The CD player clicked and loud sounds of distorted guitars filled the room. A short girl with long, red hair spun in place, her eyes closed. She was wearing a lab coat, jeans, and a brightly-coloured t-shirt with “Cool Kids Don’t Do Drugs” written on the front in large letters. Her shoes were lying by the wall; she kicked them off since they weren’t quite suited to dancing.

She jumped, her hair briefly touching the ceiling. Then she stood on her hands, spreading her legs to keep balance. Slowly, she raised one hand off the ground and touched her knee with it. Her muscles protested against this uncomfortable position. Her glasses nearly fell off her nose, but she didn’t care; blood filled her brain, bringing a fresh wave of oxygen and new ideas.

The music was abruptly cut short. She sighed and jumped back to her feet, straightening her curly hair.

“Twist, what the fuck are you doing?” an older, yellow-skinned girl asked, staring at the CD-player. “What was that, Gary Glitter? You’re not his type, you know, being a high school senior and stuff.”

“Is getting a stick up there a part of going to the college, sis?” Twist asked. “Also, it’s The Fledgeling Changeling.” She smiled, showing her braces. “You’d know about them if you listened to something else than songs that were written before our parents were born, Bonnie.”

“Ah, this band,” Bon Bon muttered. “Wasn’t their vocalist replaced by a changeling by any chance?”

“No, he was a changeling all along,” Twist replied, jumping in excitement. “Isn’t that cool?”

“Yeah, but changelings aren’t real anyway.” Bon Bon sighed and looked at her sister’s t-shirt. “What is that, even? Cool kids don’t do drugs?”

Twist adjusted her glasses and raised one of her eyebrows. “They don’t,” she replied. “I don’t do drugs. I make them. There’s a difference in meaning, although you’ve never paid attention during classes with Ms. Aryanne.”

“Shut up,” Bon Bon muttered. “Last time I checked, I was studying chemistry, not English. Also, everyone who paid attention during this classes turned into a grammar Na–”

“These classes.” Twist rolled her eyes.

Bon Bon gave her sister a nasty look and walked to the closet. There, hidden in a box at the very bottom of it, were two yellow hazmat suits. “Enough of that,” Bon Bon said. “Let’s cook.”

A few minutes later, they were both in the basement. The entrance to this room was cleverly hidden behind the wall. To open it, one had to play first four bars of Kitten on the Keys on the piano standing in the room. Bon Bon hoped she’d never become paraplegic – Twist was really bad at music.

Each of them took a place at their respective tables. The basement was a quite well-equipped lab – Bon Bon got a lot of the stuff when her university was getting rid of the old equipment and gave it a second life in her own house.

“You still make those pills?” Bon Bon shook her head, seeing her sister grabbing the ingredients and putting them on the table. “This will never make profit and if you wanna go to the college, we have to focus on what we already have, rather than test new products.”

“Sweetie liked it.”

“Sweetie would snort the contents of the vacuum cleaner bag if you told her it was cocaine.” Bon Bon sighed and grabbed the pipette. “Can’t you make heroin, like normal people?”

“I gave one pill from the last batch to some random guy at a party,” Twist replied. “He was orbiting in Wonderland for six hours and woke up wearing lingerie.” She looked back at her table. “I need to work on visions. He only gave them nine out of ten.”

“Still, that’s pretty niche,” Bon Bon replied. “I mean, kids these days prefer weed or something harder.”

“I’d rather have small but stable group of clients,” Twist muttered. “You have to find new ones every once in a while. Do you know where are the first guys you sold heroin to?” She pointed at the ceiling. “There.”

“Upstairs?”

Twist looked at her sister, unsure if she was joking, but eventually she gave up. “Yeah, upstairs. Very much upstairs, even. Definite transfer, end of story, pushing the daisies, fell off a bike forever.”

“Well, it’s not like your pills are any better,” Bon Bon muttered. “One guy woke up wearing lingerie and the other… Imagine Rainbow Dash thinking that she can fly.”

Twist opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly they heard the sounds of Kitten on the Keys coming from the upstairs. They looked at each other and at the stairs. Someone was definitely coming for them.

“Don’t worry, darlings, that’s just me.” Rarity stepped out of the shadows and looked at the lab. “I just came to see how my research and development department is doing.”

“How did you get the password?” Bon Bon asked, her throat dry.

“Oh, that wasn’t hard.” Rarity waved her hand. “You either like Zez Confrey that much, or the first four bars of Kitten on the Keys is the password.”

“Remind me to change it to something more technically demanding,” Bon Bon said to Twist. “Ligeti’s Etudes should do.”

Rarity nodded. “By the way, do you have anything ready? I was going to send Apple Bloom and Sweetie to sell some.”

“Only the two of them?” Twist asked. “What happened to Scootaloo?”

“Nothing in particular, darling,” Rarity replied. “She says that she needs spiritual renewal and moved out of her house. Currently, she lives in a cardboard box. Not because she has to, but because she can.”

“That’d explain why she smells,” Twist muttered. “I’d rather have her back. Those three work best together.”

They heard something that sounded like a very drunk kitten staggering on the keys. Bon Bon and Twist looked at Rarity, but she only shrugged. There were a few more attempts at playing the piece, but eventually they were cut abruptly.

“Fuck!” somebody yelled. “Mah sister’s bass is easier. It only has four strings.”

“Don’t look at me, I can’t play piano to save my life,” another voice replied.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Rarity muttered and walked upstairs. Bon Bon and Twist heard the sound of undoing the mechanism locking the door, and soon Rarity joined them again, accompanied by Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. Sweetie was sweating slightly; her eyes ran from Bon Bon to the equipment on her table.

“Anyone else?” Bon Bon sighed. “I thought this was supposed to be a secret, not the family business.”

“Don’t worry, darling, no one will find out,” Rarity replied. “Now, give them the drugs.”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes and walked to the cupboard hanging from the wall of the basement. She opened it and grabbed a few bags of white powder, as well as four bags of blue pills.

“That’s all for now,” she said. “The best stuff in town.”

Rarity nodded. “Yeah, we know, darling.” She turned to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. “Bloom, you’ll go to the tennis courts. Sweetie, you take the railway station. And remember, you’re supposed to sell it, not take it all by yourself. I barely stopped mom and dad from sending you to a rehab last time.”

Sweetie nodded, shuddering slightly. She’d mostly kept herself in check, but her first, accidental contact with Rarity’s coke changed her life forever. Meanwhile, Apple Bloom preferred a healthier lifestyle; she was neither into alcohol nor drugs, and she was currently pondering about eating only things she’d killed, skinned, and cooked herself.

Rarity gave them the bags and they walked away, leaving her alone with Twist and Bon Bon.

“How about the cash?” Bon Bon asked. Rarity pulled a wallet out of her bag and gave her rolled notes, tied with a rubber band.

“Your college funds,” Bon Bon muttered to Twist after Rarity left. “Look what they make me do.”

Twist shrugged. “At least you don’t eat people.”

“Hello, girls!” Tennis Match exclaimed in a chirpy tone. “What are we training today? Backhands? Drop shots?” She walked to Silver Spoon and embraced her. “Volleys?”

“Err…” Diamond Tiara swung her racket in a way suggesting that if Tennis Match doesn’t learn a definition of personal space quickly, she’ll learn about Diamond’s powerful first serve instead. “We were just going to play a match.”

“Ah, fine, then you’ll need an umpire.” Tennis Match let go off Silver Spoon and walked to the tall chair standing by the net. From there, she watched their warm-up; hardly did she know that, no matter how high standards of fair play she wanted to introduce to the courts, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon didn’t care about that.

The game started with the ball nearly brushing Silver Spoon after Diamond’s powerful serve and flying far outside the clay court.

“Fifteen love,” Tennis Match called in a tone suggesting that it was the last game of the Roland Garros final. Silver Spoon gave Diamond Tiara a nasty look.

“Did you know aiming at the opponent is definitely not fair play?” Silver Spoon asked, adjusting the band on her forehead.

“Like I care.” Diamond threw the ball up and hit it with her racket. It bounced off the other side of the court and hit Silver’s stomach. “Thirty love.”

Silver Spoon raised her racket. She’d seen that gesture on TV, but since their court had no Hawk-Eye system, it was only for show. “Hardly. Tennis Match, would you come over here? I think it was an out.”

Tennis Match got off her seat and walked to Silver Spoon. She looked at the mark left by the ball and nodded, seeing that it was indeed behind the service line. “Second service.”

“Damn.” Diamond Tiara served once again, this time much weaker. Silver Spoon immediately jumped at the opportunity, sending the ball back at the baseline. Diamond Tiara rushed to it, but all she managed to do was a rather slow backhand. Silver Spoon prepared for a finishing volley, but changed her mind halfway through, opting instead for a well-timed drop shot. Diamond ran to the net, tripping on the way and watching helplessly as the ball bounced twice on her side.

“Fifteen each,” Tennis Match deadpanned.

“I figured it out.” Silver Spoon smirked. “You hate running.”

“I don’t have to run.” Diamond Tiara served again, but Silver Spoon saw it coming. She somehow could always guess where the ball would land and send it back on Diamond’s side with unbelievable precision.

“Fifteen thirty,” Tennis Match muttered after the ball hit the net.

Fifteen thirty soon changed into forty and then a break. It took Diamond Tiara a while to get used to running and the game evened out a bit, although when they left the court an hour and a half later, she was defeated, despite winning the second set 6:2.

“Congratulations, Silvy,” Diamond Tiara said. All the trash-talking and other antics were just a part of the show and disappeared right after leaving the court and going to the changing room. “You broke my winning streak.”

“It had to happen, one day,” Silver Spoon took off her sweat-drenched sports bra and smirked at Diamond Tiara. “Come on, Di,” she said. “I’m not gonna drive with you while you smell.”

Diamond Tiara nodded and removed her dress, bra, and panties. Silver tried to avoid looking at her, but Diamond walked in front of her, shaking her hips and pink, squishy butt. For a moment, she thought that Silver was going to faint, but she just stood up, taking off her own panties.

“No funny things in the shower,” Diamond muttered, going to the door. “Tennis Match has a nasty habit of sneaking in there.”

Silver Spoon nodded and followed Diamond Tiara into the showers.

“Do you think the bouncer will let us in?” Silver asked when they were pouring water all over their bodies.

“He has to,” Diamond Tiara replied. “With enough money he’ll totally believe we’re twenty-one.” She raised her hand, smearing shower gel on her armpits. She then continued lower, leaving a white trace of foam on her breast and stomach.

Silver Spoon stood motionlessly with water drenching her hair, watching as Diamond’s finger fiddle in the small tuft of hair right above her slit. Diamond noticed Silver’s gaze and turned the tap of her shower, unleashing a stream of cold water on Silver, who tried to run away from it, but slipped on the tiles and landed on her butt.

Diamond Tiara laughed hysterically, washing the shower gel off of her back. Silver, her face bright red, stood up and started rubbing shampoo into her hair.

“I don’t get why they don’t want to let us into this club,” Silver said. “We’re eighteen, after all. We can even go into the army.”

“The army of blind carpet munchers, in your case,” Diamond muttered, slapping her bare buttock. “Though you have no trouble seeing me without your glasses, somehow.” She pulled Silver closer to herself, feeling her butt with such a force that her fingernails left red marks just next to Silver’s anus. “Also, remind me to get a sergeant’s uniform somewhere… I’ll make you do push-ups with that vibrating egg-thingy in your–”

The door to the showers opened and Tennis Match peeked inside. “Sorry girls, but I’d like to remind you that soon I’ll have classes with a group of fifth-graders and their parents complain a lot whenever the kids see someone naked in the changing room.”

“Well, it’s a changing room.” Diamond Tiara let go off Silver Spoon. “People change their clothes here.”

“Yeah.” Silver Spoon nodded. “And their children probably already played the doctor in kindergarten.”

“Tell that to some stuck-up cunt who thinks her fat daughter is the next goddamn Serena Williams and I have to agree with her because she pays my bills,” Tennis Match replied and turned to Diamond Tiara. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Diamond Tiara deadpanned when Tennis Match closed the door. She and Silver Spoon wrapped themselves in towels and went back to the changing room.

“Gee, why is my schedule so tight?” Silver Spoon put on a leather collar with a silver heart hanging in the front. “I won’t have time for a make-up.”

“You call it sche– ah, nevermind,” Diamond Tiara muttered. “You can just do your make-up in the car.” She grabbed a long rope and tied it around her body in a sophisticated way, so it’d rub her crotch and tits with every move. Only then she put on her panties, bra, and the rest of her regular clothes.

“Yeah, praying for my life with every second,” Silver Spoon muttered, putting her dress and jacket over a tight, black spandex suit. “Did you find your driving licence in a bag of chips?”

“At least I didn’t crash into a truck full of nuclear waste during my driving exam,” Diamond Tiara replied, checking if the whip was in a bag with her tennis racket. She also had a ball gag hidden with tennis balls, but she was sure it was there.

Finally, they left the club and walked to Diamond Tiara’s car – a black ‘69 Ford Mustang with several scratches and dents on its body. Soon, accompanied by curses, screeching of the tyres, and screams of scared fifth-graders, the Ford left the parking lot to wreak havoc in the town.

Apple Bloom hated her life in general, but this day definitely took the cake.

First, she had to sit in school for most of the day, which she thought was counterproductive. After all, she learned most of the things she knew from either Applejack, Granny, Big Mac, or her own experience.

Then she saw that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were going to play tennis. Apple Bloom always wanted to play with them, but she never had money for that. Instead, she planned to either go dancing with Tender Taps, or play basketball with Ruby Pinch, proving once and for all that poor kids had bigger balls to play with. But no, Sweetie Belle just had to approach her and ask her for help with the “family business”.

If only Rarity didn’t convince Applejack that it was the only way to for Apple Bloom to go to college… If only Scootaloo helped her kick some sense int Sweetie Belle instead of “searching for nirvana by living a simple life in a cardboard box”... Apple Bloom sighed. She didn’t even want to go to college, opting instead to go to Thailand, work in her own small restaurant, and learn muay thai. But she still needed money for that.

She nearly cursed, but then she remembered that she was in a small convenience store. She snapped out of her thoughts, listening to what was going on inside.

“... I keep telling her that she won’t lose weight by going vegan, if she eats even more than before,” a guy with green dreadlocks and a basket full of bananas said, partially to the clerk, and partially to Vinyl Scratch, who was standing between him and Apple Bloom. “She eats forty bananas a day, like some motherfucking gibbon…”

Vinyl nodded and the guy finally walked away. As soon as the clerk saw the DJ, he gave her a pack of cigarettes and a box of cookies, but Vinyl still stood in front of him.

“Ah, it’s Wednesday,” the clerk muttered, grabbed some comic book from the rack next to him and gave it to Vinyl, who walked out.

Apple Bloom paid for her gum and walked outside of the store to see Vinyl leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, and reading the comic. Apple Bloom leaned close to her, feeling the taste of bile in her mouth. “Heroin?” she whispered.

Vinyl shook her head.

“Are you sure?” Apple Bloom asked.

Vinyl nodded and pulled her t-shirt up, revealing one of the tattoos on her flat stomach.

“Too many good guys died because of good heroin and bad women,” Apple Bloom read. “Umm… How about those blue pills? You can put them in the bowls on some rave like candies…”

Vinyl nodded and raised two fingers. Apple Bloom looked around to see if no one was watching, grabbed her backpack and produced two bags of Twist’s pills from it. Vinyl hid them in her pockets and gave Apple Bloom some folded notes from her wallet.

“Thanks,” Apple Bloom muttered, avoiding eye contact. “See ya… later.”

Vinyl waved her hand, but Apple Bloom didn’t see that, walking down the pavement. She felt the urge to throw up. Paying no attention to her surroundings, she walked further, trying to remember the way to the nearest squat full of junkies. Part of her wanted to go to the nearest police station and tell them about everything.

The screeching of the brakes caused her to raise her head. She suddenly realised that she was standing in the middle of the street and the front of a big, black car was approaching her at a really fast pace.

In a split second, her body made a decision. She jumped, hoping to land safely on the hood of the car, like a kid in one movie she saw. Unfortunately, all she achieved was that instead of getting under the wheels, she got hit in the calf.

The bones snapped. Apple Bloom screamed, landing on the hood and rolling off of it. Her backpack flew to the side and she hit the concrete surface with her tailbone and head.

The world spun around her when she sat down, trying to get her bearings. Her hair cushioned the fall, but she still could feel blood drenching them. Her leg was numb, but she knew that soon it’d explode in pain.

The door of the car opened, smacking her in the forehead. Apple Bloom fell on the concrete again, seeing only the wheel and a part of Silver Spoon’s boots.

“Apple Bloom?” Silver screamed. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Shit. Not this again,” Diamond Tiara muttered. “How is she?”

“Alive,” Silver replied. “You should’ve driven slower. What are you doing with her backpack?”

“She’ll learn to look both ways. It’s not even zebra crossing, you know.” Diamond Tiara leaned over Apple Bloom and showed one of the heroin bags to Silver. “We’d better take that away from her. If someone finds her with this, she may go to jail.”

“Yeah, sure,” Silver Spoon muttered. “Your care of her is totally touching. Why do you need her phone and wallet then?”

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “Okay… What are we doing with her?”

“Call the ambulance, moron.” Silver looked into Apple Bloom’s eyes. “How many fingers can you see, Bloom?”

“My leg…”

Diamond Tiara grabbed her phone. “Hello, hospital?” she asked. “Name’s Vinyl Scratch. Some wanker just ran a girl over and ran away near the store on Marsupials Street. Yeah, looks really bad. What? Big, black, with a blue shield and a lightning painted on the hood. Yeah, call the police too. She’s conscious, I think. Yeah, see ya later.”

“Why did you say you’re Vinyl?” Silver asked.

“I saw her on the way.”

“But they’ll know that it wasn’t her!” Silver exclaimed. “Her voice is different!”

“Have you ever heard her voice?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“Oh…” Silver furrowed her eyebrows. “Okay. But why did you describe Flash Sentry’s car to them?”

Diamond Tiara sat in her car and drove it back a bit. “That was Flash’s car? Well, sucks to be him.” She heard the ambulance and police sirens getting closer to them. “Come on, Silvy, we’d better not be here when they arrive…”

Beeping of the alarm clock woke Twilight from a dream filled with the sounds of the washing machine. She shuddered, turning in her bed, and looked at the book lying on the nightstand. It was still glowing green. Twilight yawned and put her glasses on and grabbed the book.

Deciphering the German text was hard, especially in the morning. To make matters worse, she couldn’t get rid of the image of Sunset Shimmer sitting on the top of her washing machine.

“Hmm, according to this, the world is in danger,” Twilight muttered. “That, or it’s full of recipes for fish.”

The train of her thoughts quickly got derailed, though still stayed with the general topic of fish. Twilight remembered something Rainbow Dash once said and what she hadn’t understood back then. She furrowed her eyebrows and put one of her hands under the blanket. After a while, she pulled it out and sniffed her fingers.

“Excited like a blind lesbian in the fish market!” Twilight exclaimed. “I get it now!”

The smell made her realise that she couldn’t really focus on the book right now. Instead, she opened the closet near her bed and grabbed a jar of peanut butter.

“Spike!” Twilight called, kicking off her blankets.

Author's Note

Trivia: The original skype conversation where this story was born had a lenghty story arc where Apple Bloom was a child of Applejack and Big Mac and was too dumb to realise that Applejack kept trying to kill her (including, but not limited to burying her alive). It got axed because it didn't make sense, even in context.

Other subplot that didn't make it involved Rarity getting pregnant. With Spike the dog. In my defence, it was 2 AM for me back then.