And Applejack Groped a Pinned Potshot...
Twilight looked at the Criffleball field, then at her notes, then back to the field. Her headgem and eyes lit up as she cycled through various regions of the electromagnetic spectrum. Finally, she said, "I have no idea what I'm watching."
Sunset nodded. "I'm debatably omnipotent, and I have no idea what I'm watching."
"Didn't Rainbow Dash ask you to help establish the rules?"
"Yes, and I turned her down. The last time I played a sport, I had hooves." Sunset crossed her arms. "Hated it even then."
"Aw, come on, it's simple!" Pinkie said from behind them.
Twilight flinched, then frowned. "Aren't you one of Rainbow's..." She glanced at her notes. "Skrampers?"
Pinkie shrugged. "Eh, as long as I get back before the ref notices—"
A piercing whistle rang out. "Fording! One round in the Outbox."
"Aww..." Pinkie trudged back towards the playing field.
Twilight flipped through her notes. "Rainbow Dash thought to include a penalty specifically for leaving conventional space?"
"Okay, I may have made a few suggestions." Sunset’s eyes drifted to the scoreboard. "Wait what? Did the Cardinals’ score just go down?"
Twilight was already using her magic to quickly replay the last few seconds. "...oooooh, there it is. That Charger splarched."
"What?"
"He's a Charger, not a Skramper, so... hold on." She narrowed her eyes. "Sweet SCIENCE! He leapt in front of the ball! Look!"
She ran the replay for a confused Sunset. "I... I don't understand."
"Skrampers can eliminate, but Chargers can't! But being hit by an enemy claimed ball is an elimination no matter what! The Apricots are forcing splarches, which... Oh, that's devious."
"Wait, hold on. So you're saying they're pulling fouls?"
"They're manipulating the situation so that Rainbow's team accidentally fouls and loses points!"
"Is that legal?"
Twilight took a breath, paused, and started flicking through her notes. "I... I don't think there's a rule against it..."
Rainbow Dash met the sudden point loss with her usual grace and dignity. “What the crap, ref!?”
Microchips sighed and dropped the multiview spell on his glasses, no longer doing a decent spider impression. His gift for parallel processing had made him seem like the perfect referee up until a few seconds ago. “You wrote the rules, Rainbow. A Charger threw a ball that hit an opposing player. That’d be textbook splarching if we had a textbook.”
“That jerk dove into it! Don’t tell me you didn’t see it.”
“The penalty and deduction are both automatic. The ball registers who threw it and what it hit, not why. You can’t make a program listen for intention.”
“Bullshit! This is magic we’re talking about. You think Sunset turned into a demon at the Fall Formal just because she thought it looked cool?”
A barely audible grumble came from the bleachers.
Microchips rolled his eyes. “Fine. I don’t know how to make a program to listen for intention, nor do any of the other equipment designers. All I can tell you is that we’ll need to review the rules after this game. Now are you going to let everyone keep playing, or do I have to eject you?”
Dash smirked. “For what? Never put any penalties in for yelling at the ref.”
“You want the other team to know that?”
Dash just gritted her teeth as she took off.
A few rounds later, Twilight sighed. "And Rainbow got a squiporo. She's really not going to like that." Indeed, Rainbow Dash was stomping around in the Outbox, Rarity putting a hand on her shoulder. "You know, for somebody who's usually a caster, that Apricot unicorn is a pretty good florper."
"...I have no idea what you just said," Sunset stated plainly. "I thought you didn't have any idea what was going on?"
"Well... I didn't. But this important to Rainbow, so I'm trying to--wait. OH COME ON!" She stood, clutching the stand rails. "That bomber's buzzing! Somebody get a criffleshot on her!"
"Sunset dammit, Dust Devil, you get outta there!" The shout made both girls turn to see a yellow-skinned man shouting at the bomber in question. Between the vest, the chaps, and the cowboy hat he was on the verge of throwing to the ground in disgust, he looked like a refugee from another century. "Appleoosa's better'n that!"
Sunset cleared her throat. "I take it you know him?"
The man turned, and his angry flush quickly turned into a blanch. "Oh. Uh..." He doffed his hat. "Beggin' yer pardon, Yer Radiance."
"I think that's a new one," said Twilight.
"Fairly uncommon." Sunset smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'm not really the damning type."
"Well..."
Sunset rolled her eyes. "Yes, Twilight, Tartarus exists, but I'm not going to put any people there." She shook her head and extended her hand to the man. "I assume you know me. This is Twilight Sparkle. You are?"
He gave her a shake with the firmness that could only come from earth magic. "Braeburn Apple."
"Any relation to Applejack?"
"Cousins." Braeburn sighed. "Wish I could meet ya on better terms." He scowled at the field. "Shame mah home team decided t' be a bunch o' twisty li'l sidewinders. That ain't th' Appleoosan way."
"Hmm." Sunset devoted a bit more attention to the arena. The spectators could be thought of as two harmonies in counterpoint, each united in its devotion to its respective teams. Dissatisfaction and resentment darkened the Canterlotters, of course, but they also lurked among the Appleoosans. It wasn't universal, but a lot of fans weren't happy with the questionable tactics on display.
An elbow to her ribs broke her concentration. "Your hair was starting to glow," said Twilight. "I didn't think you wanted the attention."
Sunset nodded. "Thanks." She took a deep breath. "Even if the Cardinals lose, they may win in the eye of the public."
"That's not going to make Rainbow Dash happy."
"Ain't gonna make me happy neither."
"No, it won't. Still, they're not out of this yet." Sunset looked at Twilight. "Uh, they aren't out of this yet, are they?"
She bit her lip. "Not quite."
"Oooough." Twilight winced. "That looked like it hurt. At least Rarity wasn't shunted."
"Uh... sure." Sunset blinked, pointing at the goal. "Aren't those balls worth points?"
"They're nest eggs," Twilight replied dismissively, "they only count if somebody who scores points picks them up--oh." She grinned suddenly. "Oh that is CLEVER."
"Uh..." Sunset looked from her smirk to the field. "What are you talking about--"
"I knew there was a reason Rainbow switched Pinkie to a Charger!" Twilight squealed. "Just look--"
"Is she hopping between the cliffs Rarity made?!"
"The overhang's keeping her safe from Bombers and none of the enemy Skrampers can keep up with her--GO PINKIE GO!" Twilight shrieked, waving her hands.
"Uh... yeah! Do... whatever it is you're doing--"
They both gasped suddenly.
"Mmmyep," Braeburn drawled. "That's why Obelisk's our Caster."
"Welp. And that Skramper hit her. Guess that's a Trap."
"...Twilight, is this a sport or a card game?!"
"There are elements of both," Twilight admitted. After a moment, she frowned. "Wait, where's the whistle?"
"Where's th' ball?" added Braeburn.
Many of the players were similarly confused. All but two. Rainbow Dash was smirking and pointedly not looking anywhere in particular. And the second...
Microchips blew the whistle. Sunset leaned back, crossed her arms, and smiled. "I'm not entirely sure, but I'm pretty sure something amazing just happened."
"Huh?"
"What?"
The stands had gone silent as the crowd processed what happened. All eyes turned to the Apricots' goal, where a Criffler had touched down amidst the nest eggs.
"Fluttershy?" said Twilight.
Braeburn did a double take. "Wait, when did she change positions?" He scratched. "Wait, did she change positons? Truth be told, I don't recall even seein' her on th' field."
"She does that," Sunset said with a smile. "She's been there the entire time. Between Pinkie and Rainbow, I'm amazed anyone's noticed anyone else."
Slowly, as everyone realized the outcome of the play, howls of joy and sorrow shook the stands.
Author's Note
Despite the best efforts of the other teams, the Canterlot Cardinals came in second overall, beaten only by the Fillydelphian Funkbeaters. Pinkie would later quit Criffleball in favor of 43-Man Squamish.
