcher was a matter of public record. Seeing as she left the corner stall of the little filly’s room; with bidets and hipponese toilets, without washing her graspers; it was also kind of icky. Sadly, Binky’s face was only an ungodly mess for half a second. Because the anthropomorphic embodiment of death managed to stretch Diamond Tiara’s tongue like a vine and lick her...their? face clean with a tongue in the length of a fruit by the foot.

“Wow!” Twistaloo was in awe. “That’s so romantic, you two must really like each other.” No, that wasn’t sarcasm. Apparently Twistaloo’s less than spectacular resurrection was accompanied with some form of delusional metta-cognitive autism that left her completely oblivious to harmful pranks or backhanded compliments Scotophobia and death were aiming at one another.

Naturally, this statement received a dull, shocked, and an ‘OMG is she that bleating stupid’ look from the other fillies at the table accompanied by a seemingly hollow “What!?” that reverberated with the echo of two voices and a nervous laugh.

“Well, what I mean is… you guys are always fighting, threatening each others lives, and collectively ignoring me. That’s love, Right?” Twistaloo was momentarily confused when Diamond face-hoofed in pity or sympathy before DT's specter momentarily wondered why she was surrounded by idiots. Granted, that last bit wasn’t really stated out loud, that was just an impression Binky observed and inferred from what little he knew of the stalwart snark invader.

“Uuuuuuhm, not exactly.” Scootaloo started-

“You mean my parents weren’t in love then?” Twistaloo asked having momentarily recovered some memory of her previous life, albeit lacking depth and range of cognitive complexity when observed through rose colored lenses.

Scootaloo wasn’t certain whether or not she should be more concerned for Twist or Binky. All of a sudden Scootaloo felt a thump, like a heartbeat.

“GASP! I felt that you little pervert.” Binky grumbled in accusatory tone that sounded like s/he was going to knock some-pony upside the head. Not to mention this was spoken rather clearly. Especially considering Binky had a candy-apple lollipop in his mouth, and not the kind typically used as a tongue depressant, nor was it your average jaw breaker on a stick as the case may be, the green lolly' in her mouth was one of the really kinky kinds of suckers that resembled a tootsie pop with the Cadbury, bon-bon, cordial, cherry, or caramel cream filling.

“Wait, I didn’t-” Scootaloo stopped. It only took Scootaloo a moment to realize Binky must have screwed up when severing their link. Given the delivery god’s record of service; incompetence was par for the course. It might also explain why the loyalties of her conscious ego state seemed to flip-flop on occasion, like between entering Sugarcube Corner and sitting down at the table. Then again, Diamond wasn’t exactly the best of frienemies on her worst days and it wasn’t like she owed Diamond Tiara any allegiance or stewardship beyond the assistance she offered her classmate earlier.

“Not you, her.” Binky pointed indicating Twist with a withering glare. Then, with the almighty force of exposition Binky explained the situation for those less than enlightened with gusto. “Anything Twist feels backlashes on to me, you know?’

“Cool! So if I pinch myself would you feel it?” Twist seemed rather excited to experiment with the limits of her new found power over the almighty god Binky. Like a cat that discovered canaries for the first time, she picked up a peppermint stick and shoved it up her nose so see if poking her brain like a piñata would give her any bright ideas. She had momentarily considered sticking the peppermint stick in one of her ears, but immediately dismissed that idea out of grasp because she wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing.

“If I punch her in the face would you feel it?” Diamond Tiara smirked with a determined look accompanied by an' evil grin as she momentarily contemplated her revenge, then almost felt guilty about it as she stole a glance towards Twistaloo. A being that currently seemed completely oblivious as she used a peppermint stick to pick at the inside of her nose while a bubble formed out the other nostril. Diamond almost felt guilty. But, the thought of retributive justice was one too enticing to pass up, especially after she watched Twist pull the pepermint stick out of her nose covered in slime with a daffy cross eyed look on her face, as if she’d discovered the last bit of gold on the planet.

Binky gave Diamond Tiara a half lidded stare “No! No-pony’s punching anyone. And-” Binks then pulled the lollypop out of his mouth and pointed it like the accusing wand of a conductor towards his first chair “FOR THE LOVE OF CANDYCANES, Get that stupid thing out of your mouth! You’ll get a staff infection you daffy horse’s asp.” Binky, currently occupying Diamond’s physical body and using it like a track suit, was of course referring to the poisonous snake as she proceeded to wrestle the peppermint stick out of Twist’s grasp.

“**GASP** you can’t say Ass! You’re not even a donkey.” Came a horrified voice from over by the cash register as another customer made an even more shocking revelation.

“The other one didn’t even wash her hooves before leaving the bathroom.” more hushed whispers shortly followed a third exclamation of “The tramps!”

Of course since no one could actually see Twistaloo, lacking a physical body and all, it appeared for all intents and purposes that Diamond Tiara was humping or grinding on the leg of a chair, while wearing a beanie, and gesticulating with a peppermint stick... along with a rather phallic lollipop in her mouth it was a wonder no one called her a horse.

Fortunately, the real Diamond Tiara lacked the imagination or cognitive complexity to perceive this or she would be mortified. Instead she was wearing an impish grin as she watched the other two earth ponies wrestle.

“Uh, boss…” Scootaloo ventured, despite knowing Binky was preoccupied. Under normal circumstances the anthropomorphic embodiment of death and his imperial arms (weapons that is) would go completely unnoticed unless they chose to interact within the confines of a niche group or appear out the corner of one’s eye.

In fact, by their very nature as Djinn, they should have been imperceptible to the naked eye unless the other person was magically gifted or extremely depressed to the point of being irritable or in pain. Which, given the nature of the dirty looks directed towards the Stalwart Snark Invaders, pretty much certified their audience was not in the best frame of mind. The whispers then seemed to stop as Sugarcube Corner fell into a void of silence so hollow you could hear a pin drop.

The silence, however, was short lived as the ‘hot crossed buns rendition of work your twerking (as performed by the Dust Bunny Space Men and Thrackerzod’) ring tone could be heard clear as day accompanied by Binky's seductive “Ah, You like that don’t you-” while grinding on Twist-a-loo and appearing to most everyone else to be completing (if not engaged in) an act of public indecency with a peppermint stick. This act was followed shortly by “Hullo! You’ve reached the awl mighty God Binky…alright…alright…okay.” when Diamond Tiara then seemingly pulled a red compact out of subspace, (no doubt in the dirty minds of those present for her grinding performance to powder the blush out of her clearly moon loving face) and was talking into it after the brief instrumental display of horniness. She, binky that is, then looked at Twist, who was in a prone, supine, missionary position beneath her god and - “Twist, we’re gone!” looking at Scootaloo “Scuttlebutt, escort McFattington here to-”

“Call me McFattington just one more time,” Enough was enough. And, Diamond wasn’t going to put up with this clown anymore as Binky started to wink out of the way of her cow punching assault, for lack of a better term, with a hastily prepared teleport.

“Oh no ya don’t! You’re not ditching me here with-.” Scootaloo complained indicating the harsh glares of the Sugar Cube customers as she dog piled onto the teleport. Something about being a spectral apparition made the speed of light much closer to a snails pace, or at the very least closer to the speed of sound.

Simultaneous cries of “Them” and “I dare you!” rang out as the four fillies magically flashed back into existence. Appearing in a park plaza somewhere in Canterlot proper the four fillies dropped with a whump sound known only to bags of flour and sacks of potatoes. Diamond wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t part of Celestia’s private garden.

“WHY THE HELL IS EVERYONE SO HEAVY!” Binky complained as he was feeling both the weight of everyone on top of him and the weight of everyone on top of Twist...who was still prone under the delivery god's mighty sheild.

“We all Just ate, you moron.” Diamond huffed, but managed to break free of the encumbrance of Scootaloo and Binky. If she didn’t know better she could have sworn Scootaloo intended to give her a black eye.

“Some of us more than others McFattington. What did you think would happen?” Scootaloo growled as she untangled herself from Diamond Tiara and Twist.

“Again!!! Again!” Twist certainly seemed to be enjoying herself like a toddler as she clapped her fore hooves together excitedly.

The fillies then quickly found themselves surrounded on all sides by guard.

“Damn! I knew this was a setup!” Binky farted, because he really was a butt faced god.

“Well, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree-”came a crisp clear voice from the shadows.

“Oh no, anyone but her.” Binky whined as his eyes opened wide enough to be filled by the light of the moon.

“Could it be?” Diamond asked her voice filled with awe.

“Hashtag learning, hastag wisdom, tweet, and trending…” the voice continued.

“Ooh Pretty!” Were the only words that came to Twist’s mind in that moment.

“!” Scootaloo’s tank instincts kicked in as she rushed forward to draw fire “Oh dear God she’s finally gone cray-cray… again.” Scootaloo definitely knew a sick smile when she saw one.

“Yes, Someone spare us from the anachronistic slang baby’s kick.” Binky grumbled. “Who are you supposed to be anyway, my mommy?” he asked their patron defiantly.

“Such a godly aura!” Diamond Tiara felt moved to bow before Princess Luna as deeply as she could on three legs.

“So Shiney!” Twist commented on Luna’s appearance, evidently the guardian of nightmares (because it sounds cooler than protector of dreams) was cut to the teeth in her armor, as Twist-a-loo was likewise motivated to bow before before the great lady of the evening.

“Hey! I’m right here you know. I don’t see you groveling at my feet.” Binky complained.

“Yeah. Well- Fake god’s don’t count, looser.” Diamond Tiara commented.

“Indeed, it is pressing. To be such a popular God with SOOO many followers to please.” Princess Luna then smirked evilly.

“Eh oh, I think some-pony’s in trouble” Twist commented.

“Why did you summon me here?” Binky asked indignantly.

“Oh yes, about that…” Luna began. It was only then that Diamond looked up as she realized Binky was still wearing her body.

Binky’s Friend: Pink Sound

Scene 2

[White Noise...]

“Why did you summon me here?” Binky asked indignantly.

“Oh yes, about that…” Luna began. A small black velveteen bag containing 3000bits surrounded in aura of gentian violet was tossed at Binky’s feet. A third of the contents spilling out as the shoestring tie came undone. It landed with a metallic shroot sound, roughly one foot from Binky, as a few of the escaped bits rolled a little ways, worming in assorted directions before only one remained on edge long enough to touch base with Binky’s right hoof.

Binky whistled “Whoa, looks like some-pony’s got a lot of wishes.” the anthropomorphic embodiment of death seemed to admire the mess of shiny bits scattered on the pavement before him more than any he had ever fished out of a wishing well.

“You‘re known as the pacifier. Am I correct?” Luna asked as if she was trying to confirm something.

“I go by many names, and have many faces.” Binky attempted to sound cryptic, but with Tiara’s voice it sounded more like a hollow peep.

Luna took a sidelong glance at Diamond Tiara and Twistaloo who were still prostrating themselves before her in a an almost playful downward dog position. “I can see that. You are aware ,,God’s Possession” isn’t a toy?”

“Hey! I got permission!” Binky stated this in a manner similar to a child from a broken home that had robbed Peter to pay Paul by asking Rock to play role.

Diamond’s ears seemed to perk up in shock at this statement and she quickly came to a standing position of attention “Don’t listen to this creep!” Diamond Tiara attempted to point at Binky with an accusing hoof and a withering glare. Sadly, her balance was destabilized due to her currently missing limb. Not to mention this lead to Diamond’s immediate downfall. As such, the filly’s astral form immediately fell flat on her snoot, and Diamond Tiara almost bit her tongue.

“Celestia Damn it!” Diamond pushed herself up with her left arm as she gritted her teeth, quite a feat considering she just ate pavement. “This screwball just wants to disguise himself using my body.” Diamond snarled in a manner hunched over as she tried to regain her footing in tripod mode.

“As you can see I have only one follower,” pointing at Tiara and Twist with her right arm “Besides, you know as well as I do, a God such as myself may have need of a paladin or blessed vessel at any time.” Binky failed to mention that the 'one follower' was not Diamond Tiara as that would definitely open up a can of ear worms he did not want hammered home in the royal Canterlot voice. “I can’t help it if her wish wasn’t more specific.”

Binky then quickly put down his right front leg as an extra set of eyeballs seemed to creep into existence on it with an asynchronous blink. To say Luna was surprised to see a physical manifestation of blight (or phage) in the frog and fetlock of the squirrelly young god’s hoof was disturbing. The fact that they wriggled around to get a better look at, if not to inspect the surrounding area with, soft signs of sapience and lightning fast reflexes gave her the chills. Then again if the limb was a late addition to the foals body, and judging by the specter of Diamond Tiara’s astral form that appeared to be the case, it wouldn’t be the first time a god tried to remain on the corporeal side of the far shore by playing corrupt a wish.

“Gaurds! Borderline. NOW!” Having captured the attention of the night guard Luna Continued “Concentrate your barriers around the pacifier.”

Two Pegasus ponies who had been circling overhead, namely Captain Tylor and Batsy Fuffentuft, came out of nowhere as they landed silently and created a defensive line between the delivery god and their Princess. The later of which lacking any semblance of discipline called out “Surprise Bitch!” Captain Tylor’s appearance wasn’t any more remarkable than Batsy’s, although he was wearing a smiley face as he approached.

“Hey! Listen! That’s no way to treat a friend.” Binky’s voice having the strangled quality of an annoying fairy (or amorous hedgehog) did nothing instill the princess with any level of sympathy for the devil.

“Thou art barely a louse and friend to none little smeerp-.” The chord of Luna’s voice rung cold with a half lidded stare. Binky backed away from the clearly deranged alicorn flight guard and their unhappy monarch in what was left of Diamond‘s body.

Considering a snake bite had left a certain filly’s body poisoned and terminally depressed, if not mostly dead on arrival, the flurry of movement and the revelation of additional unicorn reinforcements (charging up what looked a little more complicated than the telekinesis spell for airing dirty laundry) did nothing to rattle the anthropomorphic embodiment of death‘s nerves any further. “A little help here would be nice.”

An exasperated “Fine” was followed by a sigh of resignation. Scootaloo, having gone mostly unnoticed by the alicorn and the other guard due to her negative presence, lack of a soul, and more than likely the Excalibur face she was currently wearing, whether as a result of an intentional flaw in her design or the incomplete separation from Binky; was not a happy camper. Still, the fact remains, Luna had completely forgotten about the bastard weapon of her current target. The how of it all as complete a mystery as Pinkie Pie’s out of frame teleportation ability. Perhaps it was plot convenience that contrived this happenstance, if only to drop a duce on the titanic while taking note of how completely unnecessary butt holes to the underlying process.

Seeing as Luna had personally visited the cutie mark crusaders individually, in spite of her MANY followers, one might expect a little recognition of the stalwart snark invader. Not that it would have particularly mattered considering practically any weapon more spectacular than the belt of truth, or the mythril pebble of pig smiting, in the metaphorical hands of a god carried with it the awesome force of natural and logical consequences. Scootaloo grumbled something along the lines of “I hope you get a yeast infection.” Before transforming into something a bit more useful than a blackjack [in what would almost certainly be a pyrrhic victory for Binky (if not a draw)] when something unexpected happened.

Ideally, Scootaloo would have been more useful than a blackjack. Assuming, that is, the energy she materialized into between transitioning from spearhead to pegasus not been pushed out of the way by an unseen cosmic force. That is to say, if her weaponized form not been deflected as she folded like a paper doll all present would have seen some serious action. Which is why, with seemingly cosmic force, at a speed just short of the physics of bullet time lasers, when a horseshoe collared the unfinished blade and spiked it to the ground with an impact along her choil and ricasso all present continued as if nothing had happened.

Binky's Friend: Pink Sound

Scene 3

[Tinnitus: Leftovers From A Certain Unremarkable Sparkle in Equestria...]

There are many ways to become an alicorn. For Diamond Tiara this was a forlorn hope and at worst a cruel joke. Ironically, when she was picking sides oblivion and pragmatism were the furthest things from allies.

She was the worst kind of spy, the kind both sides knew was a double agent thus making any intelligence she provided practically worthless. She supposed she was fortunate that her condition made her virtually immortal even if she wasn’t invulnerable. And, she could still use magic provided she didn’t use more than seven simple spells or one major seven layered spell within fifteen minutes of the last series.

At least that was before the accident. The kind of accident that set up the worst kind of temporal loops, a homunculus loop of inescapable Stein’s gate limbo; that is unless she somehow managed to cross a dimensional gateway before- well, in all fairness, Discord‘s death was ZK paradox waiting to happen whether or not there was a winner of the death game.

Diamond’s branch of the reality tree was already braided into the tire swing of structured chaos and the cord was literally about to snap with both definitions of the word contradicting one another. Scratch that, the cord was the only thing holding the branch to the tree of life, and as that cord was slowly frayed down to its last thread before the whole system collapsed-- There was no amount of gorilla glue could restore the structured chaos her world relied upon for its very survival.

Even the concept of structured chaos was an oxymoron. Fortunately, she found a quick ally in Sunset Shimmer who was equally eager to get out of this hell hole and Discord’s twisted game of phone tag. But, in all fairness, she could literally rule the world at this point and it wouldn’t make a bit of difference what her species was.

Which was really sad because practically any idiot could become an Alicorn in her reality without much effort, all it required was solving a paradox you created while completing the work of someone else... then taking credit for the other pony's work while ruining the  lives of your closest friends through betrayal and butt hurt. Yes, anyone could become an alicorn except her, because what could possibly be more paradoxical than someone with access to all the powers of God restrained by the straightjacket of a twisted game of cat and mouse. There just wasn’t enough time to pull off an alicorn ascension with the precious little time she had left… and Diamond knew this literally.

The academy city database title of Alchemist was a bit of a misnomer as the title of 'Backstabbing Blade' would have probably been more accurate. Not that it really mattered since Diamond Tiara wasn’t even her real name. If she ever located the cruel bastard that named her Blood Diamond she was going to vivisect them with her chainsaw of justice. Not to mention she would hardly classify internal bleeding, simulated tuberculosis, and occasional brain damage in exchange for the ability to use magic an equivalent exchange. The only reason she had the luxury of living as long as she had was a result of her ESPer ability to immediately repair most superficial damage and her ability regenerate her major organs within a matter of minutes. Unfortunately, since the ability relies on a good deal of perception for damage control, the use of painkillers it often caused more harm than good.

Truly, becoming the alicorn of Death and then spending the rest of her immortality malingering in another world like Twilight Sparkle was a pipe dream for Diamond Tiara in name only. Obviously, there was some element to the ascension process that she was missing and it clearly wasn't rich parents... or the dildo sticking out of Twilight's forehead because she'd totally heard about a pretty pink pegasus pony from the frozen north that recently ascended as well... granted  the pegasus was 'soaking in coitus' with Twilight's brother at the time, whatever the heck that means (since the private investigator was pretty tight lipped on the subject). Then again, considering she was about to loop through another cycle of this death spiral she could do worse than opening a gateway to a parallel world.

After completing the third circle of the  mandala she'd at least have a chance to move on from this dystopian world of technology driven hell. Once the portal opened, lit with a dull red light, Diamond used her magic to focus on the nihilistic cosmic forces of death needed to anchor her to the other world using a horseshoe as an electromagnetic homing beacon and threw it into the void. It also had the effect of attracting the attention of aliens from whole other word, and different dimension, the first time Diamond had attempted this... it wasn't any less spectacular or successful then; than it was now, and all it accomplished was alerting a race of predatory parasytes to the location of another world upon which to feed. The time loop still manifested, but each time a fraction of a second sooner, and each one connecting to a different world. Except for this last one which had an anchor.

As they approached silently from the rear with more grace than their captain and his latest subby, the bat winged pegasi Sunshine and Frolic acted as a boundary to the rear of the pink pony. One that should have effectively kept 'Binky' in his present location as three walls of blue light converged to create a prison of crystallized electricity that would lock the possessed body in place long enough for Luna to perform an exorcism…assuming aforementioned horseshoe hadn’t effectively killed the filly wearing the propeller beanie slowing only after it had severed her cervical vertebrae with the force of a butcher’s knife on its journey through her trachea, vocal cords, thyroid, and those three little bones that operated as an exoskeleton for her esophagus.

For one to argue the horseshoe had moved with the spin of an errant boomerang as it happened to both bloodlessly and quickly burst through the blood-bone barrier like a circular saw, in order to pin and collar a bolt of lightning would be exaggerating.

To say Diamond Tiara, the astral projection, was speechless as she observed the scene of her body’s encounter with the glue maker 'for want of a nail. With an intensely horrified look of troubled interest pasted onto her face as the light in her eyes slowly drew a blank stare, the warm glow of her features starting to cool as blood flowed from her neck meats with an evil hiss of a sprinkler or kinked hose before her body just sort of collapsed head first onto the broken and naked blade that had moments before resembled something akin to ball lightning. Becoming an arrowhead that was bent at a peculiar angle, sticking out of the ground, folded under the horseshoe that had slain 'Binky, while effectively stapling the horse shoe into the ground with impact fractures, did not make the scene of a rail spike (that would be Scootaloo) being effectively driven through the filly's head any less traumatic.

Diamond's three leged spectral apparition wanted to scream, mouth agape she should have screamed, if her consciousness wasn’t slowly fading like the world around her as it was enshrouded in ebon darkness… then there was a soft glow that seemed to envelop her as her body faded into transparency. Was this it, was this the light of the afterlife coming forth to carry her home, or-

“MUAH HA HA HA HA HA! I did it, I’m free! FREE AT LAST! Discord, Princess Luna, Celestia, and their holier than thou acolytes can go suck my lollypops in hell.” a familiar voice crowed in triumph. “End class my hairy butt. I’d like to see someone else figure out how to launch a missile blindfolded from 400 paces, let alone stop a lightning bolt and execute a seven layered spell with a blood rite.”

“Jeepers Binky, at least wait until you’re out of earshot before-” Scootaloo started to say as she rematerialized, that is to say converted back into energy before transmogrifying into a pony while she approached the source of maniacal laughter a few feet from where Diamond Tiara’s dead body had been moments before.

Just then, as a green cylinder of light and an electric blue triangle encased the dead corporeal body of Diamond Tiara in a crystal prism before it slowly vanished. Meanwhile across the way the leg on Diamond‘s extra celestial entity started to rematerialize. Scootaloo probably would have continued staring as the ectoplasm of the ghost transformed into the living flesh, but gulped when she realized Princess Luna and the night guard were still very much present.

“Binky!?” The filly seemed surprised.

“SHEEP HERDING PRIESTS! I knew this ship would happen…” The mage who would be an alicorn (if it weren’t for extenuating circumstances that kept her from leaving a stable time loop of course), in a alternate universe where you could literally make sense of nonsense, wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be Scootaloo’s ‘sissy’ or ‘binky’ in this case.

The very thought sent chills down her spine and not in a good way. Naturally, her immediate thoughts on filly foolery were that she needed a perverted girlfriend like she needed a blackjack and a box of chicken nuggets. Fortunately, these thoughts were quickly halted as she was dog piled by Luna’s night guard. Who, whether by means magical or scientific managed to subdue their target and knock her unconscious.

It was at this moment that the other Diamond Tiara awoke in a pool of her own blood. She wasn’t suffocating, she was drowning in a manner similar to a fish in polluted waters. Only she was wallowing in muddy sand like a pig. If she could move she might have decided to crawl into a bathtub and finish the job. Trying to breathe, or at the very least move when your blood was on fire, your mouth was filled with grit, your intestines were being eaten alive, and every bone in your body felt broken was not exactly something one wanted to experience without something to dull the pain.

Diamond couldn’t even call for help, crying was about the limits of her current abilities, and being paralyzed did nothing to help her fall asleep as the adrenaline was keeping her at high alert. She was breathing, but she had no voluntary control over the process otherwise she would have held her breath until she could pass out or explode. She could blink and look around what appeared to be her bedroom. (And) Along with this ability came uncomfortable questions about whether or not the nightmare with Binky was preferable to the conscious awareness that she was obviously bitten by a snake, that she was effectively trapped in her own body, and she was crying.

‘Oh, just perfect!’ complained a hallowed voice that was creepy and weird and left Diamond so incredibly happy she wasn’t alone anymore when she let out an involuntary excited peep (with a flatulent smile on her face as she clicked her tongue) before her body started to spasm and cough and make other assorted wet noises. ‘How the bleep am I supposed to fix this smeerp, even if I do something her body will just die eventually anyway.’

There was a long pause, Diamond wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. It was obvious they weren’t connected well enough to communicate on even the most basic emotional level. She could hear Binky’s thoughts, but considering he was a shallow pool and she was a dry well there wasn‘t much in the way of witty dialog filtering around like a butterfly in the sky. Diamond Tiara briefly wondered why Binky didn’t talk to himself like a normal crazy person so she wouldn’t be alone anymore when she involuntarily gasped.

‘I got it! Ha ha I know exactly what I should do now’ Binky’s excitement was contagious, even if it was short lived when he started projecting his thoughts again ‘Fun ways to die. So many fun ways to die… fun ways to dye aye-eye, so many fun ways to die!’ Binky continued to sing this song to himself as Diamond rolled her eyes with a resigned grimace. She’d be laughing hysterically if she could. one thing was certain about her final thoughts before the facsimile of death claimed her…or at the very least let her go. What she was thinking started with an F and ended with U. The only thing worse than that stupid Fyuckking song was the imagery accompanying it...

Binky’s Friend: Pink Sound

Scene 4

[ Insonica...]

Plot: After granting Diamond Tiara’s death-wish, the almighty god ‘Binky’ needs a new body while Blood Diamond recovers from her injuries and settles on Scootaloo as the next best thing.

“Hurry! We need to get our butts out of here before the cops show up.” A scraggly Minotaur named Brigand shouted. He was out of breath, owing to the fact he was carting a wheeled suitcase through the back alley’s of Academy City, and three hairs from collapsing in the street. It’s possible that this briefcase contained the remains of the World Tree Satellite that once orbited the city. A satellite that used a diabolical calculus to justify the morality of much of the experimental research conducted by Queen Chrysalis in the first utopian metropolis upon which much of that research was founded on. The satellite that used trigonometry to predict every possible coincidence, including one scheduled to coincide with the upcoming solar eclipse.

The rest of Brigand’s gang consisted of a ragtag team of dragons, griffons, and gargoyles wearing similar (if not matching) black pinstripe suits. Regardless, there was no reason there should be a need for this many henchmen to pull off such a sensitive if not simple job. Especially given it was just the one aluminum suitcase with 180 pounds of retired sputnik hardware. Hardware that had long been outclassed in the 30 odd years since the satellite was commissioned. A satellite that was no longer running the city from the shadows, and which had been similarly decommissioned, without telling the population at large.

The reason Brigand’s henchmen were running through the streets like a team of wild horses, instead of prowling the streets in an unmarked van, had to do with a traffic jam. Which , shockingly enough, actually is an unusual occurrence in Academy City. After going down a maze of blind alley’s in the red light of the sunset's shadow, the members GROUP slowed but didn’t stop as they took a moment to gain their bearings. Such an action would have been easier with a GPS or absolute direction but they needed to remain off the grid and undetectable from Queen Chrysalis, her Pegasus army, and prying eyes.

Of course, being built like a gorilla with the body of a tank did not make Brigand any faster or lighter on his feet. Nor did it make him any more athletically gifted than the other members of his crew. And, owing to the fact he could barely drag the satellite behind him at a speed roughly equivalent to a mile in 20 minutes did nothing to help him take the lead as the others scouted ahead of him to find the quickest escape route through the labyrinth of backstreets in the arcade. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Brigand found himself separated from the herd  by at least thirty yards and was startled with an innocent sound from the mouth of babes.

“I beg your pardon.” With these words an orange Pegasus filly sort of flittered into existence. She wasn’t within his line of sight in the moments leading up to her appearance, she just sort of appeared, then disappeared like a ghostly apparition.

Before he responded to her prying din of curiosity (like a cat who found her canary) she (the filly that is) vanished again only to reappear behind the cleverly disguised remains of the satellite, and by clever, a conspicuously obvious aluminum trunk that rattled with silicon, gold, fiberglass, plastics, and lead as it's scarred wheels rolled over potholes and other evidence of erosion (or perfunctory attempts at maintenance) was far from obvious.

“WHat!?” Brigand was still processing the speed of the humming bird  filly’s jump from line of sight to immediately behind him in less time than it took him to blink. There was a slight tug on the suitcase as she tried to lift, twist, wrestle, and whip the trunk out of the grip of his hand to no avail. All that effort managed was a heavy rustle of the metaphorical box of snicker-doodles.

Then, after thinking a moment (The orange pegasus miming the action by rubbing her chin when a strategically placed lamp post lit up over her head like a halo), Brigand knew he was in trouble. Placing her hoof on the aluminum trunk, both Pegasus, the trunk, along with the satellite's hard drive and it’s contents, seemed to magically vanish. “Hey!” Brigand’s scouts all turned around immediately upon realizing they were unable to hear their bovine master's labored breathing only to see the commotion. One of brigand’s scouts, and probably the one most familiar with magic, was able to put two and two together immediately “A Teleporter!”

“Really Gilda? You think!” Came a sarcastic reply from one of the others.

Scootaloo, having reappeared in front of the gathered formation of black suited thugs whistled. “Yoo-hoo, Over here.” The Pegasus was now seated on top of the trunk attempting to look coy. She then called attention to her uniform “Judgment! Should I even have to explain why I’m here?”

Judgment was a junior detective agency run by Antiskill, Academy City’s local law enforcement. It was essentially a ridiculously overpowered ROTC program filled with super powered teenagers given the authority of campus police and peace officer service training among the various educational facilities throughout the city. Given this knowledge the thugs immediately pulled their guns and pointed them at Scootaloo. She teleported behind most of the group before literally tap dancing on the least threatening looking member of the group, forcing them to ground, before using the famed ‘boot to the head’ technique in order to knock out seven more in one blow…

It‘s probably best not to ask how easy the task of epic pwnage was achieved using the secrets of pony fu, waif fu, and horse shoe. As the details explaining the kinetic mastery of this art are beyond the comprehension of minds still processing how the viscosity of pony hooves work in conjunction with electromagnetism and weak force to game the physics of lift.

“Hey! That’s no way to treat a friend.” Scootaloo said as she used her psychic powers to teleport several knitting needles into the suits of the fallen toughs like tent stakes. The bandoleers she had strapped to her legs for easy access quickly liberated themselves of the assorted stainless steel senbon. The projectiles simultaneously relocating themselves in time and relative dimension of space with the speed of a nail gun. Sure, two of the thugs managed to get away while Scootaloo was distracted…but at least “Low tech hand guns? Wow. They’re definitely not from around here.”

As puzzling as the most useless weapons ever conceived in the face of magic and telekinetic powers were, Scootaloo’s inquiry of the fallen radicals was interrupted by a phone call- “Hello? This is Scootaloo- what‘cha gon’na do?” three guesses as to which ring tone she was using.

“Uh, Skeets.” The voice sounded tired and maybe a bit disappointed.

“Sissy!” Scootaloo had to admit she was surprised. Rainbow Dash literally never called her, ever.

“I need a favor from you. Where are you?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Well, I’m…”Scootaloo was unable to complete her debriefing because Rainbow Dash seemed pensive if not repentant.

“Oh! Right. You’re probably still at work. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you then.” Rainbow Dash hushed.

“N-no, no problem. What’s the favor?” Scootaloo stuttered. She would do anything for her sissy. 'Literally' anything for the object of her obsession. Even if it meant sacrificing her life because Rainbow Dash made her feel whole. This was almost an irony considering her idol was suicidal.

“I found out there’s going to be a surprise room inspection, I can’t make it back in time. I need you to hide a few of my personal things.” Scootaloo briefly wondered if Rainbow Dash expected her to hide anything particularly naughty… because she’d totally inspected their room pillar to post several times while on assignment and the worst secret she had discovered __so far__ was that her sissy liked to read Daring Do novels.

Maybe Rainbow Dash had a hidden cubby hole she didn’t know about with a cache of smut. Scootaloo could only hope, she read Twilight  fan-fictions all the time where they did 100 pages of relationship building and character development before it devolved into 50 shades of pandering and meaningless sex. Meanwhile, all she could interpret from her beloved’s diary was that it was filled with entries about how she was crushing on someone called Purple Smart.

Then again, Rainbow’s journal entries could have been about wanting to crush someone named Purple Heart. Seeing as how Rainbow had taken to using the cash symbol to represent ’us’ for crush the odd shorthand obviously held some romantic significance for the pegasus. At least that was how Scootaloo had interpreted the odd cipher when transcribing it for Queen Chrysalis. Who was she to question her majesty’s interest in sissy’s personal life.

“Sissy, are you out too?” Scootaloo asked as she sat down on top of the aluminum trunk containing the remains of the pilfered satellite. The cold metal transferring the heat of her backside like a hand warmer that began to crystallize.

“Nevermind! I’ll just ask someone else.” Rainbow Dash hung up.

“Sissy!?” rather than thinking her beloved’s actions rude, Scootaloo was frustrated “Aaugh! How could I let sissy turn to someone else for a favor?” at the very fraction of a second she decided to teleport back to the student dorms the aluminum case was pulled out from under her. An action that literally caused her to fall flat on her ass skinned bandoleer.

“Huh?” The dumbfounded look on her face was quickly replaced by one of pain when the back end of a teaspoon materialized and launched in her arm “Ow!-the hell.” Scootaloo winced as she drew her attention away from the bloody implement, regained her footing, and drew her attention back to the cause of her misery.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?” Asking questions was really a formality, most ponies could sleuth out each other’s names on sight alone due in large part to observation skills and a bit of extra sensory perception “Silver Spoon.”

A grey mare, roughly the same age, with a powdered mane and silver spoon shaped cutie mark (similar to the one digging into Scootaloo’s arm) surrounded by flames was happily crouched on top of the trunk Scootaloo had warmed up for her, the aluminum case containing the remains of the World Tree Satellite. Carefully guarded, hidden by shadows that made her look particularly creepy and weird where the sun don’t shine, and with an unbraided mess of white horsetail cascading over the metal barrel of the aluminum mystery box Silver Spoon decided to gloat...

“My word. You figured that out quickly, didn’t you, feather brain?” Silver Spoon then smiled a very fox like grin as Scootaloo back peddled before she was impaled by the fat end of a another utensil, this one a soup spoon that clipped past her ear, and which was meant to rip out her eye with the precision of a melon-baller. “Leave it to the same type of ESPer to understand their disadvantage so quickly.” The light cascaded off her spectacles menacingly as the lenses seemed to flare with piercing artificial light. Artificial light generated by an everyday carry flashlight.

Silver Spoon’s sick smile was far from infectious. The look on her opponents face, even hidden by menacing shadows, put Scootaloo on guard. She clutched at the spoon turned bloody stake in her arm and winced as she noticed the blood starting to pool around her sleeve. Silently the young pegasus prayed it hadn’t pierced an artery.

“My teleportation power is called move-point,” Silver spoon continued -“it’s about as different from yours as teleportation magic in general. But, unlike you, I can use both magic and telekinesis. As a matter of fact, I don’t actually have to touch an object with my hooves or manipulate it with my magic to relocate it or orient it in space. Now, don’t you think that‘s special?”

The question Silver Spoon asked was rhetorical, she didn’t actually expect Scootaloo to answer. Although, to be fair, the orange pegasus was definitely beginning to suspect someone was 'special' and it wasn’t in the complementary sense of the word given the blue light of the approaching thunderstorm. And given the fact her opponent seemed to now favor a dark scepter she was waving around like a wand with all the practical application of a torch in broad daylight...it was sunset after all.

“It’ll take more than hocus pocus, hoodoo, and snooty words to defeat me!” Scootaloo huffed with a snort. The Judgment officer, assuming you could consider the young ruffian turned street angel a peace officer at this point, was itching for a fight. And, so, what she thought she would do was rush the four eyed menace with all the care of a bull in a china shop.

This was not a very well thought out plan as Silver Spoon used her psychic powers to lift the fallen victims of Scootaloo’s ‘boot to the head’ like rag dolls. Before immediately using said rag dolls as zoot suit wearing meat shields and blunt force projectiles.Sadly, while these living dead-weights were easily dodged the same could not be said of the knitting needles Scootaloo had used to pin the now unconscious gangsters to the ground. Silver Spoon had managed to simultaneously call all of the sharp pointy objects to the frog of her left hoof with all the grace of ferrofluid in contact with an earth magnet.

Even with bits of fabric attached to the senbon this was quite an intimidating site to behold. It was almost like a needlepoint pompom in the hands of a deranged cheerleader. Assuming said cheerleader was sitting seductively in the shadows, on top of a metal suitcase, with a strategically placed flashlight highlighting her features like a camp counselor telling a spooky story…

Who knew she could also throw out a barrage of needles like a missile launcher quick as a bunny?

Silver Spoon’s ability to multitask was quite impressive, especially in that instant when you realize sometimes diplomacy is better achieved with an axe. Sure, the missiles missed their intended target because of ‘stupid’ apparently. And, while admittedly, Silver Spoon was unable to compensate for the fact that her winged opponent was able to dodge by teleport. If there was one thing the sadistic fiend could be proud of, the rag dolls had been sufficiently converted to voodoo pin cushions. Which meant lots of paperwork for the junior detective the following morning. And of course, everyone knew paperwork had to be filled out long hand at 20 words per minute. The pegasus would be in the office all day, like an in school suspension. Silver Spoon could just imagine the agonizing torture.

Within an instant Scootaloo was in her face. The pegasus appearing only a hair’s breath away from Silver Spoon's goggles. As evidenced by the fire in her breath which fogged up the lenses of her glasses when the orange pegasus glared daggers at the nasty little mare that had taken a shot at her. “Like I said, it will take more than that to stop me ya Ho-”

Scootaloo was about to say horses patootie or something ‘roughly’ similar but she hadn’t accounted for Silver Spoon’s EDC flashlight. Observational skills aside, that darn flashlight was about as heavy as a blackjack and twice as deadly. At roughly the size and weight of a sheleighleigh it was no surprise Scootaloo not only found herself nearly unconscious in that instant, but she would be nursing a nasty bruise that would smart like a light that never come.

“Like I told you, I don’t have to touch an object or manipulate it with magic in order to relocate it.” Silver Spoon got up off of the trunk that held remains of the fallen satellite. Looking over her conquered foe with a sly smirk that promised much pain silver spoon giggled as she imagined what was was going to do with that flashlight when- she glanced up and all the color immediately drained from her face. She had seen it out the corner of her eye, obviously but now that the ghostly, gaunt, three legged figure approached she could see it, that thing, for whatever it was- “No, that’s that's im-impossible.” Silver Spoon backed away tripping over her feet and the metal suitcase that held the remains of the world tree satellite.

“Wai-hello there little home-wrecker.” The walleyed pink pony with a beanie and arguably lavender mane accentuated with white highlights smiled cutely…or it might have been cute if blood wasn’t dripping from the corners of her mouth.

“Diamond- I eh he heh …” Silver Spoon Gulped nervously as she eyed her fare weather friend. Something about her eyes were wrong, a void of chaos and oblivion. Silver Spoon found herself cowering behind the case that had been holding the satellite’s remains as if it could protect her from the three legged pony that approched with a clumsy gait. A pony wearing a blood soaked fluffy-fluff blue handkerchief tied strategically around her neck to stem the bleeding as her lungs and stomach filled with a metallic bile.

She hobbled towards the two teleporters.

“Shhh! I don‘t blame you for what you did.” Whether Diamond winked as a method of easing the tension or otherwise, possibly expecting Silver Spoon to stop breathing altogether, the effect was ultimately the same. There was a heavy and oppressive feeling. One feeling that exhibited itself with the force more powerful than the others. A fear almost as nerve wracking and spine tingling as if some-pony had walked over her grave. A fear that ultimately caused a chill that ran down Silver Spoon’s spine and caused all the hairs of her body to stand on end... while last night's alph alpha pellets dropped like a microphone.

“How did you- I didn’t…” Words escaped the sort of terror Silver Spoon was feeling. Her heart was beating rapidly and her mouth was dry. It was as if someone had decided to boil the essence of all the terror and evil in the world and managed to melt it into a vessel roughly the size of a stock pot.

Scootaloo, sporting quite a different reaction from Silver Spoon was not so much terrified as she was perplexed “Binky!? Wow, you’re still alive, Oh my go-”

“Shut you’re filthy whore mouth slave; the important people are speaking.” Diamond spat some blood to the ground which seemed to sizzle and steam where it landed.

“Bitch! I am the protagonist of this story” Scootaloo Snarled in disgust.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you over all of the Bucks I don’t give.” Diamond, or rather Binky, snarked.

“Yeah, and I told you I don’t require your services anymore.” Scootaloo hissed.

Silver Spoon, having regained some confidence after having to re-grow her spine, propped herself up with the metal suitcase and glanced back and forth between the other two half dead ponies in the alley before reaching an epiphany. “I don’t want to dictate your love life or anything, but I think the two of you are a couple of sluts.”

“WHat!?” there was a simultaneous cry of indignation coming from the other two ponies as they prepared to dog pile the known cheater among those assembled.

“Bye!” Silver Spoon and the illegally obtained satellite parts chose that instant to vanish in a blink leaving the two traitors to their lovers spat.

Scene 5

[Insonica (part 2)]

Elsewhere in Academy City...

Apple Bloom in appearance only, because everything from the neck up had been replaced by an alien symbiote a couple days prior, stared at the television with an almost autistic fascination. News reports mentioning missing persons from across Equestria after the recent meteor shower were the topic of interest “Wan Oh Nah, Why knew na, Whine own AAGH! dang it, I’m ah learn the fiddle bafore I catch a southern drawl.”

Getting used to her new body did not include much more than a voice box and an appearance template. The dog, of course, didn’t make it. Being the first and most easily available source of meat for the former child prodigy turned high school Equish professor meant her usefulness was at an end the moment she became said child in appearance only’s first victual sacrifice.

Not quite Apple Bloom’s survival was contingent upon passing herself off as Apple Bloom. Obviously, this was made all the more difficult seeing as she was living with a law enforcement officer working for anti-skill, the Academy City police force. Naturally, Apple Jack would have definitely made for a much better host considering her size was closer to that of the previous one (host that is). Unfortunately, that plan went to hell in a hand basket pretty quickly given that Apple Jack had to (more or less) be critically injured and hospitalized in order for Anti-Bloom to escape with her life after the host’s sibling realized something was wrong… in hindsight, however, Apple Bloom’s replacement probably could have found a better place to hide the dog than the nearest hall closet.

Given that the individual currently fostering her was a wall eyed pegasus with all the observation skills of a turkey in a rain storm, the young carnivore decided she didn’t want to tempt fate further, choosing instead to stick with the risk she was given.

Besides, given her current set of circumstances, no-pony questioned the legitimacy of her presence at Princess Luna’s Center For Kids Who Can’t Magic Good (An Wanna Do Other Stuff Good Too), where the vittles were literally a stone’s throw away and easier to manipulate than the dog apparently. Even the play-dough cookies at the school were delightful. Couldn’t say much for the company though, through some bizarre if not obscene miracle she was not called upon to prove her knowledge of the Equish language. The class she was teaching…or attending given how little she understood pony culture, was literally a front for training meat-sheilds the tactics and strategy necessary for the assassination of alicorns. Specifically, Celestia and another pony that the extra terrestrial was pretty sure was a dead given her knowledge of marenatomy.

Then again, as every pragmatist was three hairs away from being a solipsist, anything the alien saw as an unsuccessful adaptation ceased to exist on principal. And, Love (a concept understood by many if not all five year olds) was a weakness easily exploited.

Of course, given that Apple Bloom (in name alone) had first hand knowledge of the death of said princess (at least one of them) assuming she had full use of aforementioned princess’s body prior to the creatures death, this was a moot point. Whether a result of either complications of child birth, or a miscarriage of the foal the host was carrying at the time, it mattered very little to the parasyte from another planet how the body came to rejected her, she just knew that continuing to live with the complications produced by the afterbirth was unsustainable.

She, the parasite that is, briefly considered keeping the offspring for future experimentation but given that her life support system was more or less dead on arrival her first priority was to find a new host body, which caused no end of disaster. Something about her pregnant host had made compatibility with a male body an unfortunate impossibility as there was evidently a series of necrotic blood, tissue, liver, and plumbing issues that made using one of the flight guard for more than a few hours of flight (before the body literally crashed from hypothermic exposure among other problems) an unfortunate rejection as far as practical utility was concerned.

Her current host was more or less someone in the wrong place at just the right time, as is typical of most insects smattering the windshield of a moving vehicle. Only in this case the vehicle was an automated train and for whatever aesthetic reasons both ends looked like a caboose, but were in reality porticol vestibules. Naturally, the observation deck of said train was bound to attract the interest of certain youths with a sense of adventure, and since riding the train was almost like flying someone was bound to do something very stupid (like hanging out an open window with the eagerness of a puppy) while traveling at speeds close to 150 odd miles per hour…

The splat of the zombie sky blue Pegasus against the ironically developed marine windows, traveling in the opposite direction at mach speeds (complete with maggots that somehow managed to infest the body) as it decomposed in flight (save for the few organs needed to keep the alien parasite alive, naturally) was an unexpected surprise … especially given that the pony formerly known as Apple Bloom was spitting out maggots and attempting to wipe the putrid rotting corpse juices out of her eyes. A horrendous task given that her eyes were burning and she was covered in a brackish red slime that was a few shades darker than something vermillion or burgundy should be.

After crawling back into the portico of the train Apple Bloom made several choking, hacking, and wheezing sounds that could easily be interpreted as reminiscent of a cat hacking up a hairball. This was followed by a whooping cough a few spit takes and her lollygagging in the sense that she was ruminating with dry heaves.

Apple Bloom was in no condition to notice much of anything, and her lack of observation skills was readily apparent when the alien parasite disengaged itself from the remains of the pegasai’s maggot infested corpse.

On the train‘s windshield, a creature now vaguely resembling a gelatinous Antarctic sea spider covered in snot took advantage of the filly’s distraction. As opportunity is often in want of presenting itself, the creature separated from the rest of the bloody pegasus pancake and crawled through the open window. As the ‘thing’s’ body was little more than a life support system for the creature inside, it’s appearance was more extra terrestrial than pony. Comprised of a few broken ribs (held together with necrotic muscle tissue it was using for added mobility like legs), another part of the creature’s snake like appearance was there to stabilize what remained of the heart, lungs, and stomach (which was being used as a temporary bladder until it could find a more suitable host to nest in). And, who could be better suited to host an alien predetor than the child with a screaming brain. The filly formerly known as Apple Bloom managed to squint open one eye long enough to know the cause of her future demise.

The last thing she saw before she blacked out and the creature latched onto her face to implant it’s putrid wing wang down her throat was Academy City’s shining glass jewel, among the sea of skyscrapers, in the distance. Endymion's tower stood before her like a stairway to heaven, mocking her for attempting to fly.

Oh well, C'est la vie.