Springtime for Shimmer.

by Samey90

Rating: mature
Tags: Fetish, Comedy, Profanity, Scootaloo, Adventure, Violence, Twilight Sparkle (EqG), Sex, Death, Sunset Shimmer, Narcotics, Gore, Dazzlings, Dark, Alternate Universe, Equestria Girls, Trixie
Length: 58098

Sunset Shimmer's untimely panty raid brings on the apocalypse.

A few years in a completely different world changes people and ponies alike. Sunset Shimmer experiences that first-hand when, after finishing school, she somehow finds herself on a mission to steal everyone's panties. However, before she realises what she's doing with her life, she learns something she really should've known better.

You don't steal Twilight's underwear. Just don't. Especially not in the town where wannabe-drug lords, hippies, and other forces of evil can roam freely.

Pre-read by Bootsy Slickmane.
All characters depicted in sexual context are 18 or older. Usually older.
Warning: due to the basic idea being conceived before Friendship Games and the whole thing being written this summer, this fic completely disregards Legend of Everfree. Maybe that's for the best.
Warning #2: Well, actually, you don't need a warning. It's easy to figure out from the description just how unsafe for your brain it is.

Published 2016-10-12 21:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-11-12 21:56:28 UTC

Come As You Are

There were times in every man’s life when he had to ask himself three questions and then answer them in as honest a way as possible. Unfortunately for Flash Sentry, it wasn’t one of these days. The questions were not the ones he ever expected to ask himself in his life.

What am I doing here?

What happened last night?

Why am I wearing female underwear?

Although Flash didn’t quite wake up yet, he felt that there was no good answer to at least one of them. Trying not to ponder them for a while, he opened his eyes and found himself on a cold floor in someone’s kitchen, right next to several bags of trash, empty bottles, and other stuff he feared to identify. His head hurt and his clothes were inexplicably gone. Some good soul, however, gave him a bra and a pair of panties. The bra was too big and the panties were too small – a rather natural thing given the slight differences in anatomy.

He heard some muffled voice. In his warped state of mind, he at first mistook it for the voice of God, Faaip de Oiad, or some similar metaphysical experience. However, no matter how much Flash would deny, there was actually nothing spiritual about lying on the floor and as the voices cleared, they confirmed that.

“Have you heard the news? The leader of The Fledgeling Changeling turned out to be a changeling!”

“You should read less tabloids, Flitter,” the other voice replied. “Changelings are not real.”

“Then why is The Fledgeling Changeling named after them?” There was a brief pause and Flash suddenly realised someone was staring at him. “Hey, dude, can you lift your left hand?”

Flash, having nothing better to do, raised his left hand.

“Can you rise your right hand?”

Flash sighed, but obeyed the command.

“See, sis?” Flitter asked. “Someone threw away a perfectly fine dude.”

“Excuse me,” a third voice joined the conversation. “Sentry!”

Flash lifted his head to see Sunset Shimmer approaching him. Unlike him, she was completely dressed. For some reason, she was also holding a baseball bat.

“Hello, Sunset,” he said, trying to keep his cool, despite the situation. “A ball game so early?”

The next thing he heard was the sound of Sunset’s bat hitting a ball. Or rather two. And Flash didn’t exactly hear it since those happened to be his own balls, so his nervous system was rather preoccupied.

“What was that for?” he cried.

“For all the stuff you were doing during the party!” Sunset exclaimed. “And give me back those!”

Flash looked at the bra and panties. “Are those yours?” he asked.

“No!” Sunset yelled. “Are you implying I’m that fat?” She raised the baseball bat again. Flash decided that he couldn’t argue with such logic and decided to leave the range of Sunset’s swing in the only possible way; that is, through the window. He opened it and jumped on the grass below, losing the bra in process. Some old lady from the neighbourhood looked at him and covered her mouth as he ran across the street.

“What are you looking at?” Sunset turned back to Flitter and Cloudchaser. “Either help me clean the flat or get the fuck out! And, for God’s sake, Cloudchaser, put some pants on!”

“This is my dress,” Cloudchaser replied, pointing at her dress. “Short ones are in fashion this year.”

Sunset lowered her baseball bat. “I thought that was a t-shirt. Now, help me get everyone out of the second floor.”

When Flitter and Cloudchaser left, Sunset Shimmer looked around the kitchen and grabbed the bra Flash had lost. She examined it, but it was none of hers. Eventually, she lifted it to her nose and sniffed it.

“Just what I thought,” she muttered to herself. “Diamond Tiara’s mother.”

Twilight Sparkle lay down in her bed and opened a book. It was an ancient-looking volume with a cover made of leather and barely-visible remains of golden letters on it. Twilight got it accidentally when Sugarcoat’s uncle was making a garage sale, but she never had time to read it.

The first thing she noticed after opening the book was that she didn’t actually need a lamp to read it. For some reason, the pages were glowing green. Twilight looked at the book unsurely – she’d heard that many old, fluorescent things were simply radioactive and her first reaction was to put it back.

However, the will to read the book remained. Eventually, Twilight thought that it was probably impossible to coat paper in uranium and went back to reading the dark, old-fashioned gothic print.

Der Spiegel die jenseitige Schwarzemagie

von der Verrückt Arab, Abd el-Hazred

Dir Übersetzung von Latin: Jacob Ludwig Carl Grimm

A.D. 1863

“German,” Twilight muttered to herself. “This shouldn’t be a problem. Also, Jacob Grimm? Must be some translation of One Thousand and One Night…”

However, before Twilight could start reading and find out that her German was much worse than she gave herself credit for, she heard some noise coming from the downstairs. Spike woke up and ran to the door of her bedroom, roaring silently. Twilight sat on her bed and looked at the dog.

“Calm down, or there’ll be no more peanut butter,” Twilight muttered. Spike, however, didn’t want to leave the door, so Twilight got out of her bed and opened her closet. There, behind her old Crystal Prep uniforms, she found a shotgun, still wrapped in the same paper she had it delivered in. She unpacked it slowly and found out that she hadn’t bought any ammo to go with it.

Twilight sighed, listening to the noises, and looked at her shotgun. Eventually, she lifted it and walked out of her room. If something goes wrong, she thought to herself, I can use it as a very expensive club.

The book, left on the nightstand, started glowing even more.

She blinked. Her eyes were slowly getting used to the dark interior of the small bathroom. She could see more and more details. Tiles on the walls, laundry basket, a neatly organised stack of books and newspapers next to the toilet, a washing machine... She walked through the bathroom, feeling the cold floor under her feet. Then she stopped, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Even in the dim light, she could still see her reflection enough to admire her own beauty. The fact that she was naked was helping her in it greatly. A mass of red and yellow hair, flowing freely to her waist. Cyan eyes, piercing the mirror with a sharp gaze. A pair of perky breasts, in just the right size to squeeze them, which she promptly did. Flat stomach and a small tuft of red hair around her pussy. She used to shave it, but then she heard that it was making men hornier.

She looked at herself one more time and sighed. If she could, she’d walk like that all the time. The ponies got it right; this world could really learn from them. A thought about staying in front of the mirror for the whole night appeared in her mind. But then, she remembered why she was there.

She turned around and opened the laundry basket. She searched through it, feeling her muscles twitch in excitation. For a moment, she felt like Daring Do discovering a temple in the middle of some dangerous jungle and finding a gold statuette of some long-forgotten deity standing on an altar.

What she found, wasn’t a statuette. Still, it made her smile grow even wider. She stood in the middle of the bathroom and examined it, rubbing it with her fingers.

She swallowed her saliva, feeling that the small tuft of her pubic hair was slowly getting moist. Then she licked her lips, staring at the pair of silk, violet panties in her hands. There was a pink, six-pointed sparkle surrounded by several smaller, white sparkles on the front of them. She lifted them to her face and slowly inhaled the air, sniffing the inside of them.

Blood started to flow faster in her veins. Her nipples hardened when she started to rub her breasts with the soft fabric. A moan escaped her lips when she moved lower, to her belly button and played with it for a while.

She looked at the lingerie once again and a new idea appeared in her mind. She straightened the panties and put them on, feeling something like electricity going through her legs in places where the silk touched them.

The feeling was... interesting. The panties were a bit too tight, adhering to her skin and holding her cheeks in a warm embrace. There was a darker spot in the middle of them, just where the sparkle was. She lowered her hand and rubbed it, feeling the wetness on her fingers. She sniffed the air and the smell of her arousal caused her to moan again. The sweet flavour of the panties was now mixing with her own.

She licked her fingers and swallowed her saliva, letting the taste flow down her throat. Then she started to play with her nipple with her left hand, while she lowered her right hand again, this time sliding it into the panties and toying with her labia.

She stood with her legs apart, the panties nearly snapping, and started to stroke her pussy vigorously. She bit her lip and closed her eyes when the jolts of pleasure assaulted her brain. Burying her fingers deep into her pussy, she threw her head backwards and gave out a muffled moan. Then she rested herself against the sink, panting heavily.

She didn’t push herself over the edge, however. Not yet. She knew her body far too well to finish with it so early. The rubber of the panties dug deeply into her skin when she ruffled her pubes, leaving red marks around her waist. She took them off and looked around, searching for a new idea.

Finally, her eyes rested on the washing machine standing in the corner. She sat on it, shuddering when her cheeks touched the cold surface. She looked at the panties and sniffed them once more, which caused her clit to twitch, sending a wave of pleasure spreading through her whole body. Catching her breath again, she spread her legs as wide as she could and crumpled the panties into a small, silky ball. Then she spread her labia with her fingers and, shivering from pleasure, slid the ball inside of her. Only a small piece of violet fabric was protruding from her pussy.

Without waiting any further, she turned the washing machine on, feeling it come to life under her. The panties rubbed against the walls of her pussy and the tingling sensation caused her brain to go into overdrive. Caressing her clit with her index and middle finger, she leaned forward.

The vibrations of the washing machine caused her to moan. She gritted her teeth, suppressing it, but it was no use – she was already too far up the hill. She stopped squeezing her breasts and teased her anus with one finger, wondering if she could find some lube there. Not that it was a problem – she’d actually deflowered her behind with an old marker covered in liquid soap, but she didn’t want to try that again – getting the soap out was hard, not to mention the itch.

The door opened and Twilight Sparkle stepped into the laundry room, turning on the light. She was wearing a really nice pajamas with suns and moons on them. She was also holding a shotgun, but that was the least of her concerns. “Sunset! What are you doing here?” Twilight asked, her mouth agape.

Sunset said nothing, completely focused on the damp area between her legs. Her juices were slowly flowing down the washing machine and pooling on the floor. She retreated her fingers from between her cheeks and pulled Twilight’s panties out of her pussy, exhaling the air loudly.

“Sunset! What the–”

Sunset looked into Twilight’s wide eyes and with a one, sharp motion of her hand, she sent herself over the edge. Just before her vision blurred, she managed to see Twilight’s pupils shrinking to pinpricks when she looked at the fountain of juices pouring on the floor and her panties, or rather a pitiful piece of soaked silk. Sunset groaned, her muscles contracting almost painfully. Her nostrils were assaulted by another sharp smell and she realised that her bladder gave up when she came. It was no use holding it now. The puddle on the floor was slowly reaching to the sink.

Her muscles loosened up; she rested herself against the wall behind the washing machine and waited till her breath steadied. The last drops of her urine escaped her. She wiped herself with the panties, or rather smeared her fluids all over her belly.

“S-sunset...” Twilight muttered, staggering slightly and trying not to look at the red tuft of hair between Sunset’s still spread legs. “W-why... How...”

Sunset stood up, carefully avoiding stepping into puddle of her juices and pee and walked out of the bathroom, giving Twilight her panties when she was passing next to them. Twilight grabbed them automatically and dry heaved when she realised what they were covered in. Before she could react, she heard the door of her house slamming. This woke her up. She dropped the panties and rushed to her window, only to see Sunset Shimmer, still naked, slowly walking to her car, parked on the other side of the street.

Author's Note

Trivia: The washing machine scene is the oldest written part of this fic – most of it was written in one go on October 9th, 2014. There exists an alternative take on this scene, written by Bootsy Slickmane on the same day as a "let's write the same thing to see how our styles vary" kind of challenge. They vary a lot.

Trivia #2: It all escalated from "what colour would Sunset's underwear be?".

Purple Haze

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.

Gun Street Girl

Author's Note

Warning: Readers with an allergy to certain bodily fluids may want to skip the final scene of this chapter. Tbh, this scene almost got deleted, but then I was like, "meh, the readers will have to swallow it".

Gun Street Girl

Twilight groaned and raised her head from the toilet. While the whole peanut butter thing was rather fun, she had a nasty attack of second thoughts after she was done. They quickly went from her brain to her stomach, ending with a violent expulsion of its contents.

She stood up, her legs trembling, flushed the toilet and walked out of the bathroom. The first thing she saw was Spike standing in the middle of the room and licking his lips while looking at the jar of peanut butter and back at her.

For a moment, Twilight’s feelings were very conflicted. In fact, it was like all her organs were fighting each other. Eventually, the stomach won with lower regions. Twilight turned back and ran back to the toilet again.

The book glowed harder before flashing pale light and opening itself.

The ceiling of the ambulance was probably the prettiest thing Apple Bloom had seen in her entire life. At least as far as the things she remembered go, and she didn’t remember all that much.

She couldn’t exactly enjoy the view because of all the paramedics running around her, poking her with needles and trying to shove tubes up her nose. The tubes she had in other places were quite itchy, which was even worse.

Finally, the ambulance disappeared, replaced by some dull, green ceiling. Apple Bloom tried to look at the nurses, but she couldn’t turn her neck. She couldn’t feel anything below it either and this fact started to bug her.

“Damn gingers,” someone above her muttered. “I’m not sure if she’s still bleeding or her hair always looks like that.”

“Just cut it.” The other voice was quick and slightly quivering. “She’ll survive with a new hairstyle, but not with the wind blowing in her occipital lobe.”

“What are y’all doin’ to me?” Apple Bloom asked, trying to get up. There was some strange beeping coming from the outside and it was really getting on her nerves.

“Watch out, she woke up.” One of the masked people above Apple Bloom turned to her. “Do you remember what happened?”

“You’re askin’... very hard questions…” Apple Bloom muttered. The beeping in the background changed into one, continuous beep. Apple Bloom turned towards the source of the noise, but then everything suddenly turned black.

The club didn’t look like a very successful enterprise. In fact, it looked like a small, abandoned shop with boarded up windows. Looking at it, one would maybe find it strange that a completely empty building was fitted with massive, metal door to keep anyone from getting inside, but most of the people didn’t trouble themselves with such details.

Diamond Tiara was not most of the people. She parked the car on the pavement and got out of it. Then she yanked Silver Spoon from it with a leash attached to Silver’s collar. Together, they walked to the door and Diamond knocked three times in a rapid succession. She made a short pause and knocked twice slowly.

A small slit in the door opened and they saw a pair of curious eyes staring at them. Diamond Tiara knew well who they belonged to – the gatekeeper of the kingdom of ultimate depravity, spreading in the humble store’s dungeon, as well as a part of the old sewers beneath the street. She was planning to get there for ages; or at least since she first heard about orgies with midgets and snorting coke from the stomach of a mysterious, hermaphroditic prostitute from Ouagadougou.

“You again,” the voice from the other side of the door muttered. “ID or get the fuck out.”

“Well, of course I have an ID.” Diamond Tiara took a pack of banknotes from her purse and put it in the slit.

“Benjamin Franklin, huh?” the bouncer asked. “I’m afraid you don’t exactly look like the guy in the photo…” The notes fell out of the slit in the door. “Get out.”

Diamond Tiara grabbed one of the bags of heroin she took from Apple Bloom. “How about this?”

“This, I may take,” the bouncer replied. “How much do you have?”

“A lot.” Diamond Tiara slid the bags into the opening. “There are also those blue pills. I don’t know what they do.”

“I know,” Silver Spoon said. “I saw it on youtube. Some guy was dancing in a bra after them.” She turned to Diamond Tiara. “To think about it, your mother has a similar bra…”

“How do you know about my mom’s bras?” Diamond Tiara asked. “Even I don’t pay attention to them!”

"Distinctive smell of spoiled milk," Silver Spoon deadpanned.

Diamond Tiara groaned and turned back to the door. “Okay, you may now let us in. It’s all we got.”

“Wait,” the bouncer replied. “I say I’d take them. I didn’t mention letting you two in. Come back in three years.” The window in the door closed.

“What?” Diamond Tiara exclaimed. “That bastard! Should I call some guys to burn this place down, or what?”

“You already did and they sent you the guy’s head in a cardboard box,” Silver Spoon replied. “Let’s go. My ass is freezing in those tights. And we always have our rented flat.”

Diamond Tiara sighed. “Yeah… The flat again…”

“Where are they?”

Apple Bloom opened her eyes slowly. Everything around her was blurry; she couldn’t exactly tell much about her surroundings, except of that the walls were blue. Or maybe those weren’t walls? Apple Bloom felt so light and happy, that she could as well be dead. It didn’t bother her much. Maybe heaven wasn’t Thailand, but she was pretty sure they also had non mai phai there; otherwise it wouldn’t be heaven.

“The drugs. Where they are?”

Apple Bloom blinked and identified a mass of white, pink, and grey sitting by her bed as Sweetie Belle. She was wearing one of Rarity’s more casual dresses and a black hat. Its brim was covering her eyes, but Apple Bloom could notice tears running down her cheeks.

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. It sharpened her vision a bit, but also send jolts of pain down her brain. “Oh my gosh, Apple Bloom, are you okay?” she said in a high-pitched voice. “Yes, Ah’m totally okay, Ah only got hit by a car! Geez, Sweetie! Ah could’ve died or become quadriplegic and ya are askin’ about them drugs?”

Sweetie said nothing, staring at Apple Bloom. For a while, all Apple Bloom could hear was the beeping of her heart monitor.

“What?” she asked. “Am Ah quadriplegic?”

“No!” Sweetie exclaimed.

“Paraplegic?”

“No,” Sweetie replied, this time much calmer.

“Did Ah lie for ten years in a coma?” Apple Bloom asked. “No, this can’t be. In ten years, ya’ll either be dead of overdose or chillin’ in an exclusive rehab in Switzerland or somewhere.”

“Maybe,” Sweetie Belle muttered. “But the thing is, the drugs disappeared and Rarity wants them back. Did you sell all of them?”

“No,” Apple Bloom muttered. She heard that her heart monitor started to go faster. “And thank God that Ah’m on morphine, because Ah want to punch ya so hard.”

“Then who has them?” Suddenly Sweetie Belle looked at Apple Bloom’s IV drip. “You have morphine here?”

Apple Bloom furrowed her eyebrows, but recalling all the events from before the accident was hard; all she got was a headache. “Ah don’t remember. And leave this drip.”

“There has to be something…” Sweetie Belle sighed. “Listen, Rarity is gonna kill me, then Twist will revive me only for Bon Bon to kill me again. You don’t want that, do you? Do you?” She patted Apple Bloom’s head.

The monitor started to beep even faster.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Applejack,” the doctor said. “I’m afraid that you can’t visit your sister right now.”

“Why?” Applejack asked. “Did something happen to her?”

“The head injury is probably much more complicated than we initially thought,” the doctor replied, looking at the X-ray of Apple Bloom’s skull. “For some reason, she became prone to aggression attacks, even though her brain doesn’t show any signs of damage in those areas.”

“Aggression attacks?” Applejack raised her eyebrows. “What in tarnation…”

“Also, we’ll have to put her leg back together again,” the doctor continued. “Kicking someone with a cast on may hurt them more, but doesn’t exactly help, as far as the leg’s integrity is concerned.”

“Ah’ll have to have a talk with her,” Applejack muttered. “That’s not how we raised her! Casting integrities at people…”

“I’d be more concerned about using a catheter to strangle someone.” The doctor nodded. “I’ve seen many aggressive patients, but none of them were that… creative.”

“Mah girl…” Applejack chuckled. “Did she succeed?”

“No.”

“Dagnabbit,” Applejack muttered. “Once she gets out of the hospital, we’ll start training with the lasso more, Ah promise.”

“What for?” the doctor asked, looking at Applejack unsurely.

Applejack smirked. “Family business!”

Rarity sighed in the most cultured of ways, lying down on her couch. She reached for a bottle of wine standing on the small table next to her and poured herself a glass. Holding it near her face, she looked at the colour. Then she smelled it, trying to catch all the subtle nuances of taste.

“Ruby port,” Rarity muttered to herself. “This should do.” She took a sip.

Somebody knocked at the door. Rarity gave out another sigh. “Nobody can enter my wine tasting room!”

“But it’s very important, sis!” Sweetie Belle called. Just after hearing her voice, Rarity remembered that her wine tasting room occasionally also doubled as her smoking room and she started to wonder if there were some cigars left in the humidor.

“Come in,” Rarity said after a brief pause.

The door opened and Sweetie Belle stepped in, treading carefully on thick, red carpet. She looked at the finest collection of paintings on the walls, including van Gogh’s View of the Sea at Scheveningen, Vermeer’s The Concert, and van Klomp’s The Fallen Madonna. Sweetie always wondered how Rarity got them.

Rarity turned towards Sweetie. Her eyes widened when she saw her sister limping, with a black eye and a blue trace around her neck. Her dress was torn and her hat was nowhere to be seen.

“What happened to you?” Rarity asked.

“Apple Bloom,” Sweetie replied. “She didn’t take my questioning well.”

“Must be in a shock after the accident,” Rarity muttered. “Poor little darling…”

“How about me?” Sweetie Belle asked, wincing when she stood on her injured leg. Her head hurt; she’d noticed earlier that Twist’s pills had a mean side effect of giving her flashbacks even days after taking them. She looked around, but there were no fairies or dragons to be seen.

“Well, if she didn’t tell you anything…”

“She did,” Sweetie muttered, staring at the carpet. “By the end, she remembered that it was Diamond Tiara.”

“Why’d Diamond Tiara take our drugs?” Rarity took a sip of her wine. “She’s not the one to do drugs… Too bad, since, unlike some other people, she can afford them.”

“That’s what I asked,” Sweetie said. “Or rather, tried to, since she was trying to strangle me. And then the doctors came and I couldn’t talk to her anymore.”

Rarity nodded slowly. “Well, darling, that’s not important at the moment. The question is, what will we do about that?”

“Talk with Spoiled Rich?”

Rarity waved her hand, barely stopping herself from smacking her forehead with it. “No, of course not. The less people know, the better.” She looked into Sweetie’s eyes. “You’ll go to Diamond Tiara and talk with her.”

“Now?” Sweetie asked. “Or I can talk with her at school and–”

“No,” Rarity replied. “She took drugs from Apple Bloom. Then you’ll come to her to get them back. She’ll know that we sell them… She’ll know too much. You two will have a conversation of her life, Sweetie.” She walked to the chest of drawers next to the fireplace and opened the top drawer. “Maybe not the most memorable, but definitely the last…” She went back to her couch, holding a box in her hands.

“What is this?” Sweetie asked, her eyes following the box curiously.

“Well, darling, you can get much farther with it and a kind word, than just a kind word.” Rarity opened the box and produced a small, shiny gun from it. “You’ll take it to Diamond Tiara, ask her where she hid the drugs and then convince her not to talk about meeting you. Forever. Then you’ll call me and I’ll help you with the body.”

“Should I do that in school?” Sweetie Belle took the gun and looked down the barrel. “Principal Celestia wouldn’t like that. Since that one incident with Moondancer–”

Rarity sighed. This time, it was a very unladylike sigh. “No, Sweetie. Follow her and drag her to some remote place before talking.”

“Okay.” Sweetie pulled the slide of the gun and spun it like a cowboy in an old western. “Whoa…” she muttered when the gun fired, nearly breaking her finger.

“Don’t do that.” Rarity looked at the remains of the wine glass in her hand. The bullet went through it and hit a copy of Abraham Lincoln’s portrait hanging on the wall right between the eyes.

Sweetie smiled sheepishly. “Sure.” She tried to hide the gun in her pocket, only to realise that her dress had none. “I’d better find some more comfortable clothes for this mission.” She bowed slightly and walked out of the room.

Rarity sighed, lying on her couch. Then she grabbed the bottle of wine and took a large sip from it.

Rainbow Dash stood in the middle of the gym and cleared her throat. “Okay, guys,” she said. “As you know, my friend’s sister had an accident…”

Everybody in the gym turned towards her. In the other part of the room, Trixie turned back, only to fall off the treadmill.

“Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna make a blood donation,” Rainbow Dash continued. “Anyone coming with me?”

“Yeah!” Bulk Biceps exclaimed, raising a dumbbell.

“Sure,” Thunderlane said.

“Of course,” Flitter and Cloudchaser replied simultaneously.

Trixie turned the treadmill off and walked to the sisters. “Would you stop speaking in unison? It creeps me out.”

Cloudchaser chuckled. “Would it be better–”

“– if we finished each other’s sentences?” Flitter asked. “Anyway, the chest fly machine is free, if you want to use it.”

Trixie looked at the device unsurely and sat on the seat. She put her hands on the handles and tried to move them, but they didn’t budge. Trixie groaned and lowered her head.

Rainbow Dash walked to her. “You may want to choose a smaller weight,” she said. “Nobody lifted ninety pounds on their first day.”

“That’s not fair,” Trixie muttered. “Cloudchaser lifts ninety like it’s nothing.” It was indeed her first time in the gym; earlier, she went to “Stop The Oppressive Tyranny of Body Shamers” support group once, only to discover that they were mostly whining and eating chocolate ice cream. Trixie hated chocolate ice cream.

“Yes, but she also started small,” Rainbow Dash replied, changing the weight to much more manageable thirty pounds. “Call me if you need help with your training. I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Trixie never starts small,” Trixie muttered when Rainbow Dash left.

“Well, Trixie should.” Flitter smirked. “By the way, who the hell is Trixie?”

There was only one thing Rainbow Dash liked more than trainings. Well, maybe two things, if one included long discussions about how MiG-29 was better than F-16 or vice versa. Anyway, the thing Rainbow Dash liked the most at that moment was a long, hot shower that was soothing her stiff muscles and calming her down. She poured water on her hair, singing some song at the same time. Shaking her head, she opened her eyes and looked down at her body, rinsing the shower gel from it.

She loved to admire the beauty of her naked body. After all, nobody but her deserved to watch it. Rainbow Dash was aware of what the boys at school thought about her, but she didn’t care. They could waste hundreds of tissues masturbating to the image of her, but they could never get the original.

Finally, Rainbow Dash closed the tap and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her waist. She walked out of the shower and stood in the middle of the bathroom, enjoying the slight breeze chilling her nipples. She knew that at any moment some other girl could go there to take a shower, but it didn’t bother her. After all, they all had breasts too, though they weren’t as awesome as hers. Nothing to be ashamed about.

Stretching her muscles, she reached to the shelf to grab a deodorant. She was about to use it, when she heard something. She stood, motionless, listening to the sound of bare feet on the tiles in the second part of the shower room. Trying to be as quiet as possible, Rainbow Dash creeped to the door, hiding behind the wall to surprise the mysterious assailant.

She took a deep breath and jumped from behind her cover. “Snails, you creepy little wanker, leave my panties and get the fu–” She paused mid-sentence, seeing that she was only partially right. The person in front of her definitely wasn’t Snails. Snails didn’t have long, bacon-coloured hair, second-best tits in Canterlot High (first place was, of course, occupied by Rainbow’s beautiful bosom), and the cyan eyes that could make any guy jizz his pants just by looking at him.

Sunset Shimmer was squatting on the floor, Rainbow Dash’s sweaty t-shirt in her hand. She was sniffing it with her eyes half-closed. Her other hand was wandering somewhere between her legs, covering a small patch of red pubes. When Sunset realised Dash’s presence, she opened her eyes and made a move as if she wanted to run away.

“Wait,” Rainbow Dash said, smirking. “You know... I have nothing against that... Really...”

“Oh...” Sunset smiled sheepishly. “You know, after I pulled that stunt on Twilight... I wasn’t sure if she was going to come or throw up...”

“Yeah, that’s our Twilight...” Rainbow Dash muttered. “But you know... Fetishes are fun and games, but you have to pay for sniffing my t-shirt...” She untied the towel and let it fall to the ground, revealing the only part of Rainbow Dash she liked more than her breasts.

Sunset smirked, seeing that Dash’s pubes were not only rainbow-coloured, but also shaved in a way resembling a landing strip, just like any true aviation fan should do. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“It’ll be a little surprise...” Rainbow Dash replied. “Lay down, Sunset, and close your eyes...”

Sunset obeyed the command, shuddering slightly when her back touched the cold floor. Rainbow Dash approached her and kneeled above her face, positioning herself. During the shower, she had been feeling a rising pressure in her bladder and she couldn’t bring herself to listen to Fluttershy who kept telling them that the should relieve themselves while showering. It had something to do with saving water, Rainbow Dash wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter much now.

“Ready to taste the rainbow?” Rainbow Dash asked. “You know, to have a rainbow... You need a rain first!” With these words, she relaxed her muscles.

Sunset made a gagging sound, but soon she calmed down. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath and looked down. To her surprise, she saw that Sunset was dealing with “tasting the rainbow” pretty well, not spilling a single drop. Rainbow reached to her labia and spread them, letting the last drops drip into Sunset’s mouth. Sunset swallowed and for a while was lying on the floor, panting heavily and rubbing her belly.

“So, now you can– What are you...” Rainbow Dash gasped when Sunset suddenly grabbed her ass and raised her head, bringing her lips to Dash’s pussy. The first time her tongue touched her clit almost sent Rainbow over the edge. After all, she was the fastest girl in Canterlot High, especially when she’d just satisfied one of her numerous kinks. It wasn’t long before her mind went blank and she fell on the floor, moaning and panting while Sunset sat on her stomach and started to rub her crotch against it, helping herself with her fingers. She threw her head backwards and gave out a muffled scream, her juices dripping on Rainbow’s stomach and pooling in her belly button.

Rainbow blacked out for a moment and when she woke up, Sunset wasn’t there. Her t-shirt also was gone.

“Well...” Rainbow Dash muttered, putting a finger in her belly button and licking it; the pungent taste made her want to give herself yet another massage with a happy end. “Seems that I’ll have to shower again...”

Land of Confusion

Scootaloo’s life wasn’t very complicated.

She just went back from school and threw her backpack into the cardboard box. Or rather, a mother of all the cardboard boxes, a monstrosity made of paper gathered all around the town and taking most of the backstreet. It had a living room, two bedrooms, a small kitchen, and a toilet cleverly located just above the manhole. The only thing it didn’t have was a shower, so Scootaloo had to wander around the town, searching for a source of running water. For example, she used to taking showers in the gym, but after she heard what Rainbow Dash and Sunset Shimmer were doing there, she decided to change the place.

She smiled to herself and sat on her porch. Her insanely rich parents kept sending detectives to find her, thinking that she was kidnapped – she’d staged it pretty well and, since her parents were usually on business trips, they hardly noticed that she kept going to school.

To be fair, the detectives weren’t that bright either. Only two so far found her cardboard home and it took only coffee, girl scout cookies, and sexual favours for them to go away and tell her parents that she was probably in Mexico.

Scootaloo chuckled and searched her pockets. After the English classes, Twist went to her and gave her some blue pill as “free sample”. Scootaloo shook her head; Twist firmly believed in marketing laws, even when it came to black market. But Scootaloo was not a kind of person who’d say “no” to any substances that could open her doors of perception a little more. She even smoked vegan, gluten-free weed with Fluttershy and her weird friend Tree Hugger once. It was awful and probably spiked with something – Scootaloo later dreamed about Rarity having sex with Twilight Sparkle’s dog, which wasn’t something she’d like to see again. Especially since many of her dreams just happened to be prophetic.

“Twist, I count on you.” Scootaloo placed the blue pill on her tongue and swallowed it.

Nothing happened. One of Scootaloo’s neighbours, a homeless junkie named Hotshot passed by.

“Good afternoon, Hotshot,” Scootaloo said.

“Hello,” Hotshot replied, shuddering. Scootaloo guessed he was suffering from withdrawal. Sweetie also had such symptoms from time to time, but they weren’t as bad.

Just when Scootaloo thought that maybe she should call Twist, she suddenly saw two fish people jumping from behind the corner. She couldn’t see them exactly, but they were definitely a bit fish-like, even if they walked on two legs. Pale, with long, bald heads, gills, and whiskers, they moved pretty fast. Before Scootaloo could blink, they grabbed Hotshot and ripped him in half.

“Holy shit, duuuuude…” Scootaloo muttered, watching the fish people devouring the flesh of the former junkie. “I need to tell Twist that those pills make siiiiiiiiick visions…”

It was Thursday, which meant a meeting at the local diner. It didn’t matter that they all finished high school and were now in college, or rather two different colleges and, in case of Applejack, working on a farm. A meeting was a tradition and so was bad food.

“What is this supposed to be?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking at her food and poking it with a fork. “Should I kill it before eating or what?”

“Is it alive?” Fluttershy looked at Rainbow Dash’s plate, covering her mouth with her hand. “We need to help that poor creature...”

“Meh, it’s dead...” Rainbow Dash muttered, cutting a piece of her food and trying to chew it. “It’th been dead before we were born...” she added, spraying the crumbs around.

“Mine just ran away...” Pinkie Pie said, looking at her empty plate. “What’s going on with those?”

“Well, Ah’m more worried about Twilight...” Applejack took a bite of her apple. “Has anybody seen her?”

“I’ve seen Sci-Twi in the morning.” Pinkie Pie raised her head. “I wanted to say hello, but she ran past me and locked herself in the toilet. So I followed her there and said hello, but she didn’t hear me because she was vomiting...”

“Thank you, Pinkie Pie...” Rainbow Dash muttered, pushing her plate away. “I’m not gonna eat it...”

“You’re welcome,” Pinkie Pie replied and grabbed Rainbow Dash’s plate. “Dibs on this!”

Rainbow Dash shook her head. Applejack sighed; even Fluttershy raised her hand to her forehead, only to stop halfway through.

Suddenly, they saw Twilight entering the diner. She was walking slowly and mechanically, paying no attention to her surroundings. Her eyes were fixed at one point, about a thousand yards away from her and her face was an expressionless mask. She sat at the table with her friends and for a while she was just sitting there in silence.

“Umm... Are ya okay, sugarcube?” Applejack asked. “Ya look like mah sister after she ate insecticides...”

“Why did she eat them?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“A bad violation of workplace safety rules,” Applejack replied. “Mah parents weren’t very good with that and look what happened to them.” She sighed. “Apple Bloom only got high. Tough girl. A car didn’t kill her and nothing ever will.”

Pinkie Pie immediately took her notebook and wrote something in it. “What was the name of that insecticide? I need my stuff to be as good as Bon Bon’s.”

Rarity chuckled. “You wish, darling.”

“Girls...” Twilight said in a monotone. “Don’t you think that Sunset Shimmer behaves a bit weird recently?”

“Umm...” Rainbow Dash muttered, blushing. “Yes, you can say she does.”

Pinkie Pie smirked. “She’s just testing the limits of this world. At least that’s what she told me when I caught her masturbating with my bra.”

“W– what?” Twilight lowered her glasses a bit, breathing heavily.

“I’d say she’s a bit jaded.” Pinkie shrugged. “But it’s just a phase. Like my sister Marble. She sits in the closet with a laptop, and only goes out at night to eat something and go to the toilet.”

“That ain’t a phase, sugarcube,” Applejack muttered. “She sits there for five years. Are ya gonna do somethin’ about it?”

“We already did,” Pinkie replied. “Maud bought a bigger closet, but it took a year for her to get used to it.”

“What?” Twilight muttered. “That’s just… I mean, my friends in the Crystal Prep were weird, but…”

“And I still have that bra. In fact, I’m wearing it right now.”

Twilight cleared her throat. “Like, Sunset steals your underwear and you do nothing about it?”

Fluttershy blushed. “Umm… She didn’t steal my panties. I just gave her a few so she wouldn’t come to me at night and scare the animals.”

Twilight rested her hands on the table and slapped her forehead. “That’s…”

“– and I didn’t wash this bra since then!” Pinkie exclaimed.

“That’s nothing.” Rainbow Dash chuckled. “She came to me in the showers and I–” She turned towards Twilight only to see an empty seat. “Wait, where did she go?”

“I guess she’s a bit jaded,” Pinkie Pie replied.

Sweetie Belle stood on the pavement and looked at the nearby buildings unsurely. The sun nearly hid behind the horizon and it was getting colder. She wrapped herself tighter in a black coat and looked at Diamond Tiara’s car standing on the opposite side of the street. She was following it since they left school, chasing it on her yellow scooter. Finally, it stopped by a tall building made of red brick and it seemed that Diamond and Silver wanted to spend a night there.

Suddenly, Sweetie saw Diamond and Silver leaving the building. She lowered her hat to cover her face and clenched her hand on the handle of the gun in her pocket. She was about to take it out and shoot them, when someone bumped into her.

“What the–” She turned to see Twilight standing in front of her. Her hair was a mess and her glasses were slightly askew. “What are you doing here?”

Twilight staggered slightly, trying to focus her gaze on Sweetie, who winced, smelling alcohol. “I’m drunk, I’m pissed because Sunset Shimmer steals my underwear, and my back fucking hurts.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Sweetie Belle asked. She noticed that Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon weren’t heading to their car, but rather to the nearby store. Sweetie also noticed that neither of them had a jacket.

“Fuck me if I know,” Twilight muttered. “Do you think that…” She hiccuped. “... getting more drunk will help?”

“Sure.” Sweetie replied. Twilight didn’t even listen to her, slowly staggering away.

Sweetie sighed. Diamond and Silver disappeared in the store, but Sweetie’s mind already came up with a solution. “If they don’t have jackets, they’re not gonna drive away,” she whispered to herself. “I’m so brilliant.”

With these words in mind, Sweetie crossed the street and entered the building. Looking back, she went upstairs, only to notice an open door on the second floor. A peek inside of the flat revealed Diamond Tiara’s yellow jacket lying on the floor.

The flat was small and mostly, unfurnished, except of a large bed standing in the middle of the biggest room. There was also a flat TV hanging from the wall, but Sweetie Belle was more interested in the objects scattered around the bed. Whips, whipped cream, dildos, ropes, chains, bottles of lube, duct tape, a spreader bar, leather masks, clown’s nose, vibrators, cucumbers, and rubber ducks littered the floor.

“Blasphemy,” she muttered, grabbing a rubber duck. It made a squeaky noise when she touched it. She threw it away and looked at the TV. There were a few DVDs lying next to it. Sweetie took a look at the titles. Bitches in Leather II, Hondo Flanks and Twenty Horny Pussies, Girl Scouts and Donkey Dongs, Naughty Nuns VII: The Renunnification, and The True Story of Snow White and Seven Dwarves were the tamest of the titles.

“Heresy.” Sweetie Belle looked at the covers. “Who watches porn on DVD nowadays?”

Suddenly, she heard someone walking up the stairs. For a moment, she forgot about a gun in her pocket. Instead, she simply opened the nearest door and hid inside.

Unlike the living room, the bathroom was clean. The only thing Sweetie Belle noticed there was a half-empty box of tampons and unfinished sudoku lying next to the toilet. She sighed with relief. Whoever was walking up the stairs, didn’t stop at this floor.

Sweetie caught a look of herself in the mirror. Her makeup was running slightly – it was hot in the flat and she was still in her coat, so she got a bit sweaty. She took off her coat and put in on the laundry basket, remembering to get her gun. The problem was, she now couldn’t hide it anywhere.

Sweetie smirked at her reflection and aimed the gun at the mirror. “You talking to me?” she asked. “You talking to me?” She spun the gun. “Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker. Go ahead. Make my day, punk. Say hello to my little friend.” She turned the safety off. “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides–” She paused, hearing some noises from the outside.

“Okay, Spoony, now I’ll give you a ride of your life!” Diamond Tiara’s voice nearly pierced the walls. The door of the flat slammed shut. “After I’m done, I’ll make you eat that cucumber, whore.”

Sweetie heard Silver Spoon’s whimper, interrupted by the sound of the whip. “It’ll be a pleasure to devour a cucumber which was in the mistress’ ass…”

Another whipping sound. “Language! You’re not worthy licking my cunt, not to mention the cucumbers. But there’s a way to prove your worth. Lick my shoes, cocksock.”

Sweetie aimed the gun at the door, ready to burst into the room and fire, however, Silver Spoon’s moans stopped her. “I’ll let them finish,” she muttered to herself.

While Sweetie didn’t believe in ghosts, an absurd thought occurred to her. If she killed Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon while they weren’t satisfied, they’d probably haunt her at night, denied an orgasm forever. A rational part of her brain was trying to persuade her that killing them and running away were the best thing to do, but Sweetie didn’t listen. Especially since she learned that Twist’s pills were causing nasty flashbacks to her. Even while following Diamond Tiara, Sweetie had to keep fighting with her mind, harassed by visions of dragons, fish people, and fairies.

Now, fairies were back. They crawled out of her coat and the laundry basket. Sweetie rubbed her temples and scratched her hair with the barrel of the gun. They seemed to be attracted by Diamond’s and Silver’s moans.

There was also another problem. Suddenly, Sweetie felt an unexpected wetness in her panties and shuddered. The sounds were just too much to handle. She wanted to get out and look at them, but stopped herself at the last moment. Instead, Sweetie pulled down her skirt and panties, sitting on the toilet.

“And now, you’ll get it out with your teeth…” Diamond’s voice rung in Sweetie’s ears as she touched her clit. She rubbed it, clenching her teeth to suppress her own moans. Fairies spun around her head and she saw a pink dragon getting out of the shower and twirling his moustache. Sweetie slid her fingers in her pussy and massaged her clit with her thumb, feeling juices dripping out of her and falling into the toilet. Panting, she spread her legs wider. Fingers felt good, but she needed something bigger…

Biting her palm, she grabbed the gun and shoved the barrel in her pussy. The metal felt cold against her flesh, almost driving her over the edge. She thrust with it, grinding her hips against the handle. Her own voice was drowning in the noise Diamond and Silver were making, and most of her vision was obscured by wicked colours dancing around her. She couldn’t even name them.

She thrust one more time and moaned, her nerves exploding in pleasure. The electric wave of her orgasm reached her brain and Sweetie bent forward in a mind-shattering haze, falling off the toilet and dropping on her knees. Still basking in the afterglow, she took a deep breath and suddenly, everything disappeared in a mix of colours.

Silver Spoon blinked and raised her head from the soft pillow of Diamond Tiara’s butt. “What was that?”

“Who let you stop, filthy little shit?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“Niglets,” Silver Spoon muttered the safeword. “Seriously, something just went boom in the bathroom. Things shouldn’t do that, expect when you take a big dump.”

“No way,” Diamond Tiara replied. “Toilet cistern sometimes does that noise, but if you hit it hard enough, it stops.”

“No, that was something different.” Silver sat on the bed and put her glasses back on, only to realise that they were covered in something sticky. “Not that kind of boom.”

“Okay.” Diamond Tiara stood up and adjusted her leather outfit. “I’ll go and see what was that, but if it was the cistern, I’m gonna rape you in the ass with the chainsaw dildo.”

Silver Spoon chuckled. “My ass is waiting, then.”

Diamond Tiara got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. Silver watched her, smirking at the chainsaw dildo standing in the corner.

Suddenly, she heard a sound of someone dropping at their knees, following by choking and retching. She shrugged and slowly stood up, walking to the bathroom. She grabbed one of the dildos from the floor and took it with her. While there was probably nothing to worry about, Diamond apparently had a small disagreement with her food. There had to be some cause.

“Oh.” Silver Spoon said when she opened the bathroom door. The first thing she noticed was Diamond Tiara kneeling on the floor in front of a large puddle of greenish vomit. While Silver was looking at her, she shook and threw up a bit more.

Silver’s eyes moved to the toilet, where she saw a pair of white legs hidden in stripped socks. “Wicked Witch of the East!” she exclaimed.

“That’s not a witch…” Diamond Tiara whispered, trying to catch a breath.

“No, that’s how she must’ve looked like when the house fell on her,” Silver Spoon replied, walking towards the body while carefully avoiding Diamond’s vomit. “Look, she has guts everywhere and there are many things here that are normally inside.”

“She shot herself…” Diamond Tiara gestured towards the body. “There’s a gun in her…” She took a deep breath and threw up some bile.

“Strange.” Silver Spoon looked at the gun. “If someone wants to commit suicide, they put the gun in… the other lips. And usually they do that in their own bathroom, not someone else’s.”

“This… doesn’t bother you?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“Kinda.” Silver Spoon poked the body with the dildo, causing some organ to fall off and splash on the floor. “For starters, this is Sweetie Belle. After the bullet eviscerated her, it broke her jaw, but most of the hair is intact. Also, she was sitting in our bathroom with a gun. Which, my dear Tiara, brings another question: why?”

“To kill herself and ruin our night?” Diamond Tiara asked. She raised slowly from the floor, rested herself against the sink and turned the tap to drink some water.

“Highly unlikely,” Silver Spoon replied. “What else happened, Di? Examine your conscience.”

“Apple Bloom,” Diamond Tiara muttered. “But still, I don’t get why’d she–”

Silver Spoon sighed and turned to Sweetie Belle. “Think, Diamond, think! She’s wiser than you, and her brain is all over the wall.”

Diamond Tiara rested her hands on the sink and threw up the water into it. “You didn’t have to remind me. Also, is it about those drugs?”

“Precisely.” Silver Spoon smiled triumphantly. “They were working for someone who didn’t like us stealing them. And now this person wants us dead. Think about it: if it wasn’t for her getting intimate with her gun, this…” She dipped her finger in the greyish red substance covering the wall and licked them. “This would be us. Imagine that suddenly your skull explodes and your eye gets stuck to the ceiling." She clicked her tongue and looked at her fingers. "Damn, that’s salty.”

“I’d rather not imagine that,” Diamond Tiara muttered. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Hide the toys and call the police,” Silver Spoon replied. “She hid here with a gun and we didn’t shoot her.”

Diamond Tiara turned away from the sink to look at Silver Spoon. “Are you crazy? Everyone knows that police kill people!”

Silver Spoon sighed and shook her head. “Mostly those who deserve it. They won’t shoot us because Sweetie Belle shot herself in the cunt in our bathroom.”

“Yeah, right.” Diamond Tiara muttered. “They’re already after my family’s guns. What if they put me in prison? I wouldn’t survive that!”

“You already did,” Silver Spoon said, examining some organ lying on the floor. “Remember that party– Wait, you don’t remember that.”

“I don’t,” Diamond Tiara replied. “But I saw photos in the tabloids.”

“Yeah.” Silver Spoon nodded, speaking slowly and clearly so Diamond Tiara would understand her. “That’s why we need to call the police. So this doesn’t happen again. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Yes. We need to hide the body.” Diamond Tiara took a deep breath. “If we call the police, media will be on my ass again, and you can imagine that the only thing that sells better than sex is a lot of guts, and since some smartass will find the toys and movies, and examine every last DNA stain from the mattress, we’ll have both sex and guts, which would be a bad thing, since I’m kinda a celebrity, a tycoon’s daughter and a promising tennis player, and the tabloids would have a field day with such a thing, not to mention that daddy will hate what I did and he’ll disown me this time for sure, especially when he hears about the drugs and he’ll surely hear because then it’d be sex, drugs, guts, and rock and roll, and that’s what all those pesky paparazzi like the most. That’s why we will hide the body and send a fish to Twist.”

“Why?”

“I just summed it up for you in one sentence,” Diamond Tiara replied.

“No, I was asking why we should send a fish to Twist?” Silver Spoon asked.

“How do you think, who makes those drugs?” Diamond Tiara smirked. “Everybody at school calls them ‘Twist’s blue pills’.”

“Okay, but why the fish?”

“My grandpa did it once when the Apples sent a guy to kill him,” Diamond Tiara said. “We need to show her that Sweetie Belle sleeps with the fishes.”

“Yeah, because that surely won’t get us killed,” Silver Spoon muttered and looked at the body. “And what we’ll do with all that? My freezer is not that big.”

“You know that pier in the abandoned part of the port?” Diamond Tiara asked. “The one where there’s that old jetty with a sign saying ‘Don’t throw the rubbish into the sea’? No one ever goes there.”

“Yeah, I think I remember.” Silver Spoon nodded. “Our first sex tape, right?”

Diamond Tiara blushed. “Yes. We can throw her there.”

Silver Spoon smirked. “Get me some plastic bags. If we do that right, the ocean currents will carry her to Senegal.”

“Okay,” Diamond Tiara said. “I’ll prepare the car. Scrape her off the walls, will you?”

“Why me?”

Diamond Tiara carefully walked around the greenish puddle on the floor. “You don’t throw up.”

Twilight stood in front of the convenience store and rested herself against the wall. “Fuck.” She looked at the other girl standing next to her in a long, black trenchcoat and a baseball cap. “Can you believe they didn’t want to sell me vodka? Like, I thought I was good at pretending to be sober.”

Vinyl inhaled some smoke from her cigarette and shrugged.

“W-what’s even the point?” Twilight asked, staggering and resting herself on Vinyl. “Like, when I’m drunk, I want to get more drunk… Why they d-didn’t sell me the fucking vodka?”

Vinyl rolled her eyes and gave Twilight a cigarette. She then produced a golden lighter from her pocket to light it up.

“T-thanks,” Twilight slurred. “W-what are you even doing here, my saviour angel?”

Vinyl looked back at the store and then at the buildings on the other side of the street.

“Ah, I get it.” Twilight smirked in this particular way only drunk people smirk when they think they’re funny. “You’re a fucking architecture student, don’t you?”

Vinyl shook her head and blew out the smoke. Twilight nodded and tried to do the same, only to choke and bend forward in a fit of coughing.

Vinyl watched Twilight curiously, watching to step away in just the right time. She’d lost one pair of shoes when Octavia’s fit of laughing after witnessing her home country’s match against Iceland ended with a violent expulsion of stomach contents and she didn’t want this to happen again.

“Okay,” Twilight said when she regained the ability to breathe. “I’m not drunk enough, I have no vodka and your cigarettes are shit. Where can I get something to make me forget about back pains and Sunset Shimmer being a fucking stalker?”

Vinyl nodded and pointed to her left. Twilight walked to her and squinted, trying to see what Vinyl was showing her.

“The ice cream parlour?” she asked.

Vinyl shook her head.

“The sperm bank?”

Vinyl chuckled, but then shook her head again.

“That abandoned shop with metal door?”

Vinyl nodded.

Twilight smiled, adjusting her glasses. “Cool, mate. See ya around.” She walked away, limping slightly and rubbing her back.

It didn’t take long before she noticed two pairs of big, pale eyes observing her from some dark nooks. She turned quickly, but the nooks turned out to be empty.

“I must be seeing fucking things,” she muttered and continued to walk. However, soon it became obvious to her that the eyes were back there, watching her every step. The itch in the back of her neck was pretty hard to ignore, even despite the fact that her brain was currently bathing in ethanol.

“A-ha!” Twilight exclaimed turning back. Two bald, greyish guys smiled sheepishly and looked at each other. They were shorter than Twilight and mostly naked, except of loincloths that seemed like they were covered in scales. Despite the darkness and her drunkenness, Twilight also noticed that they had gills.

“Fish people, huh?” Twilight asked. “You want to devour me, you sick, blasted cocksuckers?”

The fish people looked at each other again, but before they could reply, Twilight kicked the shorter of them right in the wedding tackle. He opened his mouth, but didn’t scream, mostly due to the lack of vocal chords. Twilight wasn’t strong, but she still insisted on wearing massive boots that were in fashion during her last year in Canterlot High. In the town, they were slowly becoming that-one-fashion-fad-we-thought-was-cool-and-now-we-laugh-at-it, but Twilight was never the one to follow fashion. Anyway, her kick was enough to send the fish person flying on the street, where he died under the wheels of a speeding black Ford Mustang.

“Now it’s your turn, dickhead,” Twilight muttered to the other fish person. However, he didn’t want to check what else this weird purple menace had in store and quickly ran away.

“Great.” Twilight smirked at herself and walked down the street, to the old store with massive metal door. She looked around, at the decrepit brick and boarded up windows. Then she knocked.

A small window in the door opened. “Who are you?”

“Sci-Twi!” Twilight showed all her teeth.

“Are you twenty-one?”

“Yes, of course!” Twilight replied.

There was a long moment of silence. Then, the lock clicked and the door opened.

“Slutty schoolgirl, eh? Take one of those blue pills,” the tall and muscular bouncer said. “Then proceed downstairs. What’s your safeword?”

“Gamma-hydroxybutyrate,” Twilight replied.

“Any particular preferences?”

“What do you mean?” Twilight adjusted her glasses.

“Boys, girls, anything in-between, trained monkeys, porcu–”

Twilight’s eyes lit up. “Everything!”

Silver Spoon sighed, looking at Diamond Tiara and then at the road behind them. “I’ve made a mistake,” she muttered.

“Not the first and not the last.” Diamond Tiara turned sharply, almost hitting an empty fruit stand.

“No, I mean, I shouldn’t have licked my fingers after–” Silver Spoon looked at her hand.

“Yes, that was sick.”

Silver Spoon blinked a few times, then took off her glasses. “I mean, she was a friggin’ junkie, right? I tasted her blood and now I’m tripping balls.”

“How so?” Diamond Tiara turned to her friend and stared at her, until the sudden wail of a bending fender made her look back at the road.

“I just saw that we ran a fish person over.” Silver Spoon muttered. “And that Twilight Sparkle kicked this dude under our car.”

“Strange. I haven’t noticed anything.” Diamond Tiara shrugged and pushed the accelerator to the floor.

“Did you ever notice anything you ran over?” Silver Spoon asked.

“Yes. Apple Bloom.” Diamond Tiara tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. “Also, I don’t get high on brain, therefore I’m a better driver, so shut up, Spoony.”

“Logical as always…” Silver Spoon shook her head, clutching to her seat.

Author's Note

Important notice: contrary to what you may think, "rubber duck" is not a typo. Make of that what you will.

Another important notice: don't try anything from this chapter at home. Not only you'll die, but also the paramedics will talk about you for centuries.

Abracadabra

Sunset Shimmer pulled the zipper of her jacket. The night was getting cold, but she still had some things to do. She took a look at the plan of the town with some crosses marked on various streets and stared at the nearby building to read the name of the street.

Something weird was going on in the town. On the way to this particular neighbourhood, Sunset saw the guts of a fish person, strewn across the street. The rain was slowly washing the blood into the gutter. Sunset dismissed it; she knew the dogs would find it and get rid of it.

Then she found Twilight Sparkle. Poor girl was crawling down the pavement and didn’t recognise Sunset at all; when Sunset wanted to help her up, she started talking about strawberry fields, sky, diamonds, and space whales. Sunset just wanted to walk away, when Sci-Twi finally recognised her. It was even worse. Only Sunset’s boots prevented her from Twilight biting her ankle.

Now, however, Sunset was standing in front of a large, blue house. One of the windows was boarded and the roof lacked some tiles. The grass in the garden grew tall, almost covering an old Volkswagen Beetle completely – apparently the owner didn’t park it in the garage. There were a few rusty holes in the car’s body. However, it had new tyres and apparently was able to drive.

Sunset opened the gate and walked into the garden. As she walked past the car, she noticed a large sticker on its side, saying “Chryssie”. She shrugged and walked to the house’s door. Looking around, she produced a credit card and put it in the slit between the lock and the frame. It didn’t budge. Sunset tried to manipulate it once again, with the same result. Eventually, she sighed and put her hand on the handle. To her surprise, the door opened immediately.

The inside of the house was littered by cobwebs, rags, and empty pizza boxes. There were, however, some cleaner areas and paths, indicating where the owner of the house usually walked. Sunset immediately thought of cutting one’s way through the jungle.

She chose the narrow path leading from the door to a large clearing with a couch and a TV in the middle, and then turned towards a highway leading to the bathroom.

When she finally reached her destination, Sunset thought that at least this place was clean. More, it was pristine. The tiles, the toilet, and the bathtub – everything seemed brand new. But that wasn’t the most important; Sunset’s eyes quickly spotted a washing machine standing in the corner.

Quickly, she took off her jacket and threw it on the floor. Soon, the boots, skirt, and blouse followed it and Sunset stood in the middle of the bathroom wearing only her bra and panties. She walked to the washing machine and took a look into the laundry basket standing next to it.

“Is she going commando, or what?” Sunset muttered. “Impossible. Not with the amount of times she trips and falls. Someone would notice...”

The search revealed only a few pairs of socks, a bra, two skirts, and a blue hoodie. With no panties to be found, Sunset sniffed the bra and threw the rest of the clothes into the washing machine. She then took off her own underwear and sat on the top of the machine, waving her leg in the air.

“Perfect,” she muttered to herself, feeling the cold metal vibrate under her pussy. “This is gonna be good…”

The door of the bathroom opened. Sunset opened her eyes and saw the owner of the house, already in her starry pajamas, holding a small doll in her hands.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie usually uses the dryer,” Trixie said. “It’s warmer.”

“Ah.” Sunset muttered. Whether it was an agreement or the small twitches inside of her, even she didn’t know. “What are you doing here?”

“Trixie lives here, you know.”

“Yes, but it usually takes longer before… Aaah…” Sunset blushed. “Before someone hears the washing machine.”

“Trixie can imagine.” Trixie shrugged. “I thought it was my granny. She’s a bit of a hoarder.”

“You live with your granny?” Sunset asked. “Damn, you have one of those cool washing machines I like.”

“To think about it, Trixie hasn’t seen her in a month or so,” Trixie replied. “I need to check under that pile of stuffed swordfish trophies. But until then… I think I’m gonna take a seat.” She walked to the dryer and hopped on it.

“Err…” Sunset raised her eyebrows. “I mean, why don’t you… ooh!”

Trixie smirked. “Ah, I get it. You feel uncomfortable because you’re naked and I’m not.” She took off the top of her pajamas, revealing her big, heavy breasts and a considerable belly below them. “Like what you see?” She pulled down the trousers, showing just how callipygous she actually was.

“Yeah,” Sunset muttered. “But I was wondering why you didn’t kick me out.”

“Ah, I just don’t get many guests.” Trixie turned on the dryer and sat more comfortably on it. “So I partake in hobbies of even the weirdest ones.”

Sunset chuckled, feeling the warmth spreading from her pussy and creeping towards her stomach. “Well, actually that’s not the weirdest thing that happened to me since I do that.”

“Restraining order?”

“Nearly,” Sunset replied. “Also, Rainbow Dash peed in my mouth.”

“Trixie’s not gonna do that.” Trixie spread her legs slightly. “She has a shy bladder. But I can–”

“No.” Sunset shuddered, hardly daring to think what Trixie had in mind. “We can just sit and talk.”

Trixie opened her mouth, only to exhale sharply, her legs trembling. “Excuse me,” she said. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is rather fast when it comes to coming. Those are just foreshocks, though.”

“I see,” Sunset replied. She clenched her muscles, trying to hold her own orgasm, but it only made her feel the pounding and vibrations more. “Do you… uh… have some other hobbies, apart from the dryer?”

“Voodoo.” Trixie grabbed a doll she brought with her. Sunset noticed that it was crudely-made depiction of Twilight Sparkle with a few pins stuck in her back.

“Does it work?” Sunset asked.

“Sometimes,” Trixie replied and blushed. “Trixie once got a Flash Sentry doll stuck in her pussy.”

“So that’s why this moron smelled of fish once.” Sunset smacked her hand against her forehead. “Why did you even make a doll of him?”

“He didn’t want to go out with Trixie.” Trixie replied. “And when he did, it turned out that Trixie overestimated the size and, umm… stiffness when making the doll.”

Sunset sighed. “Of course. Flash Sentry – mother nature’s punching bag.”

“I even have one of you.” Trixie smirked. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is gonna put it on the top of her washing machine so you can feel good vibrations when she does the washing up.”

“That’s… nice I guess…” Sunset muttered. At the same moment, Trixie inhaled sharply, moaning as some fluids escaped her pussy, pooling on the top of the dryer. “Wow…”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie came,” Trixie muttered, panting.

“I see.” Sunset chuckled. “Lightweight.”

“It’s the dryer,” Trixie replied. “Trixie actually checked and it takes two more minutes with the washing machine, on average.”

“Two more?” Sunset asked. “I feel like… Holy shit!” She moaned as the washing machine finally found its mark, sending waves of pleasure across her body. She jumped off of the machine, landing on her knees as her body shivered in an orgasm. Panting, Sunset rested herself on her hands, her eyes staring at the floor.

“Not even two for you.” Trixie chuckled. “You okay there?”

“Yes.” Sunset got up, resting against the washing machine. “Now, I should technically steal your panties and go home, but you have no panties and it’s night.”

“Trixie can drive you home,” Trixie replied. “And this bra will have to do. The vanishing panties trick left me with none.”

“Okay then.” Sunset picked her panties from the floor and put them on. “So, I guess I’ll go.”

“Not before I show you my dolls,” Trixie replied, bursting out of the bathroom without even putting her pajamas back on. Sunset shrugged and put her bra and skirt on, deciding to get the rest of the clothes on her way back.

Trixie guided her upstairs, to the room with a plate saying “Beatrix’s room” on the door. Smiling and almost jumping in excitement, she opened the door.

The first thing Sunset noticed was a Flash Sentry doll, taped to a dartboard hanging from the wall. It was surrounded by several darts, but apparently all of them missed their mark. Next to the dartboard, there was a poster with Jimi Hendrix. Sunset could understand why; just like him, Trixie played a normal guitar, despite being left-handed.

Speaking of Trixie’s guitar, the red Flying V was lying on her bed, along with some half-finished tab. Sunset looked at it and immediately felt a headrush – the tab contained much more letters than she felt comfortable with.

“How are you going to play that?” Sunset asked. “It’s impossible to be on first and fifteenth fret at the same time…”

“Tapping,” Trixie replied.

“To think about it, I’d tap that,” Sunset muttered, turning away from the tab and looking at the table where parts of various dolls were lying scattered, resembling a scene of a very violent crime. Several miniature Crystal Prep uniforms made Sunset think of Moondancer. It wasn’t a nice thought.

“It’s gonna be Sweetie Belle,” Trixie said, pointing at a lump of white fabric. “Old one kinda fell apart.”

“I’m more worried about Aria Blaze drowned in the fish tank,” Sunset replied. “Especially since I haven’t seen those three in a while.”

“Trixie doesn’t think this one ever worked.” Trixie shrugged. “Maybe voodoo doesn’t work on sirens…”

“Dunno.” Sunset walked to one of the shelves, watching the doll sitting on it. It looked like her, complete with a leather jacket and a pin in the crotch. “Okay, that’s just creepy. What did you do to me?”

Trixie smiled sheepishly. “This pin is only to strengthen the spell, but it’s white magic, I swear.” She backpedalled, seeing Sunset’s face. “Like, it’s to make your sex life better.”

“And you did that because you’re so nice to me?” Sunset asked.

“Umm…” Trixie dodged Sunset’s gaze. “Well, Trixie… Trixie thought that…”

“You’re naked, we’re in your room and you put a pin in my doll’s cunt to make me hornier,” Sunset replied. “We also rode washing machines together… Trixie Lulamoon, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Washing machine and a dryer,” Trixie muttered, raising her hand. “And it was you who came here by foot in the middle of the night to come on Trixie’s washing machine.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned something about driving me home,” Sunset said. “We’d better do that before this night gets any weirder.”

“Sure.” Trixie opened the door of her room. “But we’ll stay in touch, right?”

“Yes. Touch with a ten-foot pole.”

Trixie smirked. “Kinky.”

They walked out of Trixie’s house and sat in the car. Sunset fastened the seatbelt, making herself comfortable on the diminutive seat of the Volkswagen while Trixie was swearing, trying to turn the engine on.

“Trixie?” Sunset asked when the engine finally roared.

“Yes?” Trixie pulled the gear shift lever to herself and pushed it forward.

“Why ‘Chryssie’?”

Trixie smirked, driving on the street. “It’s named after the previous owner. She was the head of a school theatre in Crystal Prep, but was kicked out for impersonating Dean Cadance.”

“I didn’t know you could get kicked out for that,” Sunset said, watching Trixie speeding up on the empty road. While Trixie’s driving skills were similar to Diamond Tiara’s, an engine barely capable of achieving fifty HP didn’t give her nearly as many possibilities to wreak havoc.

“Unless you also use her credit card,” Trixie muttered, taking a sharp turn. The car roared and squealed, making Sunset grab the door in case the whole thing decided to fall apart.

“Don’t worry, it’s a German car,” Trixie said. “It’d survive a nuclear war.”

“Well, I could give you an example of a German thing that was supposed to last for a thousand years and fell apart after eighteen,” Sunset Shimmer muttered, looking at the pavement. “Hey, is it Twilight?”

Trixie pushed the brakes. “It seems so. Why is she crawling into a cardboard box?”

“I’m guessing she wants to visit her friend who lives there.” Sunset shrugged and looked at her phone. “Why is she doing that at 4 AM, I have no idea…”

“You all seem to have a problem with insomnia.” Trixie pushed the accelerator, nearly running over a kid on a bicycle and several fish people standing in the street despite the pavement being only a few yards away.

Sunset Shimmer looked at Trixie. “Umm… Are you driving me home naked?”

“Yes,” Trixie replied. “Are you having a problem with that?”

“I don’t, but the police… Actually, who cares.” Sunset shrugged and smirked at Trixie as the car rode towards the rising sun.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Twilight slid off the stairs in a rather unladylike manner, trying to grab the rainbow-coloured rays dancing in front of her face. They flew away and she landed on the floor, right in front of a small, leather-covered woman with a whip in her hand. Twilight looked at her, but at the same moment the woman changed into a dragon, causing her to recoil in shock.

“Blue pills, huh?” the dragoness laughed. “Don’t worry, girl, soon you’ll be better.” She helped Twilight up and guided her through the forest of large, green, fluorescent mushrooms. Twilight looked into the purple sky; the fact that she was in a basement just a minute ago somehow escaped her mind.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the dragoness asked. Twilight nodded, watching dicks flying around like dragonflies and noting just how scientifically impossible they were. Suddenly, a large shadow passed over them.

“Space whales are flying to their mating places,” the dragoness said. “Let’s hope none of the Seven Golden Towns of Chlamydia gets destroyed.”

“Yes, that’d be bad,” Twilight muttered, staring in the distance, at the large, white castle on the top of a hill. “Where are we going?”

“You tell me.” The dragoness chuckled. “Seems that the Eternally Horny Twins want to meet a schoolgirl like you. Or maybe you want to be Snow White with your seven dwarves? Their names are Cock, Humpy, Fappy, Creepy, Jizzy, and Clopey, by the way.”

“How about all of them?” Twilight asked. “With me, that’d make ten. So it’d be a tensome, right?” She smiled. “Ten is a very important number. We have ten fingers and ten toes, and that’s why we use decimal system. Also, each internal angle of a regular decagon happens to measure one-hundred forty-four degrees, which happens to be twelve squared. Twelve is also very important, but that’s not the point.”

“Your fetish is math, then?” the dragoness asked. Meanwhile, the twins accompanied by seven short guys with beards approached both of them, staring at Twilight unsurely.

“Not necessarily,” Twilight replied. “Ten is not only about math. We have dimes–”

“I’ll give her a dime if she shuts up,” one of the twins muttered.

“I’ll shut her up with my cock,” one of the dwarves said. It was probably Creepy.

“– we also have Ten Commandments, ten plagues, decathlon, ten in cards, ten Sephirot in the Kabbalistic Tree of Life, and oh holy shit, I just remembered that I left a dangerous grimoire open…”

“What?” the dwarf who may have been Humpy, but could as well be Jizzy asked.

“Nevermind.” Twilight smirked. “Let’s fuck.”

The earth spun around the meadow as the air filled with screams of lovers and wails of space whales welling in Wales. All mimsy were the borogroves, and the Bandersnatch called in the mushroomy forest. Its sounds however, drowned in the cries of one Twilight “Sci-Twi” Sparkle learning about the depravities she didn’t know existed. She bellowed at the firmament as the space whale wrapped his dick across her cheek.

The Earth suddenly stopped.

Everything moved slightly to the left.

The Earth resumed turning.

It was 4:06 AM, June 21st, 20XX. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon just went back to the car after throwing Sweetie Belle’s body into the ocean. Trixie and Sunset Shimmer got into Trixie’s Volkswagen and were about to drive across the town.

Twilight Sparkle woke up in some dirty alley, her face resting against wet concrete. Her clothes were wet and looked like someone put them on her in a hurry, but they weren’t damaged in any way. Her joints were stiff and she felt like she lay there for a thousand years.

“What the hell?” she muttered. Everything was blurry; after a moment of flapping her hands around, she found her glasses and put them on. Her vision sharpened, but it didn’t make her feel any better. For starters, she was sitting on the road, cold and tired.

“What happened to me?” she muttered. Her eyes landed on a small piece of paper in front of her. As quickly as it was possible in her state, she grabbed it and read the letter.

Hello, sweetheart,

as you can see, we didn’t steal your kidney. We didn’t put you there, either. You just wanted to go home by yourself and passed out here.
Looking forward to meeting you again,
Cloudchaser.

PS: You, girl, are a total sicko! Like, you’re the first person to force my sister to eat–

Twilight couldn’t read any further. Literally, since, as the details of the night came back to her, she threw up on the piece of paper in her hands, making it unreadable.

“Hey, you’re puking on my lawn!”

Twilight turned to the large pile of cardboard boxes. It occurred to her that they were arranged in an elaborate pattern that couldn’t have been produced just by accidentally throwing them away. There had to be some kind of creator. In this case, the creator was standing in front of her, wearing slippers, sleeping gown, and a fedora.

“Scootaloo,” Twilight muttered. “You have no lawn.”

“But I can have one, with enough guerilla gardening,” Scootaloo replied, looking at Twilight. “What happened to you? You seem to have cum on your skirt.”

“What? No…” Twilight smiled sheepishly. “That’s… yoghurt, I’m sure. And I most certainly didn’t dance around wearing only my underwear.”

“Of course not,” Scootaloo muttered. “That was Flash Sentry.”

“Who is Flash Sentry?”

“Wait, I thought you two…” Scootaloo thought for a moment. “No, wait, that was that other one. Some bloke from my school. I think he studies some underwater basket weaving now.”

“Maybe.” Twilight looked at herself. “I need to get home…”

“No worries,” Scootaloo said. “You can’t go home like this. Come to me, I’ll get you cleaned and give you a massage.”

“What kind of massage?” Twilight crawled into the cardboard box with Scootaloo. She gasped, seeing how spacious it was inside; Scootaloo probably had stolen cardboard boxes from all the town and connected them into a sophisticated maze full of long corridors leading to large rooms. In one of them, there was a mattress with several pillows lying on it.

“Thai massage,” Scootaloo replied. “Apple Bloom keeps talking about Thailand, so I did a bit of a research and now I’m the master. Lie down on the mattress.”

Twilight looked at the makeshift bed unsurely, but soon she realised how sore she was after sleeping on wet concrete. She walked to it and fell on her back while Scootaloo kicked off her slippers. She smirked, looking at her feet and looked at Twilight.

“You were supposed to lie on your belly,” she muttered. “But stay like that, it’ll be even better.”

“How so?” Twilight looked down, feeling something warm touching her panties. Scootaloo was sitting on the floor in front of the mattress, one of her feet placed between Twilight’s legs. “You’re not going to kick me, are you?”

“No, of course not.” Scootaloo chuckled. “It’s a challenge. If you can reach a happy end, we’ll be besties.”

“Have you tried that before?” Twilight asked, watching as Scootaloo’s foot moved forward, the heel rubbing against her panties. The touch of silk against her skin made Twilight shudder.

“Yes, with Rainbow Dash,” Scootaloo replied. “She won. And then kicked me out.”

Twilight moaned, when Scootaloo retreated her foot, caressing her clit with her big toe. “Why’d she do that?”

“I probably shouldn’t have broken into her house in the middle of the night,” Scootaloo muttered, rubbing her foot against Twilight’s panties at a steady pace.

Twilight sighed. “Is there anybody in this town who can live without violating other people’s privacy? Like, Sunset Shimmer–”

“Oh, please.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “I’ve been stalking people before it was cool.” She bent her toes, pulling Twilight’s panties a bit down and pressed her big toe against her labia.

Twilight hissed, biting her lip. Scootaloo had rather short toenails, but she felt them scratching against her pink flesh anyway. She quickly got used to that, though, enjoying the warmth of Scootaloo’s foot rubbing against her opening, slowly trying to go deeper. Twilight took off her panties and spread her legs, allowing Scootaloo to slid her foot about halfway inside of her.

“Okay, that’s… Ah! Kinda weird.” Twilight moaned as Scootaloo increased her pace. “I’m pretty sure… ooh… that’s not Thai massage…”

“It’s a little variation,” Scootaloo replied. “I came with it myself.”

“You mean ‘came up’?” Twilight asked, trying to fight the approaching orgasm just to correct Scootaloo’s grammar.

“Yeah, that was first. Then I came with it.” Scootaloo jammed her foot as deep into Twilight’s pussy as she could.

“Oh.” Twilight suddenly thought of the implications of that. It caused her to lose concentration just for a little moment – and that moment was enough for the climax to bring down the gates of her prim and proper mind. Her moan shook the walls of the cardboard house. She threw her arms open as the orgasm rocked her body.

“Wow!” Scootaloo exclaimed as her foot was pushed out of Twilight’s pussy with a wave of musky fluids. “Didn’t you come back from a sex party before?”

“I have… a lot of… reserves…” Twilight panted. Her head fell on the cushions and she snored in a most unladylike manners.

“I see,” Scootaloo deadpanned.

When Twilight woke up again, it was already way after midday. She was lying on Scootaloo’s mattress, with Scootaloo sleeping next to her, holding a cushion. Twilight shuddered, shooting out of the bed and nearly knocking the wall over.

“What did I do?” she muttered to herself. “Oh my God! I got drunk!”

Scootaloo opened one eye. “Go back to sleep honey…”

“I can’t! I got drunk and high!” Twilight exclaimed. “Do you know what that means? And then I went to a pub and had sex with random people!”

“Random?” Scootaloo groaned. “I’m random to you?”

“My mother will kill me!”

“Mine too, once she learns I live here.” Scootaloo covered her head with a pillow. “Not gonna happen.”

“It’s not even about her,” Twilight said, her voice trembling. “I became an alcoholic! And a junkie!”

“You got drunk once,” Scootaloo replied.

“Once is enough!” Twilight exclaimed. “My head already hurts and I’m gonna get hepatitis soon!”

“You’re just hungover.”

“No, I’m not!”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “You need help.”

“That’s right! I need help!” Twilight ran out of Scootaloo’s cardboard house.

Scootaloo turned on her bed and sighed. “Lesson learned,” she muttered to herself. “Never stick your dick in crazy.” Bending her joints in an improbable way, she lifted her foot to her face and sniffed it. “Or any other body part, for that matter.”

Although the local mental health and addiction treatment centre was located in an old, 19th Century mansion in the forests surrounding the town, it was far from being a scary, dark asylum from horror movies. The walls inside were painted in pale green to keep the inhabitants calm, and the lovely neighbourhood played a large role in helping them get better. Even the nearby Indian burying ground wasn’t much of a problem. Its inhabitants were pretty calm, which came as no surprise since they were all dead.

Twilight got off the bus and walked to the gates, carrying her suitcase. She’d changed her clothes to a plain, pale green dress which, while going well with the walls, had something inherently hospital-ish in it; like, if Twilight wrapped a piece of cloth around her head, she’d look like a leukemia patient.

“How can I help you?” The nurse at the reception desk asked when Twilight entered the building. Seeing Twilight’s unsure walk and gaze focused on the floor, she smiled professionally. “Are you okay?”

“If I were, I wouldn’t be here,” Twilight replied. “I drink, take blue pills, I had sex with twins, midgets, and a teen living in a cardboard box, and my friend used my washing machine as a masturbation device. I need some calm place for my mind to work this out.”

“Well…” The nurse raised her eyebrows. “That’s a lot and we’re not sure if–”

“I also have rich parents, a few patents, and better health insurance than the president.”

“You’re in,” the nurse replied. “Good for you. Sunny needs a new roommate. You two should get on well, I think.” She led Twilight upstairs. “Just so you know… if she talks about a clone who replaced her, notify us.”

“Capgras delusion?” Twilight asked.

The nurse looked at Twilight unsurely. “How did you know?”

“I know a lot of things,” Twilight muttered.

“We’ll double-check you for drugs you may be hiding,” the nurse said. “You want to be clean, I know, but it’s sometimes hard. Not everyone can…” She stood in front of one of the doors on the second floor and knocked. “Sunny?”

“Come in!” The voice was strangely familiar.

The nurse opened the door. “Sunny, this is your new roommate–” She looked at Twilight, remembering that she forgot to ask her name.

“Twilight Spar–” When the girl in a white sleeping gown turned to her, Twilight’s jaw dropped. Then, to the nurse’s surprise, she fainted, dropping on the floor. Even though the world around her darkened, the image of her new roommate was still in front of her eyes.

Although thinner, with sunken eyes, and hair lying flat against her head, the girl was still most definitely Sunset Shimmer.

Author's Note

In case someone wonders where's their God now, somewhere around that chapter I got a bizarre headcanon that Trixie is the God of this universe. She just kinda forgot about that.

Also, Capgras Delusion is a mental ilness that makes you think you were replaced by a doppelganger. So, as you may guess, Sunset has been doubled (also, I just noticed this chapter both starts and ends with "Sunset Shimmer").

Communication Breakdown

“Have you ever noticed that there are no such things as British restaurants?” Diamond Tiara looked both ways before turning left at the intersection, which wasn’t something she usually did. “We have Italian restaurants, Chinese restaurants, Indian restaurants…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Silver Spoon asked, her gaze focused on her phone.

“Just an observation.” Diamond Tiara looked at the pavement, in case any hapless pedestrian tried to cross the street. “I’m trying to stop thinking about Sweetie Belle…”

“Don’t worry, she won’t get up to kill us.” Silver smirked. “Although her friends may now hire somebody more competent to off us. Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“Precisely.” Diamond Tiara shuddered.

“Is it why we’re driving aimlessly around the town?”

“Yes.”

“We can just leave the town,” Silver Spoon said. “Find some quiet place to live until everything calms down.”

“Yeah, or until someone hides in our closet, cuts us with a hacksaw and writes ‘whores’ on the wall with our blood.” Diamond Tiara stopped to let a granny cross the road.

“They won’t do that,” Silver Spoon replied. “Too much evidence. We’ll most likely end up in a kebab. Which reminds me that there are not many Turkish restaurants, just kebab bars.”

“Thank you,” Diamond Tiara muttered weakly. “I’ll never eat a kebab again.”

“I also googled ‘British restaurants’.” Silver Spoon looked at her phone. “British Restaurants were communal kitchens created in 1940 during the Second World War to help people who had been bombed out of their homes, had run out of ration coupons or otherwise needed help.”

“Wait, Great Britain was bombed during the Second World War?” Diamond Tiara asked. “With what, airships?”

“Wrong war.” Silver Spoon rolled her eyes. “1940, not 1914.”

“Let’s see how wise you are without the phone.” Diamond Tiara sighed. “Also, don’t think that driving around is my only defence. Take a look into the glove compartment.”

Silver Spoon opened the glove compartment and sighed, seeing the gun inside. She’d expected that, given that Diamond Tiara’s mother was a proud member of the local gun club, but still she was rather disappointed. “Of all the guns you could choose, you took something for boys with small dicks, with seven rounds, and a recoil that’ll break your wrist?”

“I have strong wrists,” Diamond Tiara replied. “And I won’t have to fire twice.”

“Yeah, sure.” Silver Spoon grabbed her purse and produced a smaller gun from it. “I have something better.”

Diamond Tiara looked at the gun, turning the steering wheel. The car swerved to the pavement, narrowly missing a kid with a ball. “It’s a plastic toy.”

“Illegal plastic toy,” Silver Spoon replied. “Seventeen rounds. Can fire all of them in less than a second. Try to top that.”

“Will help you compensate for shitty aim.” Diamond Tiara groaned. “Assuming you don’t fire everything at the wall. Where did you even get it?”

“Dad told me I’ll read about it in fifty years, when the documents are no longer classified,” Silver Spoon replied. “Though now when I think about it, we shouldn’t have to get them. Like, we’re gonna totally get arrested once the police catches us. And I’m too pretty to go to prison.”

“They wouldn’t dare.” Diamond Tiara pushed the accelerator harder. They just left the town and drove down the narrow road among the fields, leading to the highway. “Also, running away from a killer unarmed? Crazy. And remember that if more people had guns, Moondancer wouldn’t happen.”

“I stand corrected,” Silver Spoon muttered. “I’m gonna get arrested. You’re gonna get shot.”

“Shut up,” Diamond Tiara replied. “We’re going on a road trip. Think we’re Bonnie and Clyde.”

“They were shot too.”

“How about Thelma and Louise?” Diamond Tiara asked.

“Awesome.” Silver Spoon rolled her eyes. “With your driving skills, I wouldn’t be surprised if we end at the bottom of some cliff.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Diamond Tiara muttered.

“What a clever answer.” Silver Spoon chuckled. “I would, but I’d distract the truck drivers.”

Diamond Tiara shot her a nasty glare and focused on driving, avoiding looking at her friend.

“Fish and chips,” Silver Spoon said after a few minutes.

“What?” Diamond Tiara groaned.

“Fish and chips,” Silver Spoon replied. “If there’s a British restaurant in the world, then there’s fish and chips.”

Diamond Tiara sighed and shook her head.

Rarity walked out of the class, carrying a bag full of fabric samples and her sewing utensils. She smiled; the teacher just told her that she could become an exchange student in the London College of Fashion. However, there was one problem, whose name was Sweetie Belle.

Rarity sat at the table in the coffee shop on the other side of the street and grabbed a tablet to check the British news site she was reading every day. She didn’t really like the articles, but all her friends in the college read it. Plus, it had amusing comments. For the next fifteen minutes, she was reading about the vocalist of Fledgeling Changeling and poor children in Brasil while sipping coffee so expensive that it could fund a small country.

Sweetie Belle. She was eighteen, yet she wouldn’t survive a day if Rarity moved out. Especially since their parents, busy driving across the country to make money hardly cared about their children. Rarity shuddered, thinking what would happen if Sweetie Belle was left alone. For starters, she’d probably burn the house down.

Another thought nearly made Rarity choke on her coffee. What if her parents wanted her to take Sweetie Belle with her? That’d be the worst. All her dreams about marrying a real prince would tumble and fall.

Rarity’s eyes moved away from the tablet. An itch in the back of her neck told her that someone was watching her. Maybe it was one of the waiters? Those insufferable cretins kept finding new ways of misspelling her name on the coffee cup.

“Hello,” Bon Bon said, approaching Rarity’s table. In her plain, yet practical clothes, she stood out in the cafe like a bishop in the brothel. “I knew I’d find you here.”

“What do you want?” Rarity asked. “I told you that meeting in public places–”

Bon Bon opened her bag and pulled a smoked fish from it. Some of the patrons looked at her, but most of them thought that it was just something so underground they’ve never heard of it before. “I found this in my mail, wrapped in that hideous piece of gay designer’s shit your sister called her coat.”

“Pepe isn’t gay, he’s French,” Rarity replied. “And that’s a fine salmon, I must admit.”

“It’s not salmon, it’s a mackerel.” Bon Bon rolled her eyes. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Do you know what that means? Wherever you sent your sister, she’s not coming back. Sweetie Belle is sleeping with the fishes.”

“Oh…” Tears appeared in Rarity’s eyes. She took a few deep breaths. “Don’t worry darling, we’ll think of something. Do you know Filthy Rich’s daughter?”

“Diamond Tiara?” Bon Bon asked. “Of course. She and her weird friend used to come to Twist for sleepovers.”

“I hope that won’t complicate anything.” Rarity took a sip of her coffee. “But it’d be nice if they had one more sleepover. A very long one.”

“Yes.” Bon Bon nodded. “With some additional attractions?”

“Of course,” Rarity replied. “Long, eventful, and they can never be found.”

“Will do.” Bon Bon stood up. “I’ll hire a party planner. We’ll be in touch.”

When Bon Bon walked out of the cafe, Rarity grabbed her phone and carefully chose a number. After a few signals, she heard a familiar voice, asking her what she wanted.

“British Airways?” she said. “I’d like to book a ticket…”

They eventually reached the highway and drove west as fast as they could, overtaking everyone on the way. Silver Spoon looked back from time to time, checking if no one was following them. Unfortunately, everyone else was going in the same direction, so the murderer could easily hide between the cars. Silver tried to look for something distinctive, but then thought that a good assassin wouldn’t use a flashy car everybody would remember. Thus, she started to suspect all the housewives in small, emission-free cars.

The sun moved beneath the horizon. Diamond Tiara looked at the dashboard and saw that they were running out of fuel. Luckily, there was a small, nearly abandoned station nearby, with a couple of petrol pumps and a shop. Diamond Tiara stopped by the pump and got out of the car.

“I need to take a dump,” she said. “Would you kindly tank the car up for me?”

“If you say so.” Silver Spoon rolled her eyes and opened the door. Quickly, it turned out that Diamond Tiara parked the car on the other side of the fuel pump than the fuel intake of her car was. Cursing under her breath, Silver Spoon sat on the driver’s seat, reversed, and parked on the other side of the pump. She was about to leave the car, when she heard a terrible screech.

“What the–” She looked to the left to see a small, old car that had just rammed into a fender of Diamond Tiara’s Mustang. To her surprise, Silver Spoon recognised a Ford A; however, it wasn’t a hot rod, but rather an old, unmodified Ford A that should’ve ended up in a museum rather than be driven around.

“Fuck,” Silver Spoon muttered. “Who is driving this junk? My granny?” She got out of the car and walked to the Ford, trying to imagine that she was tougher and stronger than she really was. “Listen, cocksucker,” she said in the most unconvincingly threatening tone anyone ever mustered. “I had a really bad day and you just hit my friend’s car, so get out right now or I’ll–”

A tall, long-haired girl with purple skin and two ponytails got out of the car, grabbed Silver’s neck and pushed her on the hood of Diamond’s Mustang. “Or what?” she asked. “I wouldn’t hit it if you didn’t stand here, cunt.”

“Or… Or I’ll apologise, fuck off, crawl in a corner and die?” Silver Spoon whispered.

“I can help you with the last one, slut,” the girl replied. “You think you had a bad day? Try being deprived of what was your biggest strength…”

“Well, I still have it.” Still lying on the hood, Silver Spoon straightened her leg, kicking the strange girl in the knee. Her scream as it bent the wrong way made Silver Spoon smile.

At least until the punch landed on her jaw.

Diamond Tiara closed the door of the stall and took the gun from her waistband. Then she lowered her trousers and sat on the toilet. For a while, she was sitting there, doing nothing apart from staring at the thin, plywood wall separating two stalls. The reason for that was simple: a girl with long, curly hair sat there and didn’t want to leave, making the whole situation rather awkward; especially since rumbling in Diamond Tiara’s stomach was telling her that something she ate was disagreeing with her badly.

“Okay,” Diamond Tiara muttered. “Let me guess: you’re waiting for me to go away, so you can release the kraken in there?”

It took a while before the reply from the other stall came. “Mhm.”

“Tough luck, because that’s what I’m doing too,” Diamond Tiara said. There was no reply. “Okay then. I’ll go first, then you can do whatever you want.” With these words, she loosened her muscles. Whoever thought that Diamond Tiara was prim and proper in anything she was doing, would be rather surprised at the symphony of olfactory and auricular factors that was unleashed with this simple move.

At least it was fast; a minute later, Diamond Tiara, now feeling much lighter, flushed the toilet, gagging at the sight of her deed. Then she pulled up her panties and left the facility, wondering if the other girl was still alive; the building clearly lacked a proper ventilation.

Diamond Tiara walked to the car park, limping slightly. To her surprise, she saw Silver Spoon being pummeled by some strange girl. It took her a few seconds to realise that she’d seen her before. More exactly, during the Battle of the Bands.

“Watch out! It’s a siren!” she yelled, pulling her gun out. Said siren stopped beating Silver Spoon and stood unsurely with her right hand in the air.

That moment of hesitation was all Diamond Tiara needed. A shot tore the air, the bullet hitting the siren’s arm, throwing her back at her car. Silver Spoon opened the door of Diamond’s Mustang and grabbed her own gun. Screaming at an unusually high-pitched tone, she emptied the magazine in her opponent’s general direction.

The girl rested against her Ford A and slid on the ground, leaving bloody trails on the metal.

“What did you do?” Diamond Tiara whispered, rushing to Silver Spoon.

“Aria Blaze,” Silver Spoon muttered, still holding the gun. “Her name was Aria Blaze…”

“Was, indeed,” Diamond Tiara replied, kicking the body. “We’ve had enough trouble without the fucking dead fish turd…”

“Hey, that’s racist.” Aria Blaze opened one eye and looked at herself. “I’m a siren. Also, you can’t even imagine how many dicks you’re gonna suck in hell for that…”

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon looked at each other, wondering how someone who had just been torn with bullets from the crotch to clavicles, with at least some pieces of lead in their lungs, could talk.

Diamond Tiara was the first to regain her senses. She swiftly raised her gun and fired three bullets at Aria’s head, creating something that looked like a piece of modern art called “Brain, Pieces of Skull, and Smashed Eyeballs on an Old Ford”. It’d probably sell for millions at Sotheby’s.

Diamond Tiara, however, wasn’t interested in modern art. “We’d better go,” she muttered, dragging Silver Spoon to the car. With a screech of the tires, left the station, driving back to the town as fast as the Mustang could.

Meanwhile, a blue girl left the store carrying some tacos, a bottle of water, and a pack of tampons. She walked along the row of fuel pumps and stopped in front of the car.

“Aria, I know you’re on your period, but it’s not nice just bleeding everywhere…” She lifted the box of tampons and walked closer to the car. “Anyway, I brought you–”

The tacos fell to the ground.

Adagio Dazzle walked out of the store and threw her hair back before going to the car. She smiled, seeing Sonata standing next to it. Apparently her friend was done with the shopping, so they could hit the road again. Assuming the car would work; it was a piece of junk, but Adagio would never get rid of it. After all, it was her first car, bought straight from the factory somewhere in 1928.

“Hi, Sonata,” she said. “I just had the weirdest conversation in the toilet…” She looked at Sonata and saw her standing motionlessly, staring at something in front of her.

“Someone. Killed. Aria.” Sonata muttered in monotone.

Adagio looked at the body, which she only recognised because of clothes, and then back at Sonata. “Oh, crap,” she muttered, immediately recognising her expression.

Throughout history, the three sirens made quite a mark on the history of this strange world they happened to live in. Most of those events were pulled by either Adagio or Aria; Adagio was always smirking, thinking of hapless Charles I, whom she convinced that he’d win the battle of Naseby. Poor guy, completely lost his head for her. Aria, on the other hand, was responsible for stirring the crap around Salem in late 17th century, as well as an elaborate prank that ended up in some important guys being thrown out of the window. It later escalated out of control and became known as the Hussite Wars.

Sonata was different. She rarely ever initiated any prank. However, when she did, people tended to die like flies. She was also much more emotional; Adagio remembered well how some guy called Henry III of Navarre dumped Sonata for someone else. Sonata had an absolute blast during his wedding. It took Adagio two centuries before she decided to go back to Paris and even then she couldn’t help but shudder during the whole visit.

Then, there was also Constantinople. It was early 13th century, they were young and free, their powers slowly reaching their peak. Sonata, whose name was a bit different at the time, just had to fall in love in one of the Varangian guards. Of course, he dumped her, so she spent the first half of 1204 plotting revenge, and on one fateful day, somehow created a strong gust of north wind that helped Venetian ships reach the town.

Three days later, when Adagio crawled from under the scorched ruins, she felt old for the first time in her long life, despite all the power she’d absorbed then.

Now, staring at Aria’s lifeless body, unable to get back to life without her pendant, Adagio, for the first time in her life felt mortal. She knew that if she didn’t do anything, she’d live only for a few more minutes.

“Sonata, eat a taco,” she said quickly.

“Why?” Sonata asked, her voice as monotone as before.

“Because when you’re hungry, things tend to end in a lot of guts on the floor and I’d rather avoid that,” Adagio replied.

“I have no tacos.”

“There are some on the ground,” Adagio said, desperately trying to come up with a plan. Nothing came to her head, so she started to pray. Not to any of the most popular gods, but rather to Quetzalcoatl, whose worshippers they met on their first trip across the ocean. Aria always considered eating human hearts pretty metal.

“They’re covered in Aria’s blood.”

“Good. That way, she’ll always be in your heart.” Adagio could feel her own heart pounding rapidly against her chest. She tried to steady her breath. “W– what do you want to do with that? With Aria?”

“That’s simple,” Sonata replied. “We’ll bury her in the sea, as she always wanted.”

Adagio sighed with relief. “Yes. We’ll do just that.” She briefly remembered that Aria indeed mentioned that to them, somewhere around that time when Adagio told about Sonata’s previous exploits to two drunk rockmen. Unfortunately, they forgot half of it, and the song eventually wasn’t called “Sympathy for the Siren”.

“Then I’ll murder the whole town,” Sonata said, staring in the distance. “I’ll make a large pile of skulls, sit on the top, and stick a femur of the guy who did that in my–”

“No, no, no.” Adagio shook her head. “Bad Sonata. We can’t murder whole towns. Not without our powers.”

“I need revenge!” Sonata exclaimed, hitting the fuel pump and nearly knocking it over. “I want to know who did that!”

“We’ll ask the guy who works here,” Adagio said. “There are cameras here, after all.”

When Microchips started to work at that small, crappy petrol station, he hoped he’d have a calm life. It mostly worked. Emphasis on the past tense.

Now, in only one evening, he had to clean the toilet after at least two people having an attack of diarrhea, and almost witnessed a bloody murder. What was worse, two friends of the victim walked back to his store. When he asked them if he could be any help, the blue one threw him across the room.

“Enough, Sonata,” Adagio said, walking to Microchip, who was lying by the counter, watching the way her hips were moving. It was somewhat hypnotising; he almost forgot why they were there.

“Okay, my boy.” Adagio leaned to Microchip. “Our friend just got murdered and we’d like to know who did that. Could you show me the recording from your cameras, please?”

“Umm…”

“Sonata, what will you do to him if he doesn’t show us the recording?” Adagio asked.

Sonata emerged from between the shelves, holding several bags of chips and some chocolate bars. “Punch him in the balls so hard everyone will wonder why his eyes are so hairy.”

Microchip immediately regained the ability to speak clearly. “The cameras are fake. My boss is rather stingy.”

“No cameras?” Sonata asked. “Dagi, can I rip his head off and pee inside, like in good old times?”

“No,” Adagio replied. “We were supposed to fit in after losing our crystals, remember?”

“We tried, and they shot Aria,” Sonata muttered, puffing her cheeks.

“That doesn’t mean that you can go around, ripping people’s heads off.” Adagio turned back to Microchip. “Okay, no cameras. But maybe you know those girls who shot Aria?”

Microchip hesitated. Of course he saw Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon around, but it wouldn’t be wise to just give them away. For example, they could come back to him and then ripping his head off and peeing inside would be the least thing he’d have to worry.

“Some girls,” he eventually said. “I don’t know them.”

“Some girls?” Adagio walked closer to Microchip and looked into his eyes. “And who do you think could that be?”

“Dunno…” Microchip replied. “Did you piss someone off recently?”

“Canterlot High!” Sonata exclaimed. “Can we go there and burn the school down? We can use the fuel from here!”

“What for?” Adagio asked. “It wasn’t recently. Almost none of those people are in the school anymore.” She pointed at Microchip. “Hell, he was in there, and now he’s working here. Not the best for him.”

“So… Who could that be?” Sonata muttered. “Maybe those girls from that other school we went to? One of them didn’t like my skirt.”

“That wasn’t a skirt, that was a glorified waistband,” Adagio said. “The minimal length of the skirt is set in the school rules. You’d know it if you learned to read. Remember that girl with a lot of hair that spoke like a smartass squirrel? Hers was the least you could get and yours was half as short.”

Sonata rolled her eyes. “No, it was only a bit shorter.”

“Yes, but she also wore tights. Meanwhile, everybody could see your country matters.” She turned to Microchip again. “Can you believe I put up with her for two thousand, five hundred-twenty four years?”

“They could still kill Aria,” Sonata said. “Remember how she got into a fight with that creepy one? She nearly shot her with a bow.”

Adagio nodded and scratched her chin. “Yeah, that could be it. You know who we’re talking about, right?” She looked at Microchip.

“Umm… Some girls from Crystal Prep?” Microchip asked. “Actually, to think about it… I may have dated one of them. And I’m pretty sure I added them all on facebook.”

“See?” Sonata smacked Adagio’s arm. “We’re the only ones no one wants to be friends with.”

“Not a surprise to me…” Adagio grabbed Microchip and lifted him off the ground. “Names.”

“S-sugarcoat,” Microchip replied. “Once she let me–” He looked into Adagio’s eyes and saw a slow and painful death. “Sour Sweet, Sunny Flare, Indigo Zap, and Lemon Zest.”

“Awesome.” Adagio released him. “Mind if we take some food and plastic bags?” she asked when he fell to the floor.

“N-no, of course not,” Microchip muttered, watching the two sirens walk away.

The mortal remains of Aria Blaze, now gently wrapped in a plastic bag, fell into the water. Sonata watched it disappear, resting against a board at the end of the pier. “Don’t throw rubbish and dead bodies, please,” she read.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” Adagio said, watching the bag drift away. “Are you okay, Sonata?”

“No,” Sonata replied, wiping her eyes. “That’s… not right.”

“Well,” Adagio said. “Not everything in the world is right. Remember Belfast?”

Sonata nodded. “Yeah, that wasn’t right. But shooting Aria was… less right. I think.”

“You do?” Adagio raised her eyebrows. Sonata only wept, so Adagio pulled her into a hug and for a while they just stood at the pier, staring at the sea.

“So… What’d Aria do if we died?” Sonata asked.

“Roll drunk on whisky, smoking one cigarette after another.” Adagio sighed.

“Wouldn’t she try to avenge us?”

“Yes.” Adagio chuckled. “After sobering up and realising that she’s all out of rent money.”

Sonata nodded and turned away from the ocean and the rising sun. “Well, I guess it’s time to find those girls…”

“It won’t be that hard.” Adagio pointed at the beach near the pier. A yellow girl with freckles and long, reddish hair was walking there, staring at her phone. “Humanity is getting dumber, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” Sonata asked.

“That in a hundred years you’ll be a genius,” Adagio said. “Hide under the pier and wait. I’ll lure her.”

Adagio got off the pier and walked across the beach, approaching the girl. She didn’t even notice her, focused at the small screen in front of her.

“Hello,” Adagio said. “Sour Sweet, right?”

“Nice to meet you,” Sour Sweet replied, turning her eyes away from the phone. Her eyes immediately narrowed. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I see you’re playing too,” Adagio replied, pointing at her phone. “I saw a Charizard under the pier, but then my phone died and I couldn’t catch it. If you want…”

Sour Sweet gave Adagio a gentle smile. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll have a Charizard and you won’t, loser.” She ran towards the pier. Adagio followed her slowly.

She didn’t have to hurry.

It was a Friday evening, and for the group of former Crystal Prep Academy students known as the Shadowbolts, it meant one thing: a party.

Well, on this particular Friday, the party wasn’t going all too well. Sure, they gathered together in Sugarcoat’s house, but there was something missing. Or rather, someone: Sour Sweet had disappeared and no one knew where she was.

In such a situation, their plans changed a bit, and the party got more heavy on drinking and philosophical conversation. Soon, however, the drinking part left no one but Sugarcoat and Lemon Zest to do the talking.

"Do you ever think about parties?" Lemon Zest asked, staring at the bottom of the empty bottle.

Sugarcoat sighed, downing her drink. "No."

Lemon didn’t seem to hear that. "Yeah, but I mean REALLY think about them. All these people getting together and bouncing around, sloshing stuff everywhere, acting like they don't have somewhere to be tomorrow. Or maybe... they don't."

Sugarcoat groaned and poured herself another vodka. "You're gonna have somewhere to be in about three seconds if you don't shut up. Spoiler: it's the hospital."

“Oooh!” Lemon Zest exclaimed. “I love hospitals! Though they should definitely work on their music.” She hiccuped. “Diagnose: Lebensgefahr alone just won’t do.”

“Where did you even learn about this guy?” Sugarcoat muttered. She was half-lying on the couch and Sunny Flare was using her butt as a pillow, but Sugarcoat had stopped caring a long time ago. “I thought only I’m listening to actual music here.”

“You mean, some guys who live in a hut made of shit and sticks, recorded one album, and then went to a nuthouse?” Lemon Zest asked.

“Yes,” Sugarcoat replied. As if to confirm her words, the first sounds of Einsturzende Neubaten’s Autobahn started to, for the lack of a better word, play. Sugarcoat grabbed her phone and looked at the screen. “It’s Sour Sweet,” she said. “Let’s see why she didn’t come.” She slid her finger across the screen.

“Sugarcoat?” Sour Sweet’s frantic voice came from the speaker. “Are you there?”

“Of course,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Where the hell are you?”

“Oh, I met some new people in the morning,” Sour Sweet replied. “They’re going to fucking kill me!”

“What?” Sugarcoat looked at her phone. “Listen, if you didn’t want to come because you secretly hate my ass, you could’ve just told me that.”

“No, why would I hate you?” Sour Sweet asked. “They put me in a trunk of their car and now I’m in some fucking dirty basement! I… I don’t have much time, so listen carefully. You know those girls, I’m sure.” Her voice was raspy and quick. “Their names are–”

“Hey! What are you doing?” someone in the background yelled. Sugarcoat heard some strange noises, followed by Sour Sweet’s scream.

“No!” Sour Sweet’s voice caused feedback in Sugarcoat’s phone, even though she was far away from her own mobile. “No, please! Anything but that! Nooo!” Her voice cut off abruptly as someone punched her. Sugarcoat’s throat went dry as she listened to the distant knocks and static, before somebody picked up Sour Sweet’s phone.

“Hasta la vista, pendejo,” a nasty voice said before the call ended. Sugarcoat immediately tried to call back.

“The number you’re trying to reach is currently unavailable,” a professional male voice informed. “Please, try again later.”

“Fuck,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Who could that be?”

“Eco kids,” Lemon Zest replied. “She said she really liked those gory slaughterhouse videos they put on facebook.”

“That’s not a reason to murder someone,” Sugarcoat said.

“Yeah…” Lemon Zest chuckled. “She then wrote to them that she masturbated to them for the whole night.”

“Well, damn.”

Sunny Flare raised her head from Sugarcoat’s butt and opened one eye. “Who was phone?” she asked groggily.

“Sour Sweet,” Lemon Zest replied. “Eco kids are murdering her.”

“Ah, okay.” Sunny lay back on Sugarcoat’s lap and snored.

Author's Note

Both Einsturzende Neubauten and Diagnose: Lebensgefahr are actual musicians. The former is industrial/experimental rock legend and the latter is a solo project of Nattramn from the Swedish band Silencer who recorded an album called Transformalin during his stay in a psychiatric hospital in Vaxjo, Sweden. If you are alone at night in a dark house, listen to it. You won't feel alone anymore.

Crucified

“Sunset Shimmer?” Twilight asked, looking at her roommate unsurely. When the nurse left them, they sat on their beds and just stared at each other for some time before Twilight decided to break the silence.

“How do you know my name?” Sunset asked. “I’m here for years. They call it Capgras syndrome.”

“What?” Twilight raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know this one.”

“One day, another Sunset Shimmer came and took my place,” Sunset replied in monotone. “Like, she totally screwed me over. One day I was going to school, and then I woke up here. Of course the doctors give me pills and keep telling me that it’s something I imagined, but I know what I saw…”

Twilight’s face brightened. “Actually… I happen to know another girl called Sunset Shimmer. She looks just like you, and we were in school together. She’s actually a pony from another dimension, and she came here through the portal in the pedestal of a horse monument in front of the school. I was in Crystal Prep at that time, but later there were Friendship Games, and I was investigating magic around Canterlot High, and I turned into a demon and started to tear the holes in time and space…”

Sunset raised her hand. “Umm… What?”

“... and then it turned out that there’s another me who is also a pony. Pinkie said that she’s a princess. And she doesn’t wear glasses.”

The door opened and the nurse walked in, carrying a tray with food and some pills. “How are you doing, girls?” she asked.

“Awesome,” Sunset Shimmer replied. “She’s so fucked up that I feel normal in comparison.”

“Language!” the nurse exclaimed. “People are not ‘normal’ and ‘insane’. There are many ways to live, remember.”

“Mine is so alternative that I have to sit here,” Sunset muttered. “And I’m totally not up to date with political correctness. Or anything really.”

Twilight turned to Sunset. “Well, for starters, 2016–”

“Don’t.” The nurse stood between Twilight and Sunset. “She’s rather fragile emotionally. She may have a breakdown when you reach November.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be wise,” Twilight muttered, looking at Sunset’s expression.

Sunset sighed. “Okay. Will you tell me more about…” She looked at the nurse. “... your school friend?”

Sunset Shimmer groaned, staring at the baseball field in front of her. She could never understand it; while there was a similar game in Equestria, she was never much into it and didn’t bother with learning the rules. The only reason she was there was because she liked the idea behind the Charity Amateur Baseball League (often shortened to CABLE): the income for the tickets went for whatever noble cause the organisers were currently supporting.

Unfortunately for her, the teams weren’t very well balanced. After just three innings, Hipster Hurricanes were about sixty runs behind the Stream Team, consisting mostly of the nurses from the local hospital’s urology department.

“Are we gonna have to sit through ten innings of this?” Sunset asked, watching as Hipster Hurricanes’ shortstop somehow managed to knock himself out while darting to grab the ball.

“Nine,” Rainbow Dash replied. “Don’t worry, they have a mercy rule. If someone is ten runs behind after five innings, the game is stopped and the losing team is executed.”

“Sounds cool.” Sunset smirked.

Rainbow Dash chuckled. “I may have lied about the execution part.”

“Too bad,” Applejack muttered. “Ah don’t get why we’re still here. We coulda stayed for the beer, but it tastes like piss.”

“Having tasted both, I can tell that this is worse.” Sunset took a sip of her beer.

Applejack’s eyes widened when she thought of the implications. Luckily, a ball from the Stream Team’s another home run flew past her, snapping her out of shock.

“Do you think we should help them?” Fluttershy asked.

“Nope,” Rainbow Dash replied. “They’re losing pretty well even without our help.”

“I mean… The fish people are trying to eat their coach,” Fluttershy muttered. “That’s not a part of the game, right?”

“Indeed,” Sunset replied, eyeing a group of intruders that had just entered the pitch. “We’d better examine that.” She walked to the fence separating the bleachers and the pitch, and jumped over it.

“Hero syndrome and underwear fetish,” Rainbow Dash muttered, following her. “That’s Sunset Shimmer for you.”

“Wait!” Fluttershy shouted. “You can’t just attack them!”

“Okay, I’ll try,” Sunset replied, walked to the nearest fish person and patted his back. “Excuse me,” she said. “Do you have time to talk about our lord and saviour, Poseidon?”

The fish person roared, drooling something indescribable on Sunset, who didn’t even flinch, staring into a mouth with way more teeth than any fish should have. After a while, the fish person stopped yelling.

“He doesn’t seem to listen.” Sunset shrugged and kicked the fish person in the place where she thought their family jewels would be. The fish person fell back, but quickly got up, unfazed.

“Damn,” Sunset muttered. “Where are their nuts?”

“Who cares?” Rainbow Dash jumped into the air, spun, and kicked the attacker in the jaw.

“Impressive.” Sunset nodded. “Watch this!” She jumped, stopping in the air for an incredibly long moment, and kicked three fish people in the heads. She landed on the ground and rolled, avoiding another fish person, who stood there, until Rainbow Dash punched him.

“You don’t think your kung-fu is bigger than mine, huh?” Rainbow Dash chuckled, grabbing a baseball bat and hitting the fish person once more.

“It may as well be.” Sunset Shimmer raised another baseball bat and spun it in the air. The head of some hapless fish person flew into the bleachers, accompanied by an organ riff.

“Wanna check?” Rainbow Dash faced Sunset. Pony ears appeared in her hair.

“I don’t think that’s the best moment to–” Sunset’s voice drowned in a roar of an exceptionally large fish person who just emerged from under the ground, grabbed a bench, and threw it at the running audience. The creature roared again and rushed towards Sunset and Rainbow with another bench in its hands.

“Change of plans,” Sunset muttered. “Let’s see who can run faster.”

“I’m not sure if any of us can run faster than that,” Rainbow Dash replied.

“Well, for me it’s enough if I run faster than you…”

The giant fish person got closer. It was at least three metres tall and its arms resembled small cranes. It was about to grab them, when suddenly it collapsed on its knees, clutching to its stomach.

“Hello,” Trixie said, emerging from behind the screaming fish person and twisting a perfect voodoo doll of it in her hands. “Can Trixie give you a lift?” She pointed at her car standing in the middle of the pitch.

“W-what?” Sunset asked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Trixie replied, nearly ripping the doll’s head off. “Took me seven hours to get this fucker right, so you’d better hurry!”

“Wait, where’s Fluttershy?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking around.

“She seems to be wiser than you,” Trixie replied. “I saw her running away.”

The sun shone bright over the town. A little mouse crawled out of the sewer and stood on the pavement. The first thing the creature saw was some big, green human, looking at it.

“Hello, dude,” Tree Hugger said, leaning towards the mouse and blowing the smoke out. “Wanna puff?”

It is often said that people are born with a limited amount of fucks to give. In case of Tree Hugger, the amount was precisely one. She gave it a long time, when she woke up in the middle of the night and discovered that her weed was gone. Now, she grabbed the mouse and put it in her hair. The mouse squeaked and disappeared in the jungle of dreadlocks, where it soon found several friends.

Tree Hugger inhaled the smoke from her joint and turned to face the sun. Unfortunately for her, it hid behind a tall building. Tree Hugger didn’t care; instead of the sun, she saw Fluttershy running towards her.

“Namaste,” Tree Hugger said, bowing. “What brings you here, my dear friend?”

“Fish people!” Fluttershy exclaimed. “They’re attacking the baseball team!”

“Worry not,” Tree Hugger replied. “Fish people are people too.” She gave Fluttershy her joint.

“Yes, but they’re eating other people!” Fluttershy put the joint in her mouth and inhaled. “Where did you get it?”

“From your brother, of course,” Tree Hugger replied. “And you shouldn’t judge them by their diet. Not everyone discovered the benefits of veganism yet.”

“I knew it smelled familiar,” Fluttershy muttered, smiling.

“Did someone mentioned weed?”

When Fluttershy raised her head, she saw three of Tree Hugger’s friend: a green-haired girl called Sweet Leaf, her friend Paisley, and a blue guy with thin moustache everyone called Captain Planet. Whether it was a nickname or his parents actually named him Captain was apparently his biggest secret. Fluttershy knew them well; they once set a lab on fire together because of all the animal testing. The mice also fried, but it was an acceptable loss.

“Sweet Leaf!” Fluttershy exclaimed. “How’s the banana diet?”

“Great,” Sweet Leaf replied. “I almost don’t have diarrhea anymore.”

“Can we not talk about that?” Captain Planet asked.

“We, like, agreed not to talk about your moustache,” Paisley said. “That’s, like, enough for one day.”

“Fluttershy just told me about fish people eating the baseball team,” Tree Hugger said. “Pretty groovy, huh?”

“I always thought we should be more open to different cultures.” Sweet Leaf nodded. “With the growing population and deteriorating quality of soil, we may have to resort to cannibalism ourselves in the nearest future.”

“Stop eating all those bananas,” Captain Planet muttered. “We’re vegans, remember.”

“Anyway, we were just, like, gonna visit Sandalwood,” Paisley said. “We, like, have to stop those lumberjacks from cutting down the rainforests, and he has a howitzer in his basement.”

“Not sure about the basement, but he does have one in his pants,” Sweet Leaf said. Everyone looked at her.

“Oh yeah…” Captain Planet smiled at his thoughts. He stopped when everyone’s gazes turned to him. “Umm… Let’s just go, okay?”

There were no fish people to be seen anywhere, so they just walked to Sandalwood’s house. He used to live with his parents in a big house with a garden the size of a small country. It all ended on one fateful day when his mother accidentally left her credit card at home and found out later that she donated a million dollars to saving polar bears in Afghanistan.

Since then, Sandalwood lived in a squat with Sweet Leaf, Tree Hugger and some other people, spending days on curling each other’s dreadlocks, looking for cheap weed, getting beaten by the members of Diamond Dogs motorcycle gang, and painting graffiti on the walls.

“Don’t you think this is gonna fall apart?” Fluttershy asked, poking the wall of the abandoned building, right below the squatters’ symbol painted on bare concrete.

“The idea will prevail,” Tree Hugger replied, going up the flight of decrepit stairs. Fluttershy and the rest of the Eco Kids followed her through the staircase adorned with graffiti such as “Arise, ye prisoners of starvation!”, “War against Earth”, “After eating at McDonald’s, you’ll shit all the crap of the world”, or “Love people, even though they’d rather see our corpses”.

As they walked up, they slowly realised that something was wrong. The whole place smelled. It was actually a normal thing in a building that no running water and electricity was generated by homemade windmills and shoddy solar cells, but this time the smell was different. Fluttershy sniffed the air and slowly recognised the scent.

“Remember that time when we blew up a slaughterhouse?” Captain Planet asked. “Smells like this.”

Fluttershy nodded. The smell of burned pork caused her body to revolt and made her eat a pound of bacon after coming home. Later, she spent two weeks in her bed, crying over what she’d done.

However, it wasn’t this smell. Tree Hugger rushed to the floor, where she saw the youngest Eco Kid, a short, green-skinned girl called Starlight. She kept being confused with another girl called Starlight and she really hated being asked for Che Guevara t-shirts because of that.

Currently, however, she was just standing in front of the door of Sandalwood’s flat, staring at what was inside. She didn’t seem to be in a mood for loving people. Maybe because she was seeing a corpse.

The whole flat was littered with pieces of pig’s bodies, cut in halves with chainsaws. Blood was smeared on the walls, forming pentacles and other occult symbols. There were also some puddles on the floor, adorned with a large goat’s head drawn in blood. On the opposite side of the room, naked Sandalwood was duct-taped to the wall, his limbs spread in the middle of another bloody pentacle.

“Holy shit, dude…” Tree Hugger muttered. “It’ll take me days to get rid of evil spirits in here…”

“I’d start with calling the ambulance,” Captain Planet replied, swiftly avoiding Sweet Leaf, who just threw up something that looked like a banana cocktail.

“I’d start with untying him.” Paisley walked across the room, carefully avoiding stepping in the puddles, and ripped the tape holding Sandalwood’s arms. When he fell face-first on the floor, she thought that she should’ve started with the legs.

“Is he alive?” Fluttershy asked.

“I think so,” Paisley said. “Dude, you, like, alright?”

Sandalwood muttered something incomprehensible.

“Okay, he’ll be, like, fine.” Paisley smiled, trying to help Sandalwood up. “Who did that to you?”

“I think that’s pretty clear,” Captain Planet said, pointing around the room. “Some satanists!”

“Dude, we, like, have no satanists in town,” Tree Hugger said. “Except maybe that Flash Sentry guy and his band. They seem like sick dudes, man…”

“Could be them.” Captain Planet nodded. “And they defeated us during the Battle of the Bands. I guess I’ll get the van. We need to talk with them.”

“I’ll take that stuff we stashed in my basement for that nuclear power plant we want to destroy,” Sweet Leaf said. “That should make them listen.”

“Are you sure they did that?” Fluttershy asked. Unfortunately for her, the Eco Kids had more THC in their veins than she did.

“Like, totally,” Starlight replied. "Let's get 'em..."

On the roof of the nearby building, Sugarcoat put down her binoculars and bumped fists with Indigo Zap. “Perfect,” she muttered, watching the Eco Kids leave.

“Shouldn’t we kill them all?” Indigo asked.

“One for one, that’s my rule,” Sugarcoat replied. “Also, it wasn’t them.”

“How so?” Indigo asked.

“He didn’t tell where they hid the body.”

Indigo shrugged. “He could’ve lied.”

Sugarcoat looked at her friend and sighed. “Have you ever seen anyone with a car battery on their balls lying?”

“True.” Indigo nodded. “By the way, where did you learn all that? Like, crucifying people and shit?”

Sugarcoat smirked. “From my uncle.”

“Who was he?” Indigo asked. “A fucking Rambo?”

“A librarian,” Sugarcoat replied. “Great at finding rare books and collecting the overdue ones…”

Author's Note

This chapter was at first supposed to be titled "Rehab", but Army of Lovers eventually won over Amy Winehouse.

Jailhouse Rock

Black

and white are

Aria see

She blinked and took a deep breath. Salty water filled her lungs and she suddenly discovered how nice it was to have gills again. Her eyes slowly got used to seeing in murky water. She could recognise the remnants of a plastic bag.

She sighed. At least her friends didn’t get an idea to cremate her or something. Or to indulge into old siren tradition of eating the dead. That probably wouldn’t stop her from eventually getting into the water, but it’d make the regeneration process much slower. Not to mention awkward.

Suddenly, she felt itch in her toes. Looking down,she saw some dark shape nibbling on them.

The fish person saw the leg of his prey moving away from him in slow motion. If fish people had eyebrows, he’d raise one, but since the nature didn’t bless him with such sophisticated organs, he only reached to pull the leg back into his mouth. Big mistake. The leg suddenly came back to his face, hitting it with a wet crunch. More wet than crunch, since sounds don’t carry well underwater.

The fish person flailed its arms, trying to reach the girl in front of him. Due to blood flowing from his mouth, he hardly noticed her transformation. There was now purple webbing between her fingers and toes. She also grew quite impressive fangs. One of them ripped the fish person’s fin apart.

The instinct kicked in, recognising the smell of an old enemy. The fish person turned away, swimming as fast as possible and leaving a bloody trail behind him. There was no way that siren could catch him now…

A pair of muscular legs wrapped around his neck. Before he could react, they moved rapidly upwards, yanking his head. With a loud snap, the spine broke in two. The fish person thrashed a few times before finally going limp.

Aria Blaze smirked, holding a lifeless body in her hands. She was alive and, as usual after having to regenerate, pretty pissed. She eyed the body and licked her lips; it was old and stringy, but she couldn’t afford to complain.

After all, rebuilding her own body required nutrients.

“Are you hungry?” Sunset asked, walking into her living room. Trixie, who was sitting on the couch, nodded. They’d dropped Rainbow Dash somewhere on the way – as soon as they realised there were more fish people hanging out in the town, she decided to go back and look for Fluttershy and Applejack.

“Trixie is always hungry,” Trixie replied. “Though now I’m thinking what are all those fish people doing here. There must be some magic behind it.”

“Definitely,” Sunset said, putting an old tome on the table. “I already wrote to Twilight Sparkle asking about them.”

“This should do.” Trixie nodded. “Maybe she’d come and help us deal with her.” She lay on the couch. “You’ve mentioned food, right?”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Sunset muttered. “Remember we have fish people to deal with.”

“Why we?” Trixie asked. “This town has police. We can get an army here. I guess some smartasses in the crisis management unit thingy are already making plans. Assuming they don’t have one already.”

“Magic,” Sunset replied. “Crisis management was enough for Moondancer, or the Great Girl Scout Uprising, but this time we’ll need magic to fight those creatures.”

“Chronic hero.” Trixie sighed and rolled her eyes.

“What?” Sunset asked. Before Trixie could reply, the book on the table started to vibrate. “It seems that Twilight found a solution.” Sunset opened the book and they both looked at the message.

Dear Sunset Shimmer,

Spike here. Twilight is currently pretty busy with an invasion of mind-controlled filly scouts. However, I managed to talk to her and she says that fish people usually live in the depths of seas and never go to the land, unless summoned by some powerful magical artifact. She also says that you should contact her human counterpart. She should be quite helpful.

Good luck,
Spike

Sunset slammed the book shut. “Ponyfeathers…” she muttered. “Horseapples…”

Trixie raised her hand. “Is that what you ponies say when you mean–”

“Fuck!” Sunset exclaimed.

“Yeah, that.”

Sunset hid her face in her hands. “I screwed up.”

“How so?” Trixie asked. “It’s her who is busy. And we always have that other Twilight to talk to.” She thought for a moment. “Wait… It’s about washing machines, right?”

Sunset nodded.

“You did it on her washing machine?” Trixie sat closer to Sunset, who nodded again.

“Did she see it?”

“Yeah.”

“She hates you now?”

“Probably.”

Trixie licked her lips, unzipping her skirt with her left hand while wrapping the other arm around Sunset. “You looked into her eyes as you came, watching her innocence shatter into a million of tiny little pieces?”

“Well, that’s exactly what– Oh, God fucking damn it, Trixie!” Sunset exclaimed, seeing where Trixie’s left hand was and what it was doing there. “On a side note, who is this God you people keep talking about?”

"He's like Santa Claus, except with bigger elves and more torture." Trixie shrugged. “I’ll tell you later.” She cleared her throat. “Trixie thinks we should go to Twilight anyway and hope she realises that the safety of our word is more important. After we’re done she can hate you as much as she wants.”

Sunset sighed. “That didn’t really help.”

“Who cares?” Trixie got up and zipped her skirt back. “Come on, Sunset, we have a trip to make.”

Flash walked out of the rehearsal hall, carrying a guitar case to his car. Ringo, the bassist of Flash Drive, followed him, muttering something to himself. His eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, were focused on the floor. As far as Flash knew, he was probably coming up with a bass riff that’d make all the girls throw their bras on the stage… if they actually could hear it.

Only after a while, Brawly Beats walked out of the hall, barely visible from behind all the drums he was carrying. “Would you guys wait?” he asked. “You always run after the show to fuck groupies and leave me with those…”

“Such is the fate of guys who can’t comprehend anything more sophisticated than banging a stick against a piece of plastic,” Ringo replied.

“Dude, you play bass,” Brawly Beats muttered. “You can’t teach me about sophistication.”

“Oh please.” Flash, who was almost by his car, turned back to his bandmates. “Stop arguing guys. Everyone knows that the guitarists are the most important.”

“Well, that stunt with female underwear really helped our publicity, I must admit,” Ringo said with a smirk. “You should totally do that again, Flash.”

“Not a chance,” Flash replied. “Though you’re free to do that.”

Ringo’s smirk grew even wider. “If you ask me nicely…”

“Guys, did someone order plutonium from Libyans?” Brawly Beats asked, pointing at the white and blue van approaching them. Before Flash and Ringo could reply, a green-haired girl poked her head out of one of the windows. Followed by hands holding a grenade launcher.

Flash’s eyes widened. “Oh fudge,” he muttered, ducking as the grenade hit his car, sending it flying. He jumped to the side, tackling Ringo just before a stream of bullets from an assault rifle hit the concrete in the place where the bassist was standing.

“What the hell…” Flash looked at the green-haired girl, who was trying to reload the grenade launcher amidst the flames from the wreck of Flash’s car.

“Who cares?” Brawly threw a cymbal at the girl. It left a deep cut on her forehead and made her drop a grenade, which exploded, throwing the van off course and sending it into the nearby lamppost.

The sound of torn metal and breaking glass woke up Flash. He turned away and started running, followed by bullets of the Eco Kids, who ditched their car and were now chasing the hapless members of Flash Drive. He hid behind the corner and jumped over some wall, climbing on the roof of some shed. From there, he could see a short, green girl wearing a tank top and a bandana and holding an assault rifle which was almost bigger than her.

He ducked, seeing her aiming at him. Several bullets hit the wall behind him as he ran, hiding behind the chimneys. Another burst whistled past him as he rolled on the roof, which had no other use than to look awesome.

Flash looked around. There was a higher building nearby, with a pretty convenient metal ladder on the wall. However, he’d have to run to get there, and he just noticed the girl had a few grenades attached to her belt. There was only one way. Unfortunately, down.

Flash darted from behind the chimney and jumped off the building. Halfway through, he thought that finally he was lucky; there were some cardboard boxes stashed on the ground. Unfortunately, he pierced one of them and fell inside, accompanied by a loud crack of his ankle. Screaming, he collapsed on the mattress, his head landing right in front of some orange butt, dressed in panties with small hearts on them.

“What the–” The owner of the panties woke up and looked at Flash. “What are you doing here?”

Flash had to think for a while before he remembered the girl’s name. “Scootaloo!” he exclaimed. “Some psycho wants to shoot me!”

“That’s not a reason to pierce through my ceiling like that,” Scootaloo replied, getting up. “A psycho, you say?”

“Yeah. With an assault rifle.”

“Interesting. Stay here, dude.” Scootaloo grabbed her mobile phone and got out of the cardboard bedroom. After a while of shuffling through the boxes, Flash heard the sound of frantic steps and clicking of the gun.

“Hello.” Scootaloo’s voice was followed by the sound of the phone’s camera. “Would you kindly put that away? You’ll shoot your eye out.”

“No,” Starlight replied. “I need to kill some motherfucker.”

Scootaloo chuckled. “I hardly think so.”

“Out of my way!” Starlight exclaimed. “Or–”

Scootaloo’s phone beeped. “Your photo with a gun and enough grenades to level a small school just got sent to the local police department,” Scootaloo said. “It usually takes them seven minutes to get there. I’d use that time to disappear. I’ve heard girls your age are worth up to two boxes of cigarettes in any female prison.”

“You didn’t–”

“I did,” Scootaloo replied. “Don’t look at me like that. I live in a cardboard box, I have nothing to lose.”

There was a brief moment of pause. To Flash, it seemed that it lasted ages.

“Okay,” Starlight said. “I’ll go and look for him somewhere else.”

“Good girl,” Scootaloo muttered. After a bit of more shuffling of the cardboard boxes, she came back to Flash. “There, dude. She won’t come back here soon.”

“I can’t exactly walk away,” Flash said, pointing at his swollen ankle. “Would you be so kind and call some help or something?”

Scootaloo’s eyes lit up. “Even better,” she replied. “I can give you a massage.”

“Will it help me?”

Scootaloo tossed her slippers aside, revealing her small, proportionally-built feet. Flash looked at her unsurely; it wasn’t common for him to be in a big cardboard box with a barely legal girl wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties.

“Take your pants off,” Scootaloo said. “I’ll help you relax and your ankle won’t hurt anymore.”

“Umm… if you say so…” Flash unzipped his trousers and pulled them down. Scootaloo smirked.

“That’s the same symbol as the one on your car.” She pointed at his boxers. “Getting a little vain, aren’t we?”

“What?” Flash looked at his underwear and realising that some parts of him liked the whole situation more than he did. Luckily, it wasn’t that visible yet, as the blood only started to relocate to that particular area.

“Don’t worry, Sci-Twi also wears custom underwear.” Scootaloo chuckled, lifting her leg. Flash darted back, thinking that she was going to kick him, but she only poked his dick with her toes.

“Oh, come on,” Flash said. “It’s my ankle that needs help…”

“Really?” Scootaloo asked. “I think this is pretty swollen too…” She grabbed his boxers with her toes and pulled them down, revealing his dick to the whole world, standing proudly. “Yeah, what I thought…” She sat in front of Flash, rubbing her panties, and wrapped her feet around his cock.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Flash muttered, but at the same moment, Scootaloo stroked his dick, rubbing her feet against it. “Seriously…”

Scootaloo continued to move her feet up and down, moaning silently. The front of her panties became wet, and Flash realised that his dick was also oozing precum. Scootaloo grabbed a bottle of lube and poured some of it on her feet, increasing the pace.

Flash moaned. The touch of Scootaloo’s feet was a completely new experience for him and soon he felt pressure building up in his balls, gently massaged with Scootaloo’s heels. He moaned. Scootaloo slid her hand in her panties, masturbating in front of him. She took a deep breath, and groaned, her face red. She raised her hand, now coated in juices, and put it in her mouth, sucking on her fingers.

“Scootaloo…” Flash panted. Thinking unsexy thoughts didn’t help, compared to this. I’m gonna…” Suddenly, a wave of semen shot out of his dick, splashing on Scootaloo’s feet and her mattress. Flash gave out another moan and collapsed on the makeshift bed, panting as Scootaloo squeezed his penis with her feet, pushing every last drop of cum out of it.

“Whoa…” Scootaloo muttered, gathering some cum from her leg with her finger and licking it. “Not bad, dude.”

“Umm… Thanks?” Flash blushed. “Can I go now?”

“Already?” Scootaloo asked. “I was hoping for a second round. With more than feet.”

Flash looked down. He wanted to look at his feet, but his dick was on the way, so he looked at it. “Umm… I’m not sure I can…”

“Don’t worry.” Scootaloo reached to a small cardboard box next to her bed and produced some blue pills from it.

“Viagra?” Flash asked. “I’m not sixty!”

“Better.” Scootaloo chuckled. “They’ll make us have a magical night…” She put a pill on her tongue and purred, swallowing it.

“Oh no,” Flash muttered. “Last time I took those, I woke up in female underwear.”

“Don’t worry.” Scootaloo gave him the pill. “It’s only us two here. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Flash looked at the pill, then at Scootaloo, and then back at the pill. “To think about it…”

“Please!” Flash didn’t think Scootaloo’s eyes could get any bigger, but apparently they did.

Flash sighed and swallowed the pill. “Goodbye, consciousness!”

It is a commonly known fact that fish people can’t speak in a language understandable to land-based human beings. However, if they could, the conversation going on between two of them floating in the depths of the ocean, would go more or less like this:

“I have bad news for thee, brother Jeremiah,” the smaller fish person said.

“What is that, brother Barabbas?” the old fish person with fraying, grey fins asked, turning his eyes to his young companion.

“Our sniffers found the skeleton of the late brother Habakkuk,” Barabbas replied. “Woe is me, brother Jeremiah! They say that the late brother Habakkuk, may his name never be forgotten, was devoured by a wicked siren!”

“A siren, thou say?” Jeremiah nodded slowly, his white eyes staring in the unknown depths. “Thou must be mistaken. We hath observed this universe for aeons, and no siren hath ever shown up to bother our humble colony.”

“Sniffers art never wrong,” Barabbas replied. “There is a fierce and lustful siren in those very depths! They also sniffed more of them on the great land beyond the water kingdom.”

The old fish person chuckled, sending some air bubbles around. “Now thou are just saying malarkey, brother Barabbas. Not a single siren ever lived among the land people like brother and sister. They’re twisted, wretched creatures that only crave one thing!” Jeremiah’s eyes lit up as the old man got carried by the wave of saint anger. “That is, an everlasting, perpetuum mobile cock riding their, as those eternal whores know no life but filthy pleasure and no master but their own, throbbing cunt! They–”

Barabbas never learned what else Jeremiah had to say about sirens. Too focused on the old fish person’s words, he didn’t notice a dark shape emerging from the depth and sinking its teeth in Jeremiah’s liver, ripping it out along with some flesh.

Aria turned to Barabbas and smiled, her face covered in blood of dying Jeremiah. “Well, that toad-faced fool wasn’t exactly right,” she said. “We do have other organs we have to listen. For example, stomachs.” With these words, she tackled Barabbas and bit through his carotid artery as he uselessly flailed his arms around. The spurt of blood hid her from the eyes of others as she started devouring her prey.

With the screeching of the brakes, Trixie’s Volkswagen skidded to a halt in front of a large house surrounded by a wall made of red brick. Several bricks fell out of the walls, and were lying on the pavement. Sunset got out of the car, took one of the bricks and broke it in half.

“Twice the distance, same damage,” she said, seeing Trixie’s gaze.

“Trixie will keep that in mind when she wants to throw a brick at someone.” Trixie looked at the house. “Twilight seriously lives here?”

“More or less,” Sunset replied. “She used to live in some storage room in Crystal Prep, but then she had to find something more suitable. Not sure why she chose this particular house. The neighbours are fine, but it’s really easy to break into this house.”

Trixie cleared her throat. “Not that safer houses ever stopped you. And it’s better to knock first, you know.”

“Well…” Sunset stopped trying to open the door with her credit card and knocked.

“Don’t bother,” Trixie said. “She’s not home.”

Sunset turned to Trixie and rolled her eyes. “Let me guess: you deduced that from the store leaflets piling up in her mailbox?”

“That too,” Trixie replied. “She also left a sticky note saying ‘I’m not home’. On a side note, Trixie must admit she has a really nice handwriting.”

Sunset furrowed her eyebrows. “What is that thing with God that humans are saying when someone is fucking retarded?”

“Goddamit?”

Sunset sighed. “Goddamit, Twilight. You’re asking to be robbed, right here.” She took the leaflets and the sticky note. “Well, if she’s not here, then where can she be? Trixie?” She looked at her friend and saw that Trixie wasn’t with her. Instead, Trixie ran to some woman standing by her car.

“Don’t let that filthy cur pee on Trixie’s wheels!” she exclaimed, trying to kick a dog, who just claimed Trixie’s car as his territory. The owner of the dog backpedalled slightly.

Sunset recognised her immediately. “Dean Cadance? What are you doing with Twilight’s dog?”

“Twilight asked me to take care of Spike,” Cadance replied. “She said she had to go somewhere and turned her phone off before I could ask her about that. Do you know where she is?”

“We just wanted to check on her,” Trixie replied. “Did she leave any clues?”

“I’m afraid not,” Cadance replied. “I’m a bit worried about her.” She yanked Spike’s leash. “Not to mention that I have to deal with that smelly thing…”

“That’s a rude thing to say about the dog…” Sunset muttered.

“Spike?” Cadance asked. “No, not him. I mean my daughter. Now I at least have an excuse to leave her with Shining, but it usually ends up with them ruining the whole house.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Sunset said. “But don’t worry, we’ll find Twilight. I think.”

“I’d be grateful.” Cadance walked away, chasing Spike as he darted forward, bored of the conversation.

“Just great,” Trixie muttered, opening her car. “Twilight is missing, and fish people are taking over. What do we do now? Call the cops?”

Sunset shrugged. “Guess we’ll ask in a few places first…”

Flash slowly opened his eyes. The world was spinning around him; he could even hear the sounds coming from a couple of nearby planets. Due to the blue pills, he wasn’t sure exactly what happened to him, but the smell in the cardboard box, as well as the fact that Scootaloo was sleeping on the mattress next to him told him that a lot of things did happen.

“Holy shit…” he muttered, seeing her next to him. Then he found his phone and took a selfie, just to have a proof that it really happened.

A few minutes later he thought that he didn’t know if Ringo and Brawly Beats survived the meeting with Eco Kids. If they didn’t, he wouldn’t have anyone to show the selfie to. Not to mention that finding a new bassist and drummer would be a nuisance. After some considerations, he decided to go and check out on them.

“Scootaloo?” he asked, realising that she was lying on his hand. “Could you–”

“Go back to sleep honey,” Scootaloo muttered. “Unless Mini Sentry is ready for another shot.”

“Maybe later,” Flash replied. He still wasn’t sure about all the details of the night, but he thought that putting a bag of ice on his balls would be a nice idea. “Can you at least let me free my hand? I need to call Ringo.”

“You have the other hand,” Scootaloo replied. “And boy, you can do wonders with it.”

Flash blushed. He was about to call Ringo, when someone knocked at the cardboard door. Flash looked at it, then at Scootaloo, but she apparently wasn’t going to move. Someone knocked again.

“Come in!” Flash exclaimed. “It’s not like it’s locked or anything.”

The door opened and Flash heard steps, as someone walked to the bedroom. When the person showed up, Flash blinked; it wasn’t someone he’d expected.

“Sergeant Copper Top, police,” the pale violet, red-haired policewoman said. “We’re investigating the shootout that happened here yesterday.”

Flash finally managed to yank his numb arm from under Scootaloo. He sat on the bed. “Yeah, a bunch of stoned eco-terrorists tried to shoot me and my friends. I can even give you the names.”

Copper Top removed her sunglasses and looked at Scootaloo. “Is that girl legal?”

Flash looked at Scootaloo. “Umm… I’m not sure?”

“I guess you’ll come to the station with me, then,” Copper Top said.

“What?” Flash exclaimed. “I was shot at! Not to mention that they destroyed my car!”

Copper Top raised her eyebrows. “The one with a lightning painted on the hood?”

“Yes, that one. Can I tell you the names of those people?”

“A witness told us that someone driving such car ran over a girl recently,” Copper Top said. “You’ll come with me, Mr.–”

“Sentry,” Flash said. “I’m not going with you. I know my rights.”

The next thing Flash saw were the electrodes of a taser approaching him much faster than he’d like. Then he fell back on the bed, screaming and twitching.

The handcuffs closed on his wrist. “You have the right to shut the fuck up, filthy pedo,” Copper Top muttered. “You can also get a lawyer, and you probably will, because they’re all amoral cunts. You’ll have a justful trial, and then we’ll shoot you anyway, because that’s how we roll, motherfucker. Come on, we need to get back to the station before all the cool cells are taken. I think we arrested Diamond Dudes recently. They’ll like your company.” She grabbed Flash and dragged him away.

Scootaloo opened her eyes and sat on her bed. Then she grabbed a small box where she kept her most important belongings. She opened it and, after a while of shifting through the stuff, she found a blue plastic card explicitly stating that she was born in late nineties in Gadsby, Alberta.

“Huh,” she muttered to herself. “I probably should’ve told Ms. Policewoman that I’m legal.” She shrugged and went back to sleep.

Aria laughed, chasing away another group of fish people. She lost track of how far she had gotten from the shore, but she didn’t care. Here, in the depths, she was the big fish.

Quite literally. After eating a few more fish people, her moves became sluggish and she could barely keep up with them. She also realised her transformation into a siren was not complete; in fact, she was still mostly human, just with gills, bigger teeth, fin-like hands, and, as far as she could tell, a swim bladder next to the uterus. This pissed her off greatly since, even though her metabolism went into overdrive to resupply the organism after regenerating most of the skull, she couldn’t fit much in her human stomach.

Sighing, Aria swam deeper into the ocean, hoping to hide on the bottom, bury herself in sand, and digest the fish people. Then she’d catch some plankton for a change, and think about what to do later.

However, the water around her grew colder and suddenly, she saw the place where all the fish people were going. It was a deep and dark part of the ocean – Aria usually liked such places, but when her eyes adjusted to darkness, she suddenly thought that going back to the land would be a nice idea.

“Well, we’re all fucked…” she muttered to herself.

Author's Note

Anyone from Gadsby, Alberta here? Folks there are fine, I think. All 25 of them.

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For

Sunset looked at the tall buildings surrounding her and walked down the pavement. Trixie shook her head and followed her, wiping sweat from her forehead and thinking that she should spend more time in the gym.

“So, we asked about her in the hospital, fire station, twenty stores, about ten restaurants, two newspapers, sewage farm, a brothel, a few hotels, all the schools, nuclear power plant, tennis ball factory, cemetery, slaughterhouse, and the local porn studio,” Trixie said. “Nobody has seen Twilight. What’s next? Putting her face on a milk carton?”

“You do that?” Sunset asked. “What for?”

“Not anymore, but there was a time when they put pics of missing children on milk cartons,” Trixie replied. “What do ponies do when their puppy is lost?”

“It’s called a foal,” Sunset muttered, looking at Twilight’s photo. She was pretty sure it was pony Twilight rather than Sci-Twi in it, but after photoshopping glasses on her, she looked just fine. “And when a foal goes missing, we just assume a dragon ate them and move on. Little ponies are rather free-ranging, you know.”

Trixie stopped and looked at Sunset unsurely. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“No,” Sunset replied. “Though they sometimes come back after twenty years of being a local dark lord’s apprentice and try to destroy their village or something. Your approach may be better, to think about it.”

“Dragons, dark lords… What kind of place is on the other side of this portal?” Trixie asked, her eyes widening.

“Well, I was born in Tall Tale. It’s a pretty shitty place by Equestria’s standards, even though I didn’t live there for long,” Sunset replied. “I quickly went off to be–”

“– the local dark lord’s apprentice?”

“Apprentice, yes,” Sunset said. “Local, not really. More like global. And most definitely not dark, despite what some ponies may think. Nothing to talk about, really. I fucked up badly, as you can guess from my past deeds.”

“‘Fucked up’ doesn’t even begin to cover that,” Trixie muttered. “Also, how old are you exactly? In pony and human years, Trixie means.”

“Err…” Sunset stared into the distance. “Seven years in Tall Tale, then being Celestia’s student… Minus ten after I went through the portal…” She looked at Trixie. “Ah, you mean combined age, not the biological one. I guess it’ll be somewhere around forty.”

“Damn, you’re old…” Trixie muttered. “More or less as old as The Birthday Party.”

“I thought they were around for ages?” Sunset raised her eyebrows, nearly walking under a passing car.

“I mean a bunch of Australian nutjobs you’ve probably never heard of,” Trixie replied. “Nevermind, actually. Do we have some other places to visit?”

“I don’t know!” Sunset exclaimed. “I ran out of ideas a while ago, in fact.”

“Yeah, tennis ball factory gave Trixie a clue.” Trixie shrugged, got something out of her pocket and hid it in her hand. “How about trying magic?”

“In this world, it never ends well,” Sunset muttered.

“I don’t mean your magic.” Trixie showed her hand to reveal that it was empty. “Wait, Trixie keeps doing that… Where did Trixie…”

Sunset rolled her eyes. “Would you kindly stop showing off before I magic a kick to your ass?”

“Ah! It’s on the top of your head!” Trixie shouted. Sunset looked up to find a doll depicting Sci-Twi sitting in her hair.

“Oh, please…” Sunset grabbed the doll and tossed it into the air. Trixie watched as the wind blew it off-course, carrying it over the street until it landed by the shoes of a girl standing in front of a convenience store. The girl picked the doll up, looked at them, and raised her hand in the Vulcan salute.

“See?” Trixie asked. “It’s a sign.” She walked to the girl. “Hello, Vinyl. Did you happen to see Twilight recently?”

Vinyl got a cigarette from behind her ear and put it in her mouth. Then she looked at Trixie and Sunset.

“I don’t have a lighter,” Sunset said.

“Trixie should have matches…” Trixie searched her pockets and found a box. When Vinyl lit up her cigarette, she smiled and raised her sunglasses, giving Trixie and Sunset a look suggesting profound wisdom.

Sunset rolled her eyes again. “Stop acting like some indie Jesus and tell us where’s Twilight.”

Vinyl looked at the doll and her smile grew even wider. She blew the smoke out and raised her head.

“I swear, if she points at the door, I’m gonna punch her through the wall,” Sunset muttered.

Luckily, Vinyl pointed at some small, closed store down the street. Trixie looked there and turned back to her, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s closed,” she said. “What’s there? The hideout of some pervert she met online and who locked her there, tied her up, and ate her tongue?”

Vinyl shook her head.

“What else can it be, then?” Sunset asked. “A brothel?”

Vinyl nodded slowly, raising her hand and making a “so-so” gesture.

Sunset sighed. “Okay, so something like a brothel. What’d Twi look for there? Last time I checked she wasn’t really interested in anything.”

“Dunno,” Trixie said. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Vinyl raised her hand to her mouth, as if she was drinking. Then she stabbed her elbow with her fist a few times and bucked her hips forward.

“Trixie is guessing she was having a good time,” Trixie muttered. “Also, Vinyl, it’d be much easier if you learned sign language or something.”

Vinyl sighed. She then raised her right hand with the index finger pointing to the left and middle finger pointing down to her nose, touched it with the middle finger, and then showed her hand to Trixie, forming something that looked a bit like an “okay” gesture.

“Err… what?” Trixie asked.

Vinyl sighed again and showed Trixie what she thought about her with her middle finger.

“Hey, I know this one!” Sunset chuckled. “Okay, Vinyl, thanks for help. We gotta find Twilight.” She pulled Trixie away from Vinyl and they walked down the pavement.

After a moment of silence, Sunset spoke up. “Hmm, to think about it… Does she ever speak?”

“No.”

“Why?”

”It’s a long and complicated story,” Trixie replied. “One has no idea that such things can happen to people.”

“So, what’s the story?” Sunset asked.

“I don’t know.” Trixie shrugged. “She never told.”

Sunset groaned and shook her head. “You humans are annoying, you know? And I still can’t get you all.”

“You got quite a lot,” Trixie said. “Though Trixie wonders why you didn’t know about God while knowing about Jesus.”

“Jesus?” Sunset asked. “You mean that cool Mexican dude from the memes is somehow connected to bad Santa everyone mentions when they swear?”

“Trixie stands corrected,” Trixie replied. “You don’t know jack shit about humanity.”

“Who’s Jack?” Sunset asked.

“Nevermind.”

“Okay, I know it’s an expression!” Sunset exclaimed. “And stop acting like Cinch on her period just because a mute DJ flipped you off.”

“What?” Trixie asked. “No, that’s because we had to leave the car on the only free parking lot and we keep walking since then. I hate walking.”

“It keeps you healthy,” Sunset said. “Remember when you were showing magic tricks on youtube and one commenter wrote that you lost some weight?”

“That was you?” Trixie looked at Sunset and smiled.

“No, but I found that cute,” Sunset replied. “Also, we need to find Twilight to help us get rid of fish people. Think of it as some kind of a mission.”

“From God?”

“What does Santa have to do with that?” Sunset asked.

“It’s a movie reference.” Trixie rolled her eyes.

“I haven’t seen this movie.” Sunset walked to the metal door of the closed store and knocked.

“What?” Trixie’s eyes widened. “Once it’s over, I’ll have to show it to you. ‘Tis Trixie’s duty.”

Sunset didn’t listen, looking at the door. After waiting for a while, she knocked again.

“We’re closed!” a rude voice exclaimed. “Come back in the evening. We’ll have acid lollipops and Bitches with Power Tools, if you’re interested.”

“We’re looking for a friend,” Sunset said. “Have you seen her? Purple, glasses, doesn’t talk much, blushes a lot. When you see her, you want to hug her and give her your jacket.”

“Ah, slutty schoolgirl,” the voice replied. “She banged half of the club a few days ago, but we had to kick her out after she started humping people twice her size.”

Sunset gulped. “Where is she now?”

“One of the patrons said she went to that nutjob who lives in a cardboard box. I don’t know that person, or where they live.”

“Okay, thanks,” Sunset turned back and walked away. Trixie followed her, running to keep up with her.

“What now?” Trixie asked. “Trixie doesn’t know anyone who’d live in a cardboard box.”

“Don’t worry,” Sunset replied. “I know.”

“You call that a cardboard box?” Trixie asked, parking her car in the nook. “Trixie is pretty sure the town would like to get its property tax back…”

“Well, technically it stands in the street,” Sunset replied. “So I guess it breaks some other laws, but no one gives a fuck.”

“Yeah.” Trixie opened the door of her car and got out of it. “Let’s see if someone’s home.”

Sunset walked to the pile of cardboard boxes towering over her and started to look for the door. After a while, she realised there either were none, or they weren’t any different from the wall, so she just knocked on the random piece of cardboard.

“Who’s there?” Scootaloo’s sleepy voice could be heard from the inside. “Wait a minute, I’m naked.”

Exactly fifty-four seconds later, a piece of cardboard far away from Sunset opened and Scootaloo walked out. Sunset wasn’t very picky about clothes, hardly wearing them for most of her life, but she still felt that a pair of panties and a black t-shirt labelled “Budding Sexuality” were not something one’d wear when meeting guests.

“Hi, Sunset,” Scootaloo said. “What’s up?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” Sunset replied. “Have you seen her?”

Scootaloo scratched her unkempt hair. “Wait a minute… The last week is a bit blurry, like an old VHS tape. I spent most of it listening to Pink Floyd on repeat and doing cough syrup after I ran out of blue pills. Then I got the flashback from the pills and actually saw several species of small furry animals gathered together in a cave and grooving with a Pict. It scared the shit out of me, and I swear, I’m not gonna do drugs again. I’m gonna go back to the ballet school. They need tall girls.”

“Cool.” Sunset couldn’t help but notice that Scootaloo was a runt; if one placed a beer on her head, she’d make a fine table. “I’d like you to rewind the tape and check if there’s Twilight in it, okay?”

“Sure.” Scootaloo nodded. Then she scratched her butt. When it didn’t help, she also scratched her hair.

“Do you have fleas?” Trixie asked.

“No, but I have hepatitis B. Want some?” Scootaloo asked.

“Eww!” Trixie jumped back. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is germophobic.”

Scootaloo groaned. “I don’t think it’s something you can state like that in a modern society.”

“Trixie thinks you should read something else than this website name of which Trixie can’t pronounce.”

“Trixie, please.” Sunset smacked Trixie’s arm. “Stop offending everyone who can help us.” She turned to Scootaloo. “So, what about Twilight?”

“I remember now,” Scootaloo replied. “She came here, and we had lots of sex.”

“And what happened then?” Sunset asked.

“I put my foot into her pussy.”

“That detail was irrelevant,” Sunset deadpanned. “What happened to her after you had sex?”

“Ah, this,” Scootaloo muttered. “The police came and took her because they thought I was underage. And then there was that girl with a gun and then it got blurry. When I woke up, I was trying out buttplugs.”

“Wait, what? The police?” Trixie asked. “Why’d they think you were underage?”

“No idea,” Scootaloo replied. “I was half-asleep, and couldn’t get my ID. I probably should’ve gone to them and do that.”

“Idea!” Sunset exclaimed. “You’re going with us. Just get your ID and we’ll take you to the station.”

“And put some pants on!” Trixie grabbed a bottle of hand sanitiser. “Also, no bleeding in a car if you have hepatitis B. Do you have tuberculosis?”

“Your car has an old cum stain the size of my head on the backseat,” Sunset muttered. “Which probably is a bigger source of germs than her. You don’t expect her to provide a chest x-ray before earning the right to sit in it?”

“It does?” Trixie asked. “Must’ve been when we were coming up with a new song and Lavender Lace came all over it. She gets pretty excited by my voice.”

“Dude, we really didn’t need to know that,” Scootaloo said.

“Said the girl with moist feet,” Sunset muttered. “Now, get the trousers and we hit the road!”

The police station smelled of old papers, grain coffee, and overwhelming feeling of guilt. When Sunset walked inside, she saw two policemen escorting a tall blonde man in remains of a pink shirt.

“Isn’t it that guy from Fledgeling Changeling?” Trixie asked. “I wonder if he’s really a changeling.”

“Changelings aren’t real,” the blonde man said.

“Then why are you arrested?” Sunset asked.

“Tax evasion.” The singer sighed as the policemen dragged him away.

Sunset shrugged and turned to Scootaloo as they walked down the grey corridors. “What was the name of that cop?”

Scootaloo furrowed her eyebrows. “Topper Cop, or some shit like that.”

“Copper Top,” Trixie said. “If you got whacked over the head with a baton for playing three-card Monte in the street, you’d remember the name too.”

“Sounds like a cool person,” Sunset muttered. “Back in Equestria, I once sneaked out of the castle, got drunk, and fought twenty cops in the nooks of Canterlot. Princess Celestia was very mad.”

“Because you won?” Scootaloo asked.

“Not really. They brought a guy who knew an old, military-grade spell.” Sunset shuddered. “At least Celestia gave me my hearing and sight back, though only after a week. That didn’t teach me anything, though.”

“Story of my life,” Scootaloo muttered. “My parents got mad when Applejack dragged me out of the pigpen naked.”

“I’d rather not hear the end of this,” Sunset said, stopped in front of some door. “Seems that it’s this Copper Top’s office.” She knocked.

“Come in!”

Copper Top was sitting at her desk, littered with batons, truncheons, nightsticks, coshes, billy clubs, and other tools suitable for inflicting grievous bodily harm on anyone stupid enough to break law in her presence. Her eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses; she was holding a particularly big breaker of lawbreakers and polishing it in a way Sunset could describe only as overly eager.

“I know you,” Copper Top said, pointing her baton at Trixie. “I didn’t get a promotion because of you.”

“Well, Trixie is sorry for getting a concussion,” Trixie muttered. “Leave that glorified dildo, officer, we mean business.” She put her hand on Scootaloo’s arm and pushed her to the front. “We heard that you’ve arrested our friend for having a sexual congress with this young lady here.”

“Among other things,” Copper Top replied. “Although the car apparently wasn’t the one that ran that girl over, so only this stays.”

“Yeah, about that,” Scootaloo said. “I’m totally eighteen. And I have an ID to prove it.” She produced the card from the pocket of her trousers and put it on the desk.

“Looks weird,” Copper Top muttered, looking at it.

“I’m Canadian,” Scootaloo replied. “Is that a crime?”

“One day it may be.” Copper Top stood up. “Okay, wait here, I’ll bring this fucker here.” She walked out of the office.

“Fucker?” Sunset asked. “That’s a weird thing to say about a girl. ‘Cunt’ would be more appropriate.”

“I’m more worried about the car thing,” Trixie said. “Does Twi have a car?”

“Her?” Sunset chuckled. “I tried to teach her to drive once. We didn’t even get out of the parking lot outside the store, but she did manage to roll the car over.”

The door opened and Copper Top walked in, followed by Flash Sentry. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt exposing amateurishly-looking tattoos on his arms. His eyes were sunken and it seemed that he hadn’t shaved for at least a week.

“Hello, fellow human beings,” Flash said in a gravy voice. “It’s been ages since I saw the sunlight.”

“No shit, dude, it’s been, like, a day or two since we fucked,” Scootaloo replied.

“There he is,” Copper Top said, sighing. “Take him and get out.”

“Wait!” Sunset stood up and walked to the policewoman. “There must’ve been a mistake. Frankly, we expected a woman. Don’t you have any purple girls there?”

“Nope, only this dude. Though I’m gonna tell you one thing.” Copper Top slowly removed her glasses. “It seems that this little girl is really fucked.”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo muttered. “I told you last week was kinda blurry. First I fucked Twilight, then him.”

“When in prison, I saw things you’d never imagine,” Flash muttered.

“No one gives a fuck!” Trixie exclaimed, pointing at Scootaloo. “How come her sex life is more interesting than mine?”

“You’d better finish this conversation outside,” Copper Top said. “Or I’ll be forced to employ police brutality.”

Trixie kept whining on the whole way back to the car. “This is bullshit! We’re all gonna get eaten by fish people only because Flash Sentry couldn’t keep it in his pants! Well, thank you, Flash Sentry!”

“Shut up,” Sunset muttered. “We need to think where Twilight could be…”

The doctor sat in front of Twilight and smiled at her before looking into the documents in front of him. “So, Ms. Sparkle, I must say that you’re the healthiest drug addict I’ve seen in my life.”

“Umm… thanks?” Twilight blushed.

“After all the drugs were removed from your system, we expected you to go into withdrawal, but you’re taking it surprisingly well. Urine samples show that you’re clean,” the doctor said. “However, you’re slightly underweight, you seem to have irritable bowel syndrome, carpal tunnel, asthma, and hypertension, but no STDs, hepatitis, TB, or anything our patients usually have.”

“Too much coffee,” Twilight muttered. “And when I work on something, I forget to eat.”

“Ah, I see,” the doctor replied. “Does it happen often?”

“All the time,” Twilight said. “I don’t get much sleep.”

“Yeah.” The doctor nodded and looked into the papers. “You’ve mentioned coffee… How about alcohol?”

“Not much,” Twilight replied. “Rainbow Dash says I’m a lightweight. When I drink, I dance on the table and throw up. I also throw up when I don’t drink, but that goes with the irritable bowel.”

“You don’t throw up here, however,” the doctor muttered.

“Meals at the same hours every day,” Twilight said. “And it’s something that’s not instant noodles.”

“Sure.” The doctor looked into Twilight’s eyes. “I have some theory… Actually, how often do you do drugs?”

“Umm…” Twilight smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I took those blue pills once.”

“Just once?”

“Well, you can get addicted if you take them once,” Twilight replied. “And I went here right after they wore out.”

“How thoughtful of you,” the doctor muttered. “As for now, we’re pretty sure you’re not addicted. However–”

“I’m not?” Twilight exclaimed. “Please, don’t kick me out! I like this place and my roommate is so cool!” She shuddered. “I don’t want to go…”

“However, your social anxiety may lead to substance abuse,” the doctor said. “You can stay in here if you want, but you can’t stay here forever. The therapy will involve going outside some day.”

“Well, I’m not that bad with going outside,” Twilight said, smiling. “And I don’t tear holes in reality anymore.”

“What?”

“It happened once, when I unleashed the magic.”

The doctor shook his head and put the papers on the desk. “It seems to me that the therapy will take a little longer…”

Author's Note

Headcanon: pony Twilight has none of the ilnesses Sci-Twi has, mostly because Spike can take care of her better when he's a dragon and not a dog.

In the Summertime

The sun was already setting, painting the sky bloody red. Aria emerged from the sea slowly, looking at her body. It had lost most of the traits it had when she was chasing fish people. She now looked like a normal human girl, using her lungs to breathe, and most certainly not having teeth that could rip anyone to shreds.

She stood on the beach, waiting for the wind to dry her. Unfortunately for her, her clothes didn’t survive her transformation and the fights she’d gotten into, so she looked like a particularly big fan of skinny dipping. It also meant that Aria had to improvise.

She looked around. At this time of day, there was almost no one there, but after a while she spotted two guys sitting near the boulevard and drinking something from a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag. Aria smirked and started sneaking to them.

“While Schopenhauer was fascinated with Kant, his own philosophy is somewhat a complete opposite of it,” the taller of the guys said to his chubby friend. “On the other hand, Nietzsche, although brilliant–”

“Excuse me,” Aria said. “I need your clothes, your boots–”

“We don’t have a motorcycle,” the shorter guy replied. Aria was pretty sure she’d seen the both in school. The taller one was weirdly fascinated with snails.

“Holy shit, terminator!” the taller guy exclaimed. “We don’t know this guy that will defeat Skynet in the future, we swear!”

“Oh, shut up,” Aria muttered. “I’ll just borrow your clothes and give them back later.”

“We don’t help killers from the future,” the taller guy said.

Aria sighed. “Okay, we’ll do this the hard way…”

Three minutes later, Aria was walking down the narrow street wearing cargo trousers and a black t-shirt with “Cynicism, Nihilism, Sarcasm and Orgasm” written in the front. She also had a pair of sneakers; while the tall guy had big feet, it turned out that his friend just happened to wear her size.

Aria hissed. She didn’t steal the guys’ underwear, and only beat them enough to take off their clothes. Not because she was kind-hearted. She was simply getting tired and hungry.

Luckily for her, she spotted an open restaurant, mostly likely waiting for stoners going back from parties. She smirked and walked inside.

“Coriander,” she said, seeing the restaurant’s owner sweeping the floor. He smiled; Aria was one of his best clients. “Make me ten bowls of chicken tikka masala. That’ll be a good start.”

“Sure,” Coriander replied, already counting the income. “Something else, Ms. Blaze?”

“Can I make a phone call?” Aria asked. “Some dick stole my phone.”

“Saffron will borrow you hers,” Coriander replied and walked to the kitchen. Soon, his daughter put her phone on Aria’s table. Aria suddenly remembered that she didn’t know Adagio or Sonata’s number, relying on her phone’s memory. Unfortunately, her phone was now somewhere on the bottom of the sea.

“Don’t worry,” Saffron said. “Sonata gave me her number once. She apparently thinks it’s us who call her when she wants to order something.”

“Ah, of course.” Aria shook her head and grabbed the phone.

Since Aria was killed, nothing ever was the same in the Siren’s household. Their days used to be filled with plotting the new ways to regain powers and take over the world. They used to travel, remembering the old days of past glory. Now all that was left were cheap whisky and crappy telly.

“Now, to go into a story, you have to say the magic words: entra Al cuento.”

“Entra Al cuento,” Sonata repeated in a slurry manner – quite understandable given that she’d drunk enough whisky to kill half of the show’s target demographic.

“I’d entra her cuento if she wasn’t underage.” Adagio hiccuped. “But at least now I know why you know Spanish…”

Sonata nearly slid off the couch, guffawing and spilling her whisky everywhere. “Thwiper, thtop thwiping!”

“I mean, that’s so retarded.” Adagio sighed. “They should’ve shot your ass instead of Aria.” She took a sip of her whisky and shook her head. “What have we become, Sonata?”

She didn’t get to hear any coherent reply. Instead, she heard the first tones of some sweet pop tune. The cogwheels in her head moved slowly, identifying the melody as Sonata’s ringtone.

Staggering across the room, Adagio reached the phone lying on the chest of drawers next to the door and picked it up, resting herself against the wall. “The person you’re trying to call is too drunk to make it to the toilet, not to mention any sensible conversation. Please, try again later.” She slid on the floor and put the phone away next to her.

A second later, the phone called again. Adagio sighed and picked it up.

“Adagio, you shit-faced offspring of a mangy jackal and a diseased fish cunt, what in the name of fuck are you doing?”

“A-aria?” Adagio asked. “We’re kinda busy mourning your death. Could you call tomorrow?”

“I’m not dead, you degenerate moron!” Aria shouted loud enough for Sonata to hear her. “I’m at Coriander Cumin’s place, stuffing myself with chicken tikka masala. Get your lazy ass over here and pick me up. I’m tired of walking.”

“We’re d-drunk and Sonata doesn’t have a licence anyway…” Adagio muttered. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go back o-on your own.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Aria replied, ending the call.

“What’th up?” Sonata asked.

“Aria’s alive.”

“What?” Suddenly, Sonata stood up, apparently completely sober. She groaned and rolled her eyes, then she opened the basement door. Adagio heard some inhuman screams as Sonata walked downstairs.

A few minutes later, Sonata came back, dragging Sour Sweet with her. The yellow girl’s clothes were torn and dirty, she smelled of sweat and feces, and her big eyes were empty and lifeless. When Sonata released her, she dropped limply to the floor, shuddering.

“Can you believe it?” Sonata asked. “I made her watch Star Wars Holiday Special on repeat for nothing!”

Twist waited.

Standing on the roof, she was looking at the dark window of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’s love nest. So far, they didn’t show up, but Twist waited anyway. Her face was hidden behind a silk mask and she spent quite a while hiding her mane under a hood. Her pockets were filled with knives and shurikens. A bokken was hanging from her back.

Twist smirked. Even if they didn’t show up, they had no chance to avoid her wrath. Even if everything else failed, they still had her blue pills.

Bon Bon never suspected anything. Over time, Twist made a few changes in the chemical structure of the pills and now the trip could as well end up in the better world, without a return ticket. Also, prolonged exposure usually resulted in infertility, something Twist was especially proud of. In twenty years, everyone weak-minded enough to take drugs would remove their genes from the pool.

Twist waited. She knew that her plan wouldn’t automatically make the world a better place, but that was an important step. There were many more of them on the way, but she was prepared for this.

That was what the red pills were for.

Aria groaned and kicked an empty can down the pavement. After eating twenty bowls of chicken tikka masala she realised that she’d spent all the money she found in the wallet of the guy who, after some persuasion, generously gave her his clothes. She looked at the clock in the bar. There was an hour till the next night bus and Aria didn’t feel like going home by foot. However, it seemed that she had no choice – she didn’t have money for a cab, not to mention that cab drivers looked at her askew since she’d punched one across the street.

Cursing under her breath, Aria walked out of the bar and went down the pavement. There was no one in the streets; only an old newspaper rolled on the concrete carried by the wind. A fish person was hiding behind the trash cans, but he ran away, smelling Aria.

Suddenly, Aria heard the sound of a car engine somewhere behind her. She turned, hoping that it’d be those two girls who shot her. Nothing made her feel better like a bloody murder, and those two definitely deserved it.

However, it was a different car; Aria thought that it was something similar to the one she drove in Germany before unstable political climate forced her to run away. She shrugged and waved her hand at the car, sticking out her thumb. After all, the driver couldn’t be worse than her. Even though Aria walked through the valley of the shadow of death, she feared no evil because she was the most psychotic individual there.

To her surprise the car stopped. One of the windows opened and when Aria looked inside, she saw Sunset Shimmer sitting next to the driver.

“Siren girl, huh?” Sunset asked. “Do you need a lift?”

“Kinda,” Aria replied, fighting the urge to toss the car into the air. With her stomach stuffed with chicken, she probably wouldn’t be able to do that anyway. “Do you go to the centre, by any chance?”

“Sure.” Sunset opened the door and got out to let Aria in. To her surprise, she saw that the Volkswagen was full of people. Behind the wheel, there was a girl Aria recalled from Battle of the Bands as the leader of Trixie and The Illusions. She took a wild guess that her name was Trixie.

Aria sat next to an orange, hyperactive girl sitting in the middle of the backseat, near a grim, unshaved man with several tattoos. After a while of looking at him, Aria remembered a band called Flash Drive. It didn’t take her long to figure his name out.

“Okay, does anyone has any idea where else Twilight can be?” Sunset asked. It seemed that Aria’s appearance interrupted a long conversation, if only for a while.

“Everyone has that place where they are alone and they feel safe,” Flash muttered in a gravy voice. “I wish I was in my cell.”

“Dude’s right,” the small girl said. “How about Crystal Prep?”

“Been there,” Sunset replied. “No trace of Twilight.”

“Yeah.” Trixie nodded. “We tried to check all those fingerprints on the walls, but none of them belong to her.”

“Canterlot High?”

“The janitor thought we were fish people,” Sunset replied.

“Another couple of shotgun holes in the back of Trixie’s car,” Trixie muttered.

“Twilight?” Aria asked. “You mean that purple nerd?”

Suddenly, she was grabbed by the orange girl, who pulled her towards herself until their noses almost touched. “You know something about her, fish girl, don’t you?”

“N-no,” Aria muttered. “I mean, she might be in a nuthouse for all we know. About time.”

“Nuthouse!” Trixie exclaimed. “We didn’t check there!”

“No.” Sunset shuddered. “Anything but the nuthouse…”

“Sounds fine to me,” Flash whispered. “It’s small and you are locked there. Life is so simple…”

“Hold me, or I’ll whack him with something.” Sunset rolled her eyes. “Sentry, stop behaving like you were in prison for all your life and you’re about to record a rap album about that! Do you want to play rap?”

“No!” Flash exclaimed, suddenly sounding much clearer than before. “Anything but golden chains and sagging pants!”

“Knew it,” Sunset muttered. “He has a phobia. That’s one of his weirdest traits, along with calling his dick–”

“– Mini Sentry?”

“Scootaloo!” Sunset exclaimed, her face bright red.

“Am I the only one person in this car who didn’t sleep with him?” Trixie asked. "Trixie doesn't count the doll, of course."

“No, I didn’t either,” Aria muttered, currently rethinking her life choices.

“You don’t count,” Scootaloo said. “You’re more fishy than my cunt after my shower broke.”

“Racist,” Aria replied. “Also, fish people and sirens are not the same thing, moron. We’re higher in the food chain.”

“Really?” Sunset muttered. “You could help us by eating some of them.”

“I’m already full.” Aria patted her stomach and burped.

“Anyway, Trixie would like to come back to the topic of the nuthouse,” Trixie said. “Why don’t we go there?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Sunset muttered. “That’s not something I’m proud of.”

“We all did something we’re not proud of!” Scootaloo exclaimed, pointing at Flash. “Like, I did him, he did me, and Aria’s a siren.”

“I can break her hand,” Aria muttered.

“I think we should go to the nuthouse,” Flash said. “What else can we do? Drive around the town till we run out of fuel?”

“We can’t.” Sunset shrugged. “We don’t know if she’s really there, and I’d rather not break in there without knowing that first.”

“No problem, dude.” Scootaloo produced her phone. “Let’s see if I have the number… Oh, there it is.”

“Who is she calling?” Aria asked. “Besides, I think we’ll be on my street soon.”

“Wiz Kid?” Scootaloo asked. “Hello, dude. What’s up? Video games? With Scribble Dee? What happened to her bae? Beaten by sirens? Coolio. Listen, gotta drop at your place with a few homies. Need to take a look at some top secret data. No, not NSA again. Something easier, dude. I’ll pay with blowjobs. Yeah? Awesome, dude. Yeah, gnarly. In a while, crocodile.” She put the phone down. “Good news, friends. I found a solution.”

Aria really wanted to know what the solution would exactly be, but then she saw that they were near her house. She patted Trixie’s back, saying, “Gotta leave you here.”

“Sure thing,” Trixie replied, stopping the car near the curb. “Trixie hopes you’re happy with our services.”

“Services, yes,” Aria muttered, opening the door. “Company, not so much.”

“We love you too,” Sunset replied. The car drove away, leaving Aria on the pavement, accompanied only by some girl whose name Aria couldn’t remember. The girl was resting herself against the wall and when Aria approached her, she noticed that she was wearing Sonata’s spare clothes.

“Who are you?” Aria asked.

“I was held in a basement by some freaks!” the girl exclaimed. “And they did…” She shuddered. “Then they got a phone call, let me out, let me take a shower, and gave me clean clothes. But they’re still fucking psychos!”

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Aria replied, walking to the door.

“Oh you will?” The girl smiled. “They need to be put in prison to be fucked by chicks with dicks forever!”

“That wouldn’t be wise,” Aria replied. “I can’t pay the rent myself.” She rushed upstairs, away from the girl.

As soon as she got to her flat, she was greeted by Sonata who tackled her to the ground. Aria barely managed to hold the chicken in her stomach – sobering or not, Sonata still reeked of alcohol, not to mention that she sat on Aria.

“Get off me!” Aria smacked Sonata, sending her at the wall.

“Good to have you back!” Sonata exclaimed.

“So, you regenerated in seawater,” Adagio said. Unlike Sonata, she seemed sober, although Aria was pretty sure that if she stood up, she’d stagger a lot. “Do you know what it means?”

“We still have some of our powers!” Sonata shouted. “If we learn to use them again, we’ll take over this town, and start turning it into ruins, until they promise to let us eat fast food for free.”

Aria sighed. “We may want to start in some other town. Preferably a hundred miles away from the ocean.”

“Who so?” Adagio asked. “This one is perfect.”

“Except it has fish people,” Aria replied. “I saw them and even ate some of them. They’re exactly like the good old fish ponies from our home universe.”

Sonata shuddered. “How did they get here?”

“Fuck me if I know.” Aria shrugged. “No, Sonata! I don’t know!”

“Aww…” Sonata pulled her skirt back up.

Adagio looked at the wall, thinking, and frowned. “So you mean that–”

“Yes,” Aria replied. “And when The Mother of All the Fish People is awoken, we will wish we were screwed…”

“So, Wiz Kid,” Scootaloo said as they parked in front of a large house in the suburbs. “You’d never say, but the guy did most of the chicks in class. And some guys.”

“Do you always describe people by how many partners they had?” Flash asked, getting out of the car and looking around.

“Not always,” Scootaloo replied, smiling at Flash. “Number forty-eight.”

“Damn,” Flash muttered. “Gotta get tested or something.”

“What number was I?” Scootaloo asked. “One? Two?”

“Three,” Flash deadpanned, walking to the door and knocking. “But for Sunset, I was the number one.”

“You do realise that doesn’t cover Equestria?” Sunset asked. “There was a time when I really disregarded Princess Celestia’s teachings. In all matters.”

“What was in Equestria, stays in Equestria.” Flash knocked again. “You said the guy was playing video games with some chick?”

“She may be playing with his joystick by now.” Scootaloo chuckled. “Trixie, how about you? Who did you show the tricks up your sleeve?”

“Trixie is waiting for the one and only,” Trixie replied. “Though we’re really close with the girls from the band.”

“And his name shall be, ‘Trixie’s Hand’.” Scootaloo shook her head and banged at the window. “Wiz Kid! What the hell are you doing in there?”

A few seconds later, the door opened. “Sorry, guys, that was our only chance to own Button Mash’s ass,” a short, brown-haired boy said. “Hello, Scootaloo’s friends. I’m Wiz Kid and I’m gonna be your guide.”

The followed him to his room. When Sunset entered it, she immediately thought of ancient temples Daring Do often visited. This one seemed to be inhabited by some weird cult, worshipping action figures, toys, books, computer games, comic books, and all the related merchandise. In the middle of all that, a short, orange-haired girl in thick glasses was sitting, her eyes focused on one of the laptops.

“Are those Trixie and The Illusions body pillows?” Trixie asked.

Wiz Kid chuckled, blushing. “Yeah… Well…”

“Trixie owns seven.”

“Really?” Wiz Kid exclaimed. “Could you sign it for me?”

“Of course.” Trixie produced a marker from her pocket and signed a body pillow of herself. She then sat on Wiz Kid’s bed, next to Sunset and Flash.

“How’s life going?” Scootaloo asked. “Still with Starlight?”

“She texted me that they arrested her,” Wiz Kid replied. “Someone sent the police her photo with an assault rifle. Did you hear about that?”

Scootaloo shook her head. “No.”

“Of course not,” Flash muttered. “So, you two…”

“No, we just play games,” Scribble Dee said. “Microchip needs me. Anyway, you wanted something.”

“Yeah,” Sunset replied. “I’ve heard you can check where Twilight Sparkle is.”

“You have to hack the computer system of the mental hospital,” Trixie said, yawning. “Guess we’ll have to crash in here. If it takes long…”

Wiz Kid laughed. “You must be joking!”

“You can’t do that?” Sunset asked. “Just great…”

“No.” Wiz Kid sat at his laptop and banged at the keys. “It’s a hospital. Their safety measures are not exactly rocket science. And before you ask, Scribble Dee and I once took over a Mars rover.” He chuckled. “If you ever hear about someone discovering ‘eat shit’ written on the surface of Mars, it was us.” He clicked a few more keys. Sunset took a peek at the screen, but all she saw were several lines of code flashing quickly.

“It shouldn’t take long.” Wiz Kid said.

“What exactly are you doing?” Flash asked, looking at the screen.

“Exploiting a backdoor in this version of their antivirus. You know how people never update anything?” Wiz Kid wrote some more code and the computer chirped. A dialog box labelled “Insert patient’s name” appeared on the screen. “There you go. All your base are belong to us.”

“So, can you check Twilight Sparkle for us?” Sunset asked. “S-P-A-R-K-L-E.”

Wiz Kid typed the name. The computer hummed for a moment before beeping.

“One result,” Trixie said. “Twilight Sparkle, admitted five days ago, initial diagnosis: F16.10, uncomplicated use of hallucinogens, further diagnosis: E44.1, F41.1, F20.9, whatever that means… Lives in the room 101 with… Sunset Shimmer?”

“What?” Sunset moved away from Trixie, almost hiding in the corner of the room.

“Well…” Trixie scratched her head. “Didn’t you say that everyone has a counterpart in your world?”

“Yes?” Sunset muttered.

“How come we’ve never seen yours, then?” Flash asked.

“I saw her,” Trixie said. “We were in kindergarten together.”

“We did?” Sunset raised her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, she wasn’t such a douchebagel as you used to be,” Trixie replied. “One could say she was a cinnamon roll, kinda.”

“Stop those half-baked metaphors,” Sunset muttered. “I was bad when I came here, but she was on her way to the nuthouse anyway. I just pushed a few buttons, metaphorically speaking.”

“Just like with Twilight?” Scootaloo asked.

“What?” Sunset exclaimed. “No, not like with Twilight. It’s like–”

“You must admit that sending people to the asylum is your thing,” Trixie muttered. “And that poor girl is sitting there with Twilight for what, years?”

“Poor girl?” Sunset asked. “Last time we met, she thought I was her hallucination, grabbed a shotgun and started shooting at me. Do you know where I have a scar?”

“On your butt,” Flash muttered. “Also, can you stop arguing like old women? If I recall correctly, we have a mission or something.”

“Sexist dick,” Scootaloo said.

“In a case of the solidarity of testicles, I must say that you should move on to the plan.” Wiz Kid turned away from the laptop. “If you plan to bust her out, maybe you’ll need the plans of the hospital?”

“Yes, please,” Sunset muttered. “And I certainly don’t have a habit of making people I don’t like crazy.”

“You don’t like Twilight, then?” Scootaloo asked.

“I most certainly didn’t say that,” Sunset replied. “I like this little piece of issues and it’s most certainly not my fault that–”

Flash cleared his throat. “From what I’ve heard, it is kinda your fault. And Scootaloo’s.”

“No one asked for your opinion, you unnecessary addition to a dick.”

“Now that was sexist.” Wiz Kid shrugged and banged on the keys of his laptop. “So, I got you the plans of the hospital, the schedule of its staff, and I now have a direct access to electrical grid in their area. I can switch off all the lights, if you want, but only for about a minute before the emergency generators kick in.” He smirked. “Normally, I charge a thousand dollars for that, but as for you, I can get down to seven hundred.”

“What if we don’t pay?” Trixie asked.

“Scribble!” Wiz Kid exclaimed. Trixie noticed that the redhead disappeared from the room a while ago.

“Yes?” Scribble Dee opened the door, carrying a machete and a hacksaw. “Ah, they don’t want to pay.” She pointed the machete at Flash. “So, we’ll start with castrating this guy, okay?”

“We can hold him for you,” Sunset said.

“I wonder if there’s anyone in this town who doesn’t have murderous tendencies,” Scootaloo muttered.

“Fat chance,” Trixie said.

“Funny it’s you who say that.” Scootaloo chuckled. Suddenly, she found herself tackled by Scribble Dee, with the machete dangerously close to her throat.

“Altering the deal now, huh?” Sunset shook her head.

“Pray she doesn’t alter it any further,” Flash replied. “Okay, I have twenty dollars. How about you?”

“You’d better have money,” Scribble Dee muttered, making the biggest puppy eyes she could muster. “Because I never ever killed anyone in my life and I’m not sure if I could, and I’d rather not try. Especially not with Scootaloo…”

“Umm… thanks?” Scootaloo muttered. “I think I should have a hundred or so. If you let me use my phone, I can pay you digitally.”

“Not necessary,” Trixie said. “Trixie magicked someone’s wallet on her way here.” She produced a wallet from her pocket. “Let’s see… a condom, about five dollars, a photo of some faggot…”

“That’s my wallet,” Wiz Kid muttered, blushing. “And Curly Winds is my friend.”

“So, I’ll better pay,” Scootaloo said, producing her phone. “You all owe me.”

After all the formalities, they sat at the table with the printed plan of the hospital in front of them, while Wiz Kid brought them some late-night snack. In this case it was olives, baguettes, pickled cucumbers, and several kinds of cheese and lunch meat.

“Thanks for the meat,” Sunset muttered, grabbing a baguette. “Some of my best friends were cows.”

“Some of my friends are pigs, but I don’t care,” Scootaloo muttered, grabbing a slice of salami. “Hmm, is it made of horse?”

“I’d rather refrain from answering,” Wiz Kid said, seeing the look on Sunset’s face. “So, how are you going to get in there?”

“Dunno,” Flash replied. “How about the air vents?”

“It says here that they’re three hundred milimetres wide and just as tall,” Sunset replied.

“So, Trixie won’t push her ass through it.” Scootaloo chuckled.

“It’s about a foot wide,” Sunset replied. “I knew guys who wouldn’t manage to fit their dicks in there.”

Flash and Wiz Kid looked at their crotches, then at each other, both of them shuddering.

Sunset rolled her eyes. “Come on guys… I meant back in Equestria.”

Flash and Wiz Kid sighed with relief.

“Forget the vents,” Trixie said. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has a better idea…”

Author's Note

Twilight's diagnosis is described in ICD-10 codes. There's one for everything, from A09 (diarrhea) to V95.42XA

Also, apparently Sour Sweet was at first supposed to be tickled by Sonata, but watching Star Wars Holiday Special on repeat was more cruel (the Skype logs also mention "Ramsay Bolton treatment").

We Didn't Start The Fire

Contrary to a popular belief, Vinyl Scratch wasn’t spending her entire day hanging out in front of the store. She also performed at a couple of local clubs and, when she felt like it, she was crashing the weddings just to get to the buffet. Currently, however, she was sleeping in her bedroom, surrounded by things such as empty bottles, pizza boxes, traffic cones, musical instruments, speakers, amplifiers, and half-finished androids.

It was almost midday, but Vinyl didn’t care. Usually, she’d only wake up when the need to pee would overcome the force of gravity tying her to the bed, and no such thing had happened yet. However, she opened her eyes, only to realise that the window was open, she was lying naked on her bed, and no one came at night to replace her with a changeling. Unless, of course, she herself was a changeling.

After a while of staring at the ceiling, Vinyl decided to make some use of waking up at such an early hour. She reached for her laptop and turned it on. After a while of searching the web, she finally found something interesting and started to watch it.

She was barely in, when she heard her phone. A text message, which meant some friendly soul. All of Vinyl’s friends learned long ago that calling her would be a waste of time.

Vinyl paused the video and grabbed the phone. She smirked – it was a message from Octavia.

Hello, luv <3 What r u doin?

It didn’t take long for Vinyl to write a reply.

Whacking off to three schoolgirls in the forest. Two are pregnant and the third has a dick. You?

She put the phone back on the nightstand and took a look at the video, rubbing her slit with her fingers. Honesty was always the best policy. Usually, after such an information, Octavia would stop texting her for at least half of the day.

However, this was not the case today. The schoolgirls barely got out of their uniforms, when Vinyl heard another signal telling her that her phone wouldn’t let her get laid. Sighing, she grabbed it.

This time, it wasn’t Octavia. Lemon Zest, a girl from Crystal Prep who Vinyl met during the Friendship Games, apparently decided to send her a cryptic message.

Check out the news.

Vinyl had always wondered how people in the movies could, after receiving such a message, not only find the right channel, but also hear the news from the beginning to an end. However, she couldn’t check that out, as her TV flew out of the window during one of the parties, and she never felt like replacing it. So instead, she just opened a new tab and typed the address of the first news site that came to her mind.

Never before had Vinyl put her sunglasses on so quickly, just to lower them in disbelief.

Trixie got up from the table and looked at the plan once again. Everyone looked at her, but she just produced her phone. “Trixie has to call someone first…”

Sophisticata Purity Mad’ness Freiin von Rosencrantz ab und zu Guildenstern was actually born to Mr. and Ms. Johnson, but she wouldn’t let such a plebeian name overshadow her artistic image. She also wouldn’t let anyone see her in a disheveled state, even at five o’clock in the morning.

When Trixie called her, she darted out of her bed, had a shower, got dressed, applied her make-up, and even managed to grab a cup of coffee before Trixie and her bizarre bunch of friends appeared in front of her house.

Sophisticata’s friendship with Trixie dated back to a particular avant-garde musical adaptation of The Scottish Play, where Trixie, Fuchsia Blush, and Lavender Lace played the three witches. Trixie’s acting career then continued with some critically-appraised roles, like Gertrude in Hamlet, and Nurse in Romeo and Juliet. Sophisticata was currently writing a musical that’d definitely get them both to Broadway.

Now, however, she stood at her porch, watching Trixie’s beaten-down car stopping by the pavement. Trixie walked out of it, accompanied by, as far as Sophisticata remembered, Laertes from Hamlet, one of the gravediggers from the same play, and a female Estragon from her genderbent adaptation of Waiting for Godot. Or, in other words, Flash Sentry, Scootaloo, and Sunset Shimmer.

Sophisticata knew almost all of her former classmates by name. After all, almost every single of them played at least a small part in one of the plays. If only to get a better grade.

“Blessed be those who visit this house,” Sophisticata said, bowing slightly. “What do you need, Beatrix?”

“Hello, Sophie,” Trixie muttered, pulling Sunset closer towards Sophisticata. “Well, for starters, this here girl needs to seem insane.”

Sophisticata looked at Sunset, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows. Then she clicked her tongue and clapped her hands. “What exactly do you need? A classic madwoman in the attic, blood-drenched psycho with an axe, thin existentialist in black clothes who sings sad songs in French or something else entirely?”

“Nothing over the top,” Trixie replied. “Just a girl in white clothes, looking forward to embrace death or something. May be a tad of the littlest leukemia patient, but her hair must stay.”

“The fuck am I getting myself into?” Sunset shuddered as Sophisticata pulled her into an embrace. There was a reason she kept avoiding this household during her panty raids. Those slightly conservative classic briefs made of dark silk were just not worth the risk of getting caught and being molested with Christian communism, Roland Topor, Michel Houellebecq, and whatever was going on in Sophisticata’s mind at the time. Not to mention that Sophisticata was taller than her and, as Flash had learned, a quite skilled fencer.

“Meanwhile, I have to look rich,” Trixie said.

Sophisticata nodded. “Old money or rich cunt with too much free time?”

“The latter.” Trixie pointed at Flash and Scootaloo. “As for them… Something that’d make them invisible. Maybe cable guys, or delivery guys, or something like that.”

Sophisticata looked at Flash and Scootaloo. Especially at Flash. “Are you sure you don’t want a sweaty construction worker?”

“I’m not a sex object,” Flash muttered.

“I, on the other hand…” Scootaloo chuckled. “Dude, I can be your object all day long…”

“Blasphemy…” Sophisticata muttered.

“It’s okay to be gay,” Scootaloo replied. “Also, didn’t I walk in on you and Drama Bait during the rehearsal?”

“Her name is Drama Letter!” Sophisticata exclaimed, her cheeks reddening. “And we were, umm… practising for Romeo and Juliet…”

“That’s strange because we played Hamlet.” Scootaloo smirked. “Alas, poor Yorick! Well, not so poor anymore, since he witnessed that…”

“Enough!” Trixie exclaimed. “Let’s get inside. Remember about the plan…”

Nurse Sweetheart was in her early thirties, which meant that she worked for long enough to become jaded and the retirement was still centuries away, which made the situation even worse. She had two children, a mortgage, and a cat named Mr. Death. She’d recently left her job at the ER and started working in the psychiatric clinic. Somehow, the patients were much less insane there.

Unlike some visitors. Sweetheart was just sitting at the reception desk, when she saw two people in idiotic red uniforms carrying a big box. They struggled to get through the door with it, which was not surprising, given that the girl was much shorter than the guy, and thus the box kept slipping from their hands.

Sweetheart looked at the girl, wondering why the delivery guys, waiters, and other people doing crappy jobs were getting younger with every year. She stopped wondering when the package nearly fell to the ground, prompting the girl to call her companion a “motherfucking cuntnugget” and complain about the contents of the box being “heavy as a fat rotten horse carcass”.

Eventually, the duo reached the counter and put the box on the floor, where Sweetheart couldn’t see it. The blue-haired delivery man rested his hands on the counter and smiled at her.

“Good morning,” he said. “We have a package for Dr. Briefcase.”

“Nutcase,” the girl muttered.

The delivery guy smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, Nutcase. Can we go to him?”

Nurse Sweetheart shook her head. “I’ll call him and ask him to come here.”

“We’re in a bit of hurry,” the girl said. “We’ll just find him quickly and leave.”

“Antiterrorism regulations,” Sweetheart replied. “We can’t just let in two morons with a big, heavy package, you know. As far as I know, you could carry a bomb in there.”

The guy in front of her rolled his eyes. “If we were terrorists, we’d blow ourselves up in some, umm, more crowded place, like a metro station, a kindergarten…”

“Or maybe that’s the new strategy?” the girl asked. “We blow up hospitals now! You’re not safe anywhere!”

The guy sighed and covered his face with his hands. “Goddamit, Scootaloo… You’re not helping.”

Sweetheart was about to kick them both out when someone burst in through the door. Sweetheart looked at the new visitor and saw a chubby, blue girl wearing flashy yoga pants. Her hair was tied in two pigtails, and her hands were covered in a lot of jewellery. She was constantly chewing gum.

“Hello,” she said, sitting on the counter, next to the baffled delivery guys. “Like, my bestie ended up in this shithole, and like, she’s all out of heroin, gag me with a spoon! She must be starving! Can I go to her so we can fly away together?”

There were times when Sweetheart was polite to anyone coming to her. This was, however, not one of them. “Can you, like, go and eat shit or something?” she asked.

“I tried,” the girl replied, kicking the cardboard box. “That’s, like, so overrated!”

“Hey!” the delivery guy exclaimed. “That’s an expensive thing, you know!”

They started yelling at each other. Sweetheart could swear that she heard the sound of ripping cardboard, but it drowned in something that was most likely a gunshot.

She turned towards the staircase and saw Sunset Shimmer, dressed in her hospital gown, holding a smoking gun in her hand. “What are you doing here?” she asked automatically.

“Running away?” Sunset smirked. “I don’t know!” She fired the gun at the girl with yoga pants.

“O, I am slain!” the girl screamed and fell to the floor. Sweetheart darted under her desk, but no gunshots followed. It took her a while to realise that, instead of running to the door, Sunset rushed upstairs; and that two delivery guys ran with her.

Sweetheart got up and grabbed the phone. “Alarm!” she shouted into the receiver. “Sunset Shimmer is running away! Or going back to her room… Fuck me if I know, she’s armed and dangerous! And she has delivery guys with her!” She threw the receiver away and pushed the button blocking the door. She then jumped over the counter to check on the shot girl.

“You okay there?” Sweetheart asked.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie has to go!” For someone who just got shot, the chubby girl was rather fast. She already got up and ran into the glass door. It didn’t open, of course, but her speed and mass gave her enough momentum to pierce through the glass and fall down the stairs on the other side.

“My question still stands,” Sweetheart deadpanned, watching as the girl got up and ran away.

Sunset ran down the corridor, the wailing of alarm sirens piercing her ears. She threw the fake gun away and sped up. Red lights were flashing. It seemed that everyone and their mother was now out to get them.

“There!” Sunset exclaimed, hiding in some storage room. Flash and Scootaloo followed her, locking the door. “Flash?”

“Yes?” Flash asked, taking his red hat off.

“You’re a delivery guy like goat’s ass is a trumpet,” Sunset muttered.

“You mean, a bagpipe?” Scootaloo asked.

Instead of a reply, Sunset punched Scootaloo in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. As Scootaloo bent forward, Sunset hit her in the jaw with her elbow, forcing her back up.

“Fat rotten horse carcass…” Sunset muttered. “Your mother was a fat rotten horse carcass…”

Flash shook his head. “Chill out and think of the plan. We didn’t bring you here in a box, Trixie started with the plan B… What are we gonna do now?”

“Your clothes are the most memorable part of you two,” Sunset replied, watching Scootaloo wiping blood from her nose with her t-shirt. “They must have some scrubs or whatever doctors are wearing here.” She looked around the room and saw some green clothes.

“You have to hide your hair,” Scootaloo said. “They’re after you. Or your other self.”

“True.” Sunset took her hospital gown off, sending Flash into a sudden fit of coughing. She then put on the green clothes, complete with a surgical cap. Scootaloo did the same; only Flash waited, still in the red clothes Sophisticata had given him.

“What?” Sunset asked. “If you have a boner, don’t worry. We won’t notice anyway.”

“It’s not that,” Flash replied, showing a blouse to them. “Why are all the male clothes so big?”

“Who gives a damn?” Sunset asked. “Put some on and let’s get moving.”

After a while of trying to fit the clothes, they finally got out of the storage room and rushed down the corridor. The alarms sounded much quieter now, but Sunset decided to stir up the situation more.

“Watch out!” she cried, seeing several nurses running towards her. “They have guns!”

“Where’s Sunset?” one of the nurses asked.

“Somewhere there!” Scootaloo pointed at the direction they came from. “And watch out for that girl who pretends to be a delivery guy. She knows some sick moves, dude.”

As the nurses rushed to look for Sunset, the trio walked to the room 101.

“Weird that they didn’t look here in the first place,” Flash said. “They should check if human Sunset is there.”

“Good for us,” Sunset said, opening the door. “Now, let’s get Sci-Twi and hope Trixie is waiting in the car.”

Seeing them, Twilight got up from her bed and backpedalled towards the wall.

“Don’t worry.” Sunset removed the surgical cap. “It’s us.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. Sunset opened her mouth to tell her not to worry, but then she saw that Twilight wasn’t looking at her. She followed her gaze to see nothing but the mirror. Or at least she thought so, until her reflection spoke.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” The other Sunset smirked.

Sunset reacted quickly. She threw a punch at her human self, but she managed to block it without effort. Sunset countered with a left hook, but the other Sunset dodged it and tackled her to the ground, trying to bite her in the ear.

“Come with us,” Flash said to Twilight, hopping over the fighting Sunset.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Twilight replied. “I like this place.”

“I’m gonna kill you, skin you, cook, and eat you!” one of the Sunset screamed at the other.

“This place will soon stop existing!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “Fish people are gonna rip us all a new one!”

“Not my ear, you bitch!” Sunset shouted. It was hard to tell which one.

“Blow me, cunt!”

“Well, I can do just that!” The Sunset on the top attempted an attack on her opponent’s crotch.

“Fish people?” Twilight shuddered. “You’re lying!” She tried to grab the TV and throw it at Flash, but fortunately, it was bolted to the wall. It had to be – it was only broadcasting infomercials and lots of patients were trying to throw it at someone.

“Lots of them,” Flash said. “Wandering across the town.”

“Eating people and shit.” Scootaloo nodded.

“Oh damn…” Twilight lowered her hands. “The book!”

“What book?” Flash dodged the Sunsets; one of them was currently trying to snap the other’s neck.

“Dunno, it was in German, but it could be full of black magic!” Twilight exclaimed.

“Yeah, that often happens to German books,” Scootaloo said. “Sweetie read one and then she burned juice.”

“Don’t you think we should discuss that somewhere else?” Flash asked. Behind him, Sunset Shimmer wearing the remains of a green doctor’s outfit stood up, the Sunset in hospital clothes still trying to bite her calves.

Scootaloo and Twilight nodded, and they all rushed out of the room, the other Sunset following them.

“Where are you going?” Flash asked.

“I’m not that crazy,” she replied. “I’m going with you…” She turned to the other Sunset. “But once we’re out of the hospital…” She moved her finger across her throat.

“We’d better lose her,” Sunset muttered and ran down the corridor. The rest followed her, running downstairs and finding themselves in the laundry room. They could hear the sound of steps of many people outside, running in all the directions.

“Let’s split up,” Sunset said. “Two Sunsets at once won’t confuse them as much as Sunset that keeps popping up in two places at once. Flash, Twilight, stay with me.” She turned to Scootaloo. “You and Sunset, go back upstairs, find another staircase and make as much noise as you can do on the way.”

Scootaloo saluted. “Sure thing. Trixie gave me some smoke bombs. Time to make use of them.”

The other Sunset raised her hand. “May I ask you why it is me who has to go away?” she asked. “I have a feeling that you’re trying to screw me over again.”

“You have a bigger chance to sneak out when there’s two of you,” Sunset replied. “Also, Scootaloo is a master escape artist.”

Scootaloo stood in attention. “I can run like hell!”

Someone knocked on the door. “Anyone there? Open the door!”

Without a word, they ran to the door. Flash opened it and Scootaloo threw a smoke bomb outside. Someone started to cough while Sunset pushed them back and ran down the corridor. Twilight and Flash followed her, dodging the nurses.

It soon turned out why all the clothes were too big for Flash. Most of the male nurses were built like footballers – nothing unnatural in a place where some of the patients could turn ballistic. Flash barely escaped the hands of a guy whose head was almost touching the ceiling; he dropped on the ground and rolled on the floor, before getting back to his feet and running to the stairs.

The fire sensors wailed when the smoke reached them. Soon, the whole corridor was sprayed with water. Seeing the approaching nurses, Sunset opened the first door she saw and found herself in a room with someone wearing a bicorne.

“Hello,” Sunset said. “Napoleon, I guess?”

The man in a bicorne turned to her. “Never interrupt your enemy when he’s making a mistake.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m doing.” Sunset shrugged and walked out of the room.

The corridor was empty. Water stopped flowing from the ceiling, but the floor was still wet and Sunset could smell smoke in the air. One of the lamps was flickering.

Sunset shrugged and walked down the corridor. Suddenly, she saw someone rushing from behind the corner and standing in her way. When Sunset looked at the person, she couldn’t help but smirk.

The girl didn’t look like a nurse; more like a kid dressed as a nurse. She had knee-long black boots, a white uniform (also knee-long), and a cap sitting on a top of bushy, brown hair. She was no taller than Scootaloo and probably in a similar age.

“Stop right there!” the nurse screamed in a high-pitched voice.

“Or what?” Sunset asked. “You’ll bite my knees off?”

Suddenly, Sunset saw a black boot right in front of her face. She jumped back as the nurse landed on the floor after a roundhouse kick, her knees slightly bent. She smiled at Sunset, stretching her right hand towards her and moved her fingers, inviting her to join the fight.

“You’re asking for it yourself,” Sunset muttered, taking a look at the nurse. She was smaller and lighter, but her boots could definitely mess Sunset up.

The nurse took a step forward. Sunset charged to close the distance. She saw that the nurse was about to try to kick her again, so she moved to the side and grabbed her leg, throwing her off course. The nurse didn’t care; she jumped on one leg and spun, sliding out of Sunset’s grip.

Sunset could take a long look at the shorts the nurse was wearing under her skirt, but the thought that they’d make a good trophy occurred to her only after the boot contacted with the side of her head, causing the world to spin around her as she fell on the ground.

Sunset had to admit that the nurse knew her weak and strong sides. Instead of opting for ground fighting, where Sunset’s weight and strength would be an advantage, she attempted to step on Sunset’s thighs. Sunset rolled on the floor away from her; she knew that with internal haemorrhage in thigh muscles, she wouldn’t get up for a while. Her vision still wasn’t working properly, but as the nurse went closer and tried to jump on her legs, she did the only thing she could think of: she rolled behind the nurse and, as she landed on the ground, kicked her in the backs of the knees.

As Sunset was barefoot, it didn’t as much hurt the nurse as it surprised her. However, she dropped on her knees and Sunset, letting out a powerful scream, tackled her from behind. She slowly rose, holding the kicking nurse in a chokehold. Her head still hurt; she could recall that this particular kind of strangling came from her judo classes, but couldn’t remember its name.

“Hadaka-jime,” the nurse whispered. She tried to headbutt Sunset, but her hair cushioned most of the impact.

“What?” Sunset asked.

“It’s called hadaka-jime.” The nurse punched Sunset in the nose, causing her eyes to fill with tears and her grasp to weaken. Then she leaned forward, trying to throw Sunset over her arm. “Judo doesn’t allow punches, but it’s not judo we’re doing.”

“Indeed.” Sunset let go off the nurse’s neck, sliding off her back. The nurse, realising that she still had Sunset behind her, tried to spin. Unfortunately for her, her only benefit was that what Sunset intended to be a rabbit punch, landed on her temple, throwing her on the wall in a hunched position – just right for her nose to meet with Sunset’s knee.

“There you go,” Sunset muttered, when the nurse fell to the ground. For a moment she thought about kicking her in the crotch and the solar plexus just in case she wanted to get up. Then she started to wonder how to pull down her shorts without having to untie and take off her boots first.

“Nursery?” someone called in a deep voice. “I got Sunset Shimmer!”

Sunset raised her head and looked at the other side of the corridor. She didn’t feel like being gotten by anyone, but when she saw a tall man with a red beard who looked like a Norwegian lumberjack in a white outfit, holding her human counterpart as if she was a ragdoll, she thought that it was better to run away. She tried to do just that, but then, the nurse came back to life just in time to grab her leg and bite her in the calf.

“You little–” Suddenly, something heavy hit Sunset, throwing her on the floor. Before her skull contacted with the tiles, finally knocking her down, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the sudden realisation.

The guy threw her human counterpart at her.

Panting, Flash reached the door of the garage and kicked it open. It seemed that they lost most of the hospital staff after something blew up on the second floor, causing all the lights to go off. After a while of wandering around, he and Twilight found a narrow, cluttered staircase leading to the garage with several ambulances. Twilight immediately grabbed an oil-stained denim jacket of some mechanic and put it on before following Flash outside.

“Where’s the rest?” Twilight asked.

“No idea,” Flash replied, walking across the car park, filled with SUVs and occasional sport cars, probably belong to elite doctors. “Do you think we can steal one of those?”

“Flash!” Twilight exclaimed. “You should think about your friends first.”

“Since I met them, I got high, beaten by an insane policewoman, ended up in prison, got a crappy tattoo… I also met a bisexual hacker and Shakespeare wannabe.” Flash shrugged. “Don’t you think we should take a few days off and spend a weekend on the beach before they find us?”

“No, thanks,” Twilight replied. “On a side note, if you wanted to get me out of here, you could’ve asked. It’s not like they held me hostage or anything.”

“Damn!” Flash groaned. “All because of Sunset and her Messiah complex. Also, I just realised I may have gotten an STD from Scootaloo.”

Twilight sighed. “If you wanted to pick me up, you just whacked your last chance over the head with a shovel and–” Her eyes widened. “Damn. I may have gotten an STD from her too.”

Suddenly, they heard the sound of shattering glass and a car alarm waking up everyone within a mile radius. They turned to the source of the sound to see Scootaloo lying on the roof of one of the cars.

Flash nodded. “Turns out she couldn’t fly…”

“Did she die?” Twilight asked.

“Nah, that’d be too much luck,” Flash muttered.

Scootaloo stood up and jumped off the car. Then she looked up at the doctors staring at her from the window and saluted them with her middle finger. “Volvo. The safest car in the world,” she said, poking the car and turning to Flash and Twilight. “What are you looking at? Run!”

“Where’s Sunset?” Twilight asked as they rushed forward, into the forest surrounding the hospital.

“Killed in action, I guess.” Scootaloo shrugged.

“Where’s the other Sunset?” Flash asked.

Scootaloo sighed. “Caught the last train for the coast.”

In the distance, they heard sirens of the ambulances and screeching of the tyres. They started to run faster, jumping over small bushes and dodging the low-hanging branches. The road was somewhere in front of them, peeking from behind the trees. Flash groaned – he wasn’t used to running, but he got across the forest gritting his teeth.

“So, what now?” Twilight asked, stopping by the side of the road. “Do you have any plan?”

Flash chuckled. “Well…”

“No plan, no fucking around, no worries,” Scootaloo said. “That’s what my father said when he forgot to pull out.”

“Thank you for this piece of infinite wisdom,” Flash muttered. “I guess we’ll have to hitch a ride.”

“The first car to get here will be an ambulance,” Twilight replied. “And we’ll get back to the hospital.”

Flash shrugged. “I take that into account. But I think it’s gonna be something else entirely.” He pointed at the blue VW Beetle driving towards them.

Trixie at least didn’t ask for Sunset. “Let me guess,” she said when they sat in the car. “Sunset is currently in hell and will be back when she makes Satan her bitch?”

“More or less,” Scootaloo replied. “Where are we going?”

“We need to lose the chase,” Flash said, turning back to look at the cars following them.

“Then we’ll go to my house.” Twilight yanked her hair. “I’ll take a look at the book and see what we can do about the fish people.”

Vinyl lit up a cigarette and rested herself against the fence. Her car was parked behind her, at the boulevard. She had quite a good view at the sea from there.

When she read that a news presenter on TV got mind-controlled into telling the public about the intentions of the fish people, she thought it was just an elaborate prank. The video looked quite real though, but Vinyl saw better fake news before.

I am the voice of The Fish Nation. Soon, The Mother of All the Fish People will come out of the sea and her children will flood this land. Give up and stay in your homes and most of you will not suffer for long. Those who find worthy will be assimilated and they shall serve us as we start the new order–

After that, Vinyl turned her laptop off and went to the toilet to make a sacrifice for the fish people. With the amount of spicy food she’d eaten the day before, she hoped they’d choke on her gift. When she was done, she decided to take a shower, put some clothes on, and go to the town to see what was going on.

Only when she saw tanks and helicopters on her way across the town, she realised that at least some people believed in the news. Vinyl wasn’t sure who said that thing about people believing a lie told enough times, but she thought the dude was totally right.

On her way, she happened to pick up Octavia, who was also going to the seaside. There, by the fence, they met Sophisticata, who used to work with Octavia on some musical. Or maybe an opera. Vinyl didn’t exactly know. She knew, however, that her attitude towards Sophisticata was at best a mild tolerance.

For starters, Sophisticata asked Vinyl if she could borrow a cigarette. Vinyl gave her one, but she remembered that fact exactly and hid it in the darkest corner of her mind with an intention to use it in the future. Then it turned out that Sophisticata really enjoyed her own voice.

“Those guys there… Are they suicidal?” Sophisticata pointed at the small group standing on the beach, holding a transparent saying, “Fish People are People Too!”. Vinyl recognised them as the people who called themselves Eco Kids, didn’t eat meat, and had the best weed in town. Some of them were missing. Vinyl heard that Sandalwood was in a hospital after an unfortunate accident with a duct tape, and Starlight was wanted because of being involved in a shootout.

“What do you mean?” Octavia asked.

Sophisticata rolled her eyes. “Fish people eat humans and control the minds of innocent newscasters. They already said they’re gonna take over, assimilate, and do the unspeakable to us once the Mother of All the Fish People shows up. And yet, we have a bunch of idealistic morons, who want to give them rights, thinking that peaceful coexistence is possible. Just how dumb is that?” She groaned in a way suggesting that she practiced groaning with a dictaphone. “21st century… I swear, if we had a zombie invasion, there’d be zombie rights activists who’d say that eating brains is a cultural thing…”

Vinyl shook her head and blew smoke from her cigarette out. “Are you afraid those guys will mistake you for a fish person and shoot you because you’re green?” she asked, pointing at the tanks and rocket artillery behind them.

Sophisticata’s eyes widened; her jaw dropped. “You can talk?”

Vinyl smirked and shrugged, shaking the ash off her cigarette.

“Well, I can also make her scream,” Octavia said. “Though one usually needs big things to do that. And I think she already did that herself today.”

“Big things?” Sophisticata pointed at the surface of the sea. “You mean, something like this?”

“Bloody hell,” Octavia muttered.

Author's Note

Contrary to what Sophisticata may tell you, the name of female Hamlets in the history of theatre is Legion. Also, it's a shame that the only work of Roland Topor known to the English-speaking world is The Tenant. Four Roses for Lucienne is a masterpiece of dark humour, but I didn't find any mentions of it being translated to English.
Oh, and Sophisticata wanted to play Le Bébé de Monsieur Laurent back in CHS, but Principal Celestia informed her that a school play about a baby being nailed to the door probably wouldn't be approved by the viewers.

Jesus Built My Hotrod

Those who had chosen to drive the motorway around the town, were up to seeing quite an interesting sight. A small, rusty-blue Volkswagen darted out of the woods, nearly causing a truck to crash into it, and swerved between the lanes, its tyres screeching like a thousand bats. A few seconds later, several ambulances, accompanied by a red Alfa Romeo followed the Volkswagen at the full speed. Sirens wailed, cars rapidly driving aside to make place for the column of white vans.

Scootaloo’s face was almost glued to the rear window as she watched all the cars chasing them. Her smile widened. “They’re so gonna fuck us…”

“Couldn’t you get something a little faster?” Twilight asked. “When I saw that car, I almost wanted to quote Princess Leia…”

“I know,” Flash muttered.

“No, not this one.” Twilight blushed.

Scootaloo chuckled, poking Flash. “Though seeing you frozen in carbonite would probably appeal to masses, dude. And never ever have kids. Just sayin’.”

Flash sighed. “I meant that I know about the car, but mine is currently out of order.”

“Worry not.” Trixie turned sharply, overtaking a row of cars, including a convertible full of cool kids and a police car. “Trixie wouldn’t be Trixie if she didn’t think of something.” She pushed a button on the dashboard.

“Whoa!” Scootaloo watched as the view behind them got obscured by thick layer of smoke. Soon, one of the ambulances emerged from it, swerving to hit into the barrier and collapse on its side. They heard the siren of the police car and saw it chasing them. The cool kids also decided that being taken over by a car older than their parents also wasn’t cool, and gave chase.

“What now?” Twilight asked. The Alfa Romeo overtook the ambulances, and only a few cars separated the doctor in an Italian car from them. “Do you have rockets?”

“They didn’t fit,” Trixie replied. “I can use a flamethrower or spikes if it gets close.”

“Won’t be necessary,” Flash said, watching the car. “It’s Alfa. They tend to break at the least convenient moment.”

“That’s bad,” Trixie muttered. “If it broke now, it’d be the most convenient moment.”

Suddenly, the smoke started coming from under the Alfa Romeo’s hood. The car slowed down, soon overtaken by the police car and the convertible.

“Seems like a shpadoinkle failure,” Scootaloo muttered.

“That’s not a car part,” Flash said.

“No kidding, dude.” Scootaloo turned to him and smirked. “I know cars. Shpadoinkle gets bamboozled and then you have to change all the valves.”

“You mean a camshaft?” Flash asked.

“I’ve never gotten any shaft on cam, but I should try.” Scootaloo chuckled. She stopped when the car suddenly swerved to the left, barely avoiding crashing into the barrier separating two lanes.

“Can you stop talking when we’re being chased?” Trixie cried, turning the steering wheel to avoid the ambulance ramming into them.

“To the left!” Twilight screamed. Trixie turned left, through the break in the barrier, allowing the cars to turn towards the town. The car drifted, skidding to the side and stopping in the middle of the lane.

“Is everybody okay?” Trixie asked. Suddenly, she heard the horn of some car and turned her head to see the front a giant truck approaching them much faster than she found comfortable. “Oh fu–”

There were two things Rainbow Dash really liked: fast cars and a good fight. No wonder that once she heard about the fish people taking over, she jumped into her cool, pimped-out Honda Civic, and drove around to grab her friends. Unfortunately for her, Applejack was with Apple Bloom, Rarity apparently moved to London, Twilight and Sunset were nowhere to be seen, Pinkie Pie was out with her sisters, and while Fluttershy was already on the beach, it turned out that she was taking part in the demonstration against the discrimination of fish people.

What was worse, as Rainbow Dash was driving to the beach alone, the massive spoiler at the back of her car nearly fell off. It took her a while to reattach it with duct tape thinking that she could’ve just bought an actual sport car for all the money she put into it.

She was just trying to take over a truck, when she saw some idiot in a small blue car trying to turn left just in front of it. What was worse, the truck driver apparently had good reflexes, since he turned straight at Rainbow Dash to avoid the crash.

“Cocksucker…” Rainbow Dash whispered under her breath, pushing the accelerator to overtake the truck before it’d ram into her, changing her into a bloody pancake. The truck missed her by an inch, but then an ambulance grew in front of her. Rainbow Dash cursed, yanking the steering wheel. The Honda spun around between the cars on the other side of the road. Just as it was about to stop, a black Ford rammed into its right side.

“Shit!” Rainbow Dash heard the sound of torn metal and breaking glass. She hit the door with her arm and bounced off it, just in time to get hit with the airbag. The seatbelt pressed against her clavicle before everything stopped in silence.

Rainbow Dash blinked and looked at the black car. She opened the door and got out, limping towards it. Its right door was open and some grey girl was just trying to get out. Rainbow Dash smirked; the girl’s car looked quite expensive and if she was convincing enough, she could get money for a new ride for her.

“Listen bitch,” Rainbow Dash muttered, dragging the girl out of the car and throwing her on the hood. “You’ve destroyed my car and this is not something I take lightly. You’d better pay me, or–”

Something clicked. Rainbow Dash felt something metallic pressing against her temple. She let go off the girl and looked to her right to see a pink teenager holding a gun almost bigger than her. It suddenly occurred to her that she knew both girls from her school.

“Diamond Tiara?” she asked, backpedalling. She thought that she should’ve taken a gun with her – usually she thought they were for wimps who couldn’t kill anyone with their bare hands, but she did have a little pink revolver Pinkie bought her.

“Yes,” Diamond Tiara replied. “And it seems to me that you wanted something from my friend.”

“Me?” Rainbow Dash asked, smiling sheepishly. “No, never… Why would I?”

“Get in the trunk.”

Rainbow Dash looked around, but none of the other drivers seemed to be interested in the accident. “What if I don’t?”

“Last person I shot had her brain all over the place,” Diamond Tiara replied while Silver Spoon opened the trunk. Rainbow Dash looked inside and stopped in her tracks. This moment of hesitation was enough for Diamond Tiara to smack her in the back of the head with a gun. Rainbow Dash fell into the trunk like a sack of potatoes. Silver closed it and the duo sat in the car.

“You shouldn’t just threaten anyone with a gun like that,” Silver Spoon muttered when they reversed. “Someone may find it a little rude.”

“She threatened you first,” Diamond Tiara replied. “By the way, what is with people trying to beat you up?”

“It may be my outstanding personality,” Silver Spoon deadpanned. “By the way, what are we gonna do with her? And where are we going?”

“Back to the flat,” Diamond Tiara replied. “It’s the last place someone will look for us…”

“How did you even get caught?” one Sunset said to another.

“I asked that orange idiot if she knew the way out, but she just screamed ‘yolo’ and threw a lot of smoke bombs.”

The diminutive nurse paced back and forth in her office, listening to her prisoners and occasionally smacking herself in the butt with a riding crop. Eventually she stopped in front of the fireplace and turned towards the couch.

“Okay,” she muttered, hitting the riding crop against her thigh. “Which of you is our Sunset?”

“Her,” both Sunsets said at once, pointing at each other.

“You’re not helping,” one of the Sunsets muttered to another.

“Well, given that you’re their Sunset, I’d say you’re rather unhelpful,” the other Sunset replied.

The first Sunset smirked. “Prove it.”

“Would someone who was in the hospital for years be able to do this?” The second Sunset pointed at the bruises around the nurse’s neck.

“That could as well be me.”

“We wear different clothes.”

“We could’ve switched.”

“When?” Sunset groaned. “I go to the gym three times a week and the only meat I eat is chicken since they’re also dumb in–”

“Aha!” the other Sunset exclaimed. “You wanted to say ‘in my world’! She’s a pony! Twilight told me everything!”

“So, you’re the one who was living with Twilight, right?” the nurse asked.

“Yes!” Sunset suddenly froze before standing up and going to the nurse. “That is, no! Err… Of course I’m her!”

“We see,” the other Sunset muttered. “Can you tell me any popular song from the last year? I doesn’t seem like you’re to date with modern trends here…”

“That won’t be necessary.” The nurse smirked. “She’s most definitely our patient and you… Let’s say that I’m rather interested in what she’s saying…” She produced a lancet from the pocket of her skirt.

Sunset leaned back, watching as her human counterpart suddenly turns, holding a potted plant in her hands. The nurse spun, but then the pot hit her head, smashing into a million pieces. Sunset stood up and pushed the nurse towards the fireplace. The nurse, however, managed to recover and raised her lancet, aiming it at Sunset.

Sunset jumped back. At the same time, the other Sunset grabbed the nurse’s arm, trying to tackle her to the floor. Sunset charged forward to help her. She decided it was the time to end with chivalry; she unceremoniously kicked the nurse in the crotch and finished her off with a punch to the solar plexus.

“Grab the keys.” The other Sunset put the nurse on the couch and took her lancet and riding crop with her. “Let’s lock her here and get out.”

Sunset nodded. A few minutes later, they were walking down the empty corridor, filled only with calls of the patients.

“Where’s everybody?” Sunset asked.

“No idea.” The other Sunset shrugged. “I’m more bothered by the fact that you stole her shorts.”

Sunset blushed and instead of replying walked to the elevator. At least it still worked and after a while, they both were on the ground floor. It seemed that everyone left the place in haste; there were pens, slippers, nurse hats, and other equipment scattered around on the floor. The traces of tyres outside looked like at least a few cars had driven off.

“The garage’s empty,” the second Sunset said. She got rid of her torn sleeping gown and was now wearing orange clothes of a paramedic. “So much for driving an ambulance.”

“Don’t worry.” Sunset raised the nurse’s keys. “She has her car keys here too.”

They walked outside and headed to the car park. Sunset pushed the button on the keychain and heard the sound of the alarm switching off. Her smile faltered when she saw what she was about to steal.

“What the fuck is that?” she asked, eyeing the car in front of her. “I always thought all the cars in this country were designed by a dude with some serious issues about size.”

“Small nurse, small car,” the second Sunset replied, opening the door on the passenger’s side. “Those were invented by a guy who was making watches and thought that a car can be a fashion accessory.”

“So it’s expensive as hell?” Sunset asked, sitting behind the wheel and moving her seat as far to the back as she could. It was more or less enough, though she still didn’t feel comfortable. “What if we crash into a truck?”

“The guy in a truck will turn on his windscreen wipers,” the other Sunset replied, shrugging. “Let’s go to my house before someone notices us.”

“You meant my house.” Sunset started the engine and found out that the car had a semi-automatic transmission. Having been used to motorcycles, she theoretically could drive stick, but it was hard to guess when she could barely hear the engine and had to rely on the RPM gauge.

“It was mine first.”

“But it was mine for longer.”

The second Sunset sighed. “We can share. You take the couch.”

“No, you take the couch,” Sunset replied. “Also, there are people who know I’m a pony, but in case anyone asks, you’re my twin sister. We just have to come up with some name for you.”

“Why can’t you be my twin sister?”

“Because I met some people you probably don’t know and it’d be hard to explain.” Sunset turned towards the town. The small car turned out to be funnier and easier to drive than she thought. “Also, we met pony Sunset first, and we call her human counterpart ‘Sci-Twi’, so it’s easier to tell them apart. Any ideas for your name? Psycho-Sunset, maybe?”

“Bite me,” the second Sunset replied. “I’m pretty happy with Sunset or Sunny, myself.”

“Sunny? Sunny Flare will protest, but no one cares about her,” Sunset said. “Also, I’ll still call you Fun-Sun.”

“Don’t do that,” Sunny muttered, glaring daggers at Sunset.

“What if I do?”

“Remember that I was considered mentally unstable,” Sunny replied. “I can draw a pentacle on the floor in your blood and put your entrails on the Christmas tree and I won’t go to prison.”

“Chill out,” Sunset said. “I know you and you’re not that insane.” She looked at the road in front of her. “What is going on in there?”

“Looks like an aftermath of a crash,” Sunny replied. “With fish people chasing the drivers.”

“Damn,” Sunset muttered. “Let’s hope Twilight found a way to stop them.” She smirked. “But meanwhile, we can stop them ourselves…” She pushed the accelerator and drove past the fish people, hitting one of the smaller ones with the side of the car. Two others raised their heads; they were much bigger than the first one and looked like they could crush the car with one punch.

“You pissed off the wrong guys,” Sunny muttered, watching the fish people leaving the drivers and rushing to chase them. “Though given the square-cube law, they should be slower than the smaller ones.”

“The question is, are they slower than this car?” Sunset pushed the pedal to the floor, but the only reaction was a rather pathetic roar of the small engine.

“I wouldn’t bet.” Sunny looked back. “I hope you enjoy being canned food, because that’s what’s gonna happen soon.”

Sunset looked into the mirror and when she saw the fish people coming closer, she pushed the brake. The car stopped almost immediately; fish people ran past it, trying to slow down. One of them slipped and fell, slamming its head against the ground with a loud crack.

“Square-cube law!” Sunset exclaimed, reversing the car and turning into the side street. “Their own inertia will fuck them.”

“You’re insane.” Sunny shook her head. “Are we at least going in the right direction?”

“Yes,” Sunset replied. “They redecorated a few bits on the way and added a brand new supermarket…” She looked to her right. “That is currently swarmed with fish people stealing raw meat for some reason.” She shrugged. “Let’s get home.”

A few minutes later, the car skidded to a halt by Sunset’s house. There was no trace of the fish people around, but both Sunsets preferred to be careful; they looked around before getting to the door and opening it. Then they slid inside and locked the door, barricading it with a closet.

“Home sweet home,” Sunset said, looking at the orange clothes of her human counterpart. “My clothes should fit, if you want to get something cooler…”

“This is my house,” Sunny replied. “Do you have more leather jackets? Because I don’t feel right without one.”

“Of course,” Sunset said. “I call dibs on the shotgun, though. And the motorcycle.”

“I bought that shotgun when I started seeing you.” Sunny shrugged and grabbed a loose board in the floor. She lifted it easily and reached into the stash under it. “As well as this.” She stood up, holding a kukri. “You were lucky you’ve never came close enough.”

“So, you were, like, stashing knives around the house and you wonder why they put you in the nuthouse?” Sunset shook her head and turned on the TV before walking off to grab the lever shotgun from the top shelf of her closet.

“It’s your fault. Before that I thought tubular magazine was something valley girls read.” Sunny stared at the screen.“Hey, is that Godzilla?”

“I don’t think so,” Sunset replied, watching the creature emerging from the waves. “But it surely doesn’t give a damn about the square-cube law…”

You may think it’s The War of the Worlds again, but what I’m telling is true. An enormous mass of tentacles just emerged from the ocean, followed by an army of fish people much bigger than those previously seen. It immediately smashed half of those fucking jun– I mean, the protesters. So much for tolerance. Only some of them were saved by a brave, unknown woman who pulled them into her car and drove away just before the army called the aerial support and decided to get medieval on–

The radio fell to the floor when Twilight knocked it over. She grabbed the book and looked at it – the pages were glowing sickly green.

“So that’s what they’re looking for…” Trixie grabbed a few needles from her pocket and started stuffing them into a piece of fabric.

“Why don’t we destroy it?” Flash asked. “Or does that require a trip to Iceland and throwing it into a volcano?”

“Destroying it probably wouldn’t help.” Twilight sat on her bed and skimmed the book. “Apparently once they’re invited to this world, they’ll try to take it over.”

“How do you invite them?” Flash asked.

Twilight blushed. “By, umm… sex ritual. With two partners, but at least one of which has to climax in the process.”

Trixie chuckled. “Who could perform it?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Twilight blurted out.

“Does it have some spells to make sushi out of them?” Scootaloo asked. “I haven’t eaten sushi in, like, years.”

“No, but it says that the Mother of All the Fish People is always surrounded by Seven Singers, whose singing cancels all the magic that can threaten her. And there’s a note on the margin…” Twilight blushed.

“What does it say?” Trixie asked.

“‘Fucking EMP’,” Twilight replied.

“Just great,” Flash muttered. “No spells, and we have to deal with a fifty-foot monster fitted with electronic warfare countermeasures.”

“We don’t have to do that,” Trixie said. “They’ve mentioned aerial support. Haven’t you seen King Kong?”

“King Kong couldn’t jam rockets with his singing,” Flash replied. “I depends on the reach, but unless they throw Warthogs at Mother of All the Fish People, it can’t be killed.”

“I see a solution.” Scootaloo chuckled. “We find those singers and shove grenades up their arses.”

“And get killed?” Flash asked.

Scootaloo hugged Flash and winked at him. “We’re gonna be famous, dude.”

Flash shook Scootaloo’s arm off of him and shuddered.

“If we want to do it, we need a plan,” Twilight said. “Does anyone have any?”

Trixie nodded. “My car has almost no electronic stuff in it. We can get close to them–”

“– and blow shit up!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “Then we’ll get out and kill everyone who is still alive.”

“That’s not a plan!” Flash hid his face in his hands. “That’s suicide.”

“It kinda is…” Twilight nodded.

“Didn’t stop us before.” Scootaloo smiled.

Flash opened his mouth to protest, but suddenly they heard the sound of screeching tyres coming from the outside. They rushed to the windows to see a white car turning sharply in the middle of the street to face the group of fish people.

“Suicide, dude?” Scootaloo asked. “Then what is this dude doing, dude?”

The front of the car moved upwards, revealing a large speaker hidden underneath. The floor of the house trembled from the low-pitched sound. The fish people screamed, falling to the ground and covering their ears. The car darted forward, circling around the group and spraying some liquid on the fish people. It stopped by the fence of Twilight’s house and a thin girl jumped out of it.

“Hello, Vinyl!” Trixie exclaimed.

Vinyl waved at her and threw the cigarette butt at fish people. They screamed even louder, catching fire immediately and running around, knocking into each other or attempting to stop, drop, and roll, only to find out it didn’t work at all.

Scootaloo gulped, watching the carnage. “Have you ever thought you’re the baddest of badass motherfuckers and then even badder badass came in a napalm-shitting, infrasound emitting car-thingy and showed you how much you suck?”

“I believe the words are ‘worse’ and ‘the worst’,” Twilight muttered, staring at Vinyl, who stood on the pavement, flames reflecting in the lenses of her glasses.

“Also, isn’t napalm kinda banned or something?” Flash asked.

“Tell it to her, Trixie dares you,” Trixie muttered.

Finally, the bodies of the fish people turned into dark, sorry piles of bones and ashes. Vinyl walked back to her car and let a few more people out before going to Twilight’s house.

“Hello,” Octavia said when Twilight opened the door. She walked inside, followed by Sophisticata, Vinyl, Fluttershy, and Sweet Leaf. The last two girls had torn clothes and messy hair and immediately dropped on the couch, breathing heavily.

“I see that your ruse worked,” Sophisticata said, seeing Flash, Twilight, Scootaloo, and Trixie. “You would never believe what happened to us. For starters, the army is now running away from the Mother of All the Fish People. She destroyed the pier and, hopefully, changed all those nutty, unwashed animal lovers into a fine pulp.”

Behind Sophisticata’s back, Vinyl made a gesture suggesting snapping someone’s neck and jerking off while watching the light disappearing from their eyes.

“Not all of them.” Octavia pointed at Sweet Leaf and Fluttershy.

“Indeed,” Sophisticata said. “But this one with green hair is permanently brain-damaged. Hey, girl smelling of bananas and pipe weed, what’s your opinion on fish people?”

Sweet Leaf groaned. “They’ll surely enrich our culture…”

“She’s not brain-damaged,” Fluttershy muttered, rubbing her wounds. “She was always like that.”

“See?” Sophisticata shrugged. “So, the situation goes like this: there’s a monster destroying the town and we’ll either have to stop it or wait for the army to do that, which is never a wise idea since they’ll probably nuke us sooner or later. This being said, we’d like to propose a cooperation, since you guys are nutty enough and you also possess information which– I see what you’re doing there, you uncultured, navel-fucked catamite!” She turned to Vinyl who immediately stopped making gestures indicating a rather brutal case of corpse desecration.

“She usually does that when someone talks too much.” Octavia smirked. “Though at least she didn’t jam her crotch in your face.”

Trixie cleared her throat. “Okay then. You want to fight fish people and we just happen to know how.” She turned to Twilight. “Tell Trixie, how those Seven Singers look like?”

Twilight showed the book to her. Trixie looked at the illustration depicting a large, hulking fish pony with something that seemed to be an oversized diaphragm and red tips of the fins. Its pale eyes were staring back at her, making her shudder. After a while, she produced a few pieces of fabric from her pockets and turned them in her fingers.

“I know!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “You’re gonna knit them to death!”

“Well, this may be effective, although horribly slow,” Octavia said. “Vinyl has a faster way to do that.” She pointed at her friend, who saluted, holding a lighter in her hand.

“I guess we’ll leave those hippies here.” Sophisticata stood up. “Against magic, fire, and our awesome personalities, those fish people don’t have a chance!”

“Yeah.” Flash nodded. “The question is, do we have a chance…”

Author's Note

Somewhere around this chapter, I drew Vinyl watching world burn...

Do You Believe in Magic?

Rainbow Dash blinked when the cold wind blew on her. She opened her eyes to see a bed in front of her. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were lying in it, both of them clad in leather underwear with a few chains added here and there for a good measure. They were looking back at her and Rainbow Dash slowly realised her situation. Namely the fact that she was naked and that her hands and legs were chained to the wall.

“I expected something more from you,” Rainbow Dash muttered. “Like, adorning me with nipple and clit piercings, drawing tally marks on my ass indicating how many dildos fit in there, cumming in my hair… I must say I’m disappointed.”

“Fish people and some fucking ninja that tried to kill us on the way here,” Diamond Tiara replied. “Not enough time. Too bad the ninja ran away when we started shooting, or you’d have company.”

Rainbow Dash smirked. “So, what’s on the schedule? I hope it’s something kinky, but I guess you can’t do better than the last time I had sex.”

Silver Spoon chuckled. “It will be kinky, but you won’t be a part of it. Better hope that you can come without your hands because you’ll only watch as we slowly reach the peaks of pleasure…”

Diamond Tiara laughed and kissed Silver Spoon, embracing her and dropping on the bed with her.

Rainbow Dash watched the duo making out with a blank expression. After a few minutes she yawned, stretching her muscles. She raised her eyebrows for a moment, before yawning again. “Seriously?” she muttered. “Just fingers? I had a whole fist back there… And that was Bulk Biceps, mind you.” She stared at the action in front of her and shrugged as much as it was possible in her restraints. “Ah, not going ass to mouth here. That’s a part of the thrill, you know? At least for me, but you, kids, may know better.”

The moans coming from the bed faltered for a moment, but soon resumed, this time even louder.

“Deeper, you haven’t even reached her G-spot.” Rainbow Dash sighed and shook her head. “When I say deeper, I mean, elbow-deep, moron! Yes, punish her. What? A smack in the butt doesn’t hurt at all! How can you handle your slave if you don’t even bite her clit?”

Diamond Tiara groaned and sat on the bed, facing Rainbow Dash. “Okay,” she muttered. “What do you want?”

Rainbow Dash smirked. “I’m just giving constructive criticism,” she replied.

“Oh really?” Diamond Tiara chuckled. “Let’s see if you can do better…”

“Okay,” Rainbow Dash said. “Untie me and I’ll show you…”

To Rainbow Dash’s surprise, amidst all the ruckus caused by the fish people, the ambulance arrived only five minutes later. Perhaps the way she worded her call played a crucial part in it – the paramedics, bored of fish people-related injuries were probably more than happy to see something new.

Rainbow Dash, wrapped neatly in a towel, watched as the stretcher with Silver Spoon was carried out of the flat. She was conscious, holding a bag of ice on her crotch, sweating and blushing profusely. Diamond Tiara was in even worse state; after a while spent trying various medical procedures, all the paramedics managed to do was to remove a smile off her face.

“Pff, lightweights,” Rainbow Dash muttered to herself. “Now off to fight fish people…”

The roar of the motorbike was something fish people quickly learned to fear. They ran towards the sea, knowing well that once they saw the machine, it was too late.

“Thirty one!” Sunny shouted, standing in the sidecar and jamming the kukri in the leg of the hapless fish person who couldn’t outrun the motorbike. The creature screamed, collapsing on its knees and facing the barrel of the shotgun held by Sunset.

“Goodnight,” Sunset muttered, hitting the fish person with the butt of her weapon. It fell on the concrete, unconscious.

“A big guy on twelve!” Sunny exclaimed, pointing at the large fish person crawling from behind a tank lying on its side. It roared, raising its arms and presenting chest muscles more resembling a green, hairless gorilla rather than anything that swam in the ocean.

Sunset aimed and pulled the trigger, feeling the butt of the shotgun pushing against her clavicle when the shot nearly deafened her. The fish person staggered, several red holes springing on its chest. However, it took a step forward, reaching its arms towards the motorbike.

Sunset yanked the lever forward. The smoking cartridge fell out of the chamber and bounced off the ground a few times. She pushed the brakes of the motorbike and stopped in front of the fish person, standing with the shotgun in her hands.

“It’s coming closer!” Sunny swung the blood-stained kukri in an attempt to intimidate the enemy. Given that the fish person was the size of a small car, it failed miserably.

“That’s what I’m waiting for,” Sunset whispered, aiming the shotgun. She squeezed the trigger. The explosion of gunpowder propelling the shot mixed with the blast of air coming from the cut trachea as the fish person’s head fell apart into unrecognisable grey, red, and pink bits. The body shuddered and slowly collapsed on the ground, kicking and spraying blood around before finally freezing.

“We’d better get out of here,” Sunset said, watching the humongous body and reloading the shotgun. “We have seven shots left.”

“Well, I can use my kukri then,” Sunny replied.

“Against this?” Sunset pointed at the nearby skyscrapers. The fish person who was wandering behind them was taller than them, with a small head almost completely covered with tentacles growing out of the fins. The arms were also more tentacle-like in shape, dragging behind the creature. As far as the Sunsets could tell, it was accompanied by seven smaller creatures, each of them at least fifteen metres tall.

“We’re gonna need something bigger,” Sunny muttered, staring at the shotgun. “Maybe a howitzer?”

Suddenly, a howitzer thrown by one of the fish people flew above them, hitting the wall of the nearby building and falling to the ground in an avalanche of torn metal, shattered glass, and crushed bricks.

“Do you think we can still use it?” Sunny asked.

“It’s a piece of junk now,” Sunset replied. “It seems that the army has trouble.” She drove the motorbike to the collapsed tank and saw an abandoned walkie-talkie. It seemed to still work; when Sunset picked it up, she heard static and, after turning the knob for a while, some muted voices.

Most of the electronics went to hell! They’re jamming our transmission! Send in the fucking planes and change this place into a fucking Saigon!

Suddenly, the walkie-talkie went silent. Sunset sighed and hid it in the sidecar before driving forward.

“Where are we going?” Sunny asked.

“We need more ammo and maybe something heavier,” Sunset replied. “Of course we’re going back to school.”

“And they told me I was insane.” Sunny shrugged. “Why school?”

“After the Moondancer incident in Crystal Prep, Principal Celestia hired a new janitor.” Sunset turned right and shot a lone fish person sitting on the pavement. “Let’s say he’s very good at cleaning.”

The road to school wasn’t long. However, avoiding the bodies of fish people scattered on the ground was rather hard and it took Sunset a while to maneuver around them. Especially since a bullet flew past her head and hit the postument in front of the school as soon as she reached it.

“Mr. Discord!” Sunset exclaimed, raising her head to look at the roof. “We’re not fish people!”

A grey-haired man in a brown suit stood up – apparently, he had been lying on the roof with an old rifle with a scope. He hung it on his back and stood in attention. “I know you’re not fish people, Ms. Shimmer. Otherwise, I wouldn’t miss.” He walked to the edge of the roof, looked at the rain gutter, kicking it a few times before sliding down the downspout. “What brings you and your human counterpart here?”

“How did you–” Sunny went silent when Sunset poked her.

“Oh, that wasn’t hard.” Discord chuckled. “Anyway, I guess you came here because you want help, right?”

“Right as always, Mr. Discord,” Sunset replied, raising her shotgun. “We need some shells for this. And maybe a howitzer.”

“Or at least a machine gun,” Sunny said. “One that can be mounted on the sidecar.”

“I have no such things,” Discord replied. “If I had a howitzer and was twenty years younger, there would be no fish people in this town. I also have no shotgun shells except of this one.” He put his hand in his pocket and produced a shotgun slug in an orange casing. “Use it wisely and better use it last. Your shotgun may require some cleaning after that.”

“What is this?” Sunset took the slug and looked at it. She wasn’t sure what was that, but it was definitely heavier than lead. She opened the shotgun and put it in the magazine. It fit like any other kind of shells.

Discord chuckled. “It’s, well… Let’s say it’s a mostly normal brenneke slug.”

“Mostly?”

“More or less.” Discord shrugged. “As for the support, I believe I know someone who can provide it.” He pointed at the nearby street. Sunset saw a dense cloud of smoke hanging above it. “I believe Ms. Scratch was there.”

“I already like that girl,” Sunny muttered when they rode towards the source of smoke. It turned out to come from a burning corpse of a fish person lying in the middle of the street. Two cars were standing near it – Trixie’s Volkswagen and Vinyl’s white car in its battle form. Sunset couldn’t hear anything coming from the speakers, but the trembling ground around them gave her a clue that for some reason Vinyl decided to reach for the infrasounds. Sunny winced and covered her ears with her hands.

Much to her surprise, Sunset saw Octavia and Sophisticata sitting with Trixie, Twilight, Vinyl, Flash, and Scootaloo. Sophisticata was dancing near the burning corpse, singing Ring of Fire, which, as Sunset thought, either meant that she wasn’t bothered with violence or that she went completely bonkers.

“Hello,” Trixie said. “Where have you been?”

“We were a bit busy,” Sunset replied. “I see you don’t fuck around…”

“Well, at least Vinyl doesn’t.” Trixie pointed at Vinyl, who was sitting on the top of her car, smoking a cigarette. She waved at both Sunsets and smiled, showing her teeth resembling an accident in the cemetery.

“So far, those are only small victories, though,” Twilight said. “We need to kill seven Singers before we can try to kill the Mother of All The Fish People.”

“Those large, green guys?” Sunset asked. “Then what are we waiting for?”

“Trixie’s making adjustments.” Trixie showed them the doll she was making.

“Also, we can’t get too close,” Octavia added. “Vinyl’s wubs may scare the fish people, but the Singers can destroy any electronic equipment.”

Sunny nodded. “Yeah, we saw that before.” She looked into the sidecar. “Hey, that walkie-talkie started talking again. That, or I’m hearing voices.”

Sunset grabbed the walkie-talkie and pushed the knob.

The voice was quiet and almost drowned in static, but they could still recognise it. Blue leader, standing by.

“Is that Spitfire?” Sunset asked. At the same moment, four fighter planes flew over them, causing the nearby windows to tremble.

“Shit!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “They’re totally gonna steal our kill!”

High above the town, the four Super Hornets from the Wonderbolts Squadron turned towards the eight large silhouettes. They were still rather far away from them, but close enough to fire missiles without the risk of getting caught by any of the tentacles. After a quick fly-by, the planes gathered above the cloud layer.

“Okay,” Spitfire said. “We’d better drop some air-to-surface missiles on them before that escalates.”

“Roger,” Fleetfoot replied. “Blaze, Soarin, stay behind.”

Blaze chuckled. “I’m gonna put The Ride of the Valkyries on the radio.”

“Shut up for a moment,” Spitfire muttered. “Soarin, follow me and report damage.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Soarin exclaimed. Two pairs of planes went lower, rolling into a turn. Spitfire chose her weapons, aiming at the Mother of All The Fish People. Her plane shook as she fired two missiles, watching their path on the screens.

For a while, everything was according to the plan. Then, the engine of one of the missiles malfunctioned, causing it to be thrown off course and hit the ground without exploding. The other one exploded above the town. Spitfire started to wonder how many windows it broke, but when the smoke dissipated, she saw that the fish people were still there, apparently unharmed.

“No shit…” she muttered. “Have you seen that, Soarin?”

“Have you heard that the army always chooses the cheapest equipment?” Soarin asked. “Let’s get lower and just shoot these things. Less collateral damage.”

“Better not,” Spitfire replied, but Soarin was already charging towards the fish people. They looked at the plane with what seemed to be curiosity. The Mother of All The Fish People let out a scream and climbed on a skyscraper. Under her weight, it started to tremble dangerously.

Soarin smirked, switching to the gun and grabbing the stick. The fish people were getting closer. He aimed carefully and reached to the trigger.

Suddenly, all the lights in the cockpit went out. He looked around, realising that the engines also weren’t working. Without the automatic stability systems, the plane immediately spun out of control. Soarin tried to eject, only to find out that the seat wasn’t working either. He already prepared to meet the maker, when the plane suddenly got caught by something soft.

Soarin didn’t even have time to smile at the second chance given to him so suddenly. As he looked through the window, he saw what exactly caught him.

It was enough to ruin his mood.

“Sodomise me with a rolling pin!” Scootaloo exclaimed, watching as the Mother of All The Fish People crushed the plane to pieces, grabbing the pilot and holding him in one of her tentacles. “Actually, I’ve seen enough internet–”

“No time for that!” Sunset exclaimed, kickstarting the motorcycle. “Let’s get there and kill it before it ruins the whole town!”

Trixie, Twilight, Flash, Scootaloo, and Sophisticata sat in the Trixie’s Volkswagen while Vinyl grabbed Octavia’s hand and pulled her into her car. Its engine roared and so did the speakers. It darted forward, flashing bright lights around.

“Stealthy, huh?” Sunny muttered, grabbing her kukri and swinging it randomly.

“The word ‘stealth’, just like almost any other word, doesn’t exist in Vinyl’s vocabulary,” Sunset replied, preparing her shotgun. “She prefers to make a big entrance.” She rested the shotgun against the handlebars of the motorbike and took a sharp turn. Then she braked hard and raised her hand, urging both cars to stop.

“What’s going on?” Trixie asked, opening the door of her car.

“The street lights,” Sunset replied, pointing at the nearby lamp. “This is the last one that still works, which means we’re still outside their reach. If you enjoy your mobility, we shouldn’t drive any of the cars or my motorbike in there.”

Twilight walked to Sunset. “Well, now we only have to kill the Singers and let the pilots finish the Mother of All The Fish People off.” She raised the book. “I think I found an incantation that can kill one, but it must be spoken by two people and heard.”

“The speakers?” Flash asked, pointing at Vinyl’s car.

“No electronics,” Twilight replied. “And the incantation must be sung within their range.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sophisticata said. “I have a rather loud voice.”

“Well, Trixie has no such problems…” Trixie grabbed the small doll depicting a Singer. “I couldn’t make any more of them, I’m afraid. That leaves five.”

Vinyl poked Octavia and pointed at Sunset.

“I think she has a plan,” Octavia said. “Apparently it requires Sunset and, as Vinyl puts it, a lot of awesomeness.”

“You understood that from one poke?” Flash asked.

“Yes. And a brief pause between two other pauses.” Octavia smiled. “I’ll go with you.”

“Cool!” Scootaloo exclaimed, smacking Flash’s back. “That leaves the two of us to fight the remaining two, dude.”

“Three,” Flash muttered.

“Even better, dude.” Scootaloo smirked. “There’s no motherfucker like the three of us two of our four.”

“Err… what?” Flash could only raise his eyebrows at Scootaloo’s rather alternative approach to both common sense and grammar.

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Sunny got out of the sidecar and stood in front of her friends with the kukri in her hand. Then she turned back and charged at the fish people.

“Is my newly-found sister committing suicide?” Sunset asked.

“Nah, she’s doing the motherfucking Aragorn.” Scootaloo nodded and smiled at Flash. “And we’re those two runts who ran after him.”

Flash looked at the fish people in front of him. “Well, damn…”

Sunny didn’t check if anyone was following her. She just ran to the leg of the nearest fish person and jammed her kukri in it, as high as she could reach.

“What was that thing this kid said? Yoko Ono? YOLO?” she muttered to herself, pulling herself up on the kukri. The fish person’s skin was slippery, but luckily for her, the creature didn’t feel that something small just bit it. Its legs were also slightly crooked, allowing her to climb more easily.

The fish person turned slowly. Sunny gasped and almost slipped down, but managed to jam the kukri between two scales. She hung on it, staring down at the rest of her friends, circling between the other Singers.

She had to admit it was quite a sight.

“Where’s that other Sunset?” Trixie asked, holding the doll in her hands, reaching towards the nearest Singer. It raised its her and stood still, staring back at her.

“She seems to be on the top of things.” Sophisticata pointed at another Singer while pulling Twilight towards the nearby building.

“Good. Trixie wouldn’t want to attack the same one.” Trixie walked slowly towards the her fish person, twisting the doll in her fingers. The Singer twitched, resting itself against the nearby building. It soon had to let go off it when Trixie turned the doll the other way round. It stumbled and fell on its knees, crushing the concrete as well as its own bones. One of its companions noticed that and rushed towards Trixie, trying to step on her.

Instead of running away, Trixie darted forward, towards the attacker. Its leg went above her head and slammed into the concrete right behind her. Trixie fell, rolling on the ground. She froze, waiting for the massive foot to crush her, but it didn’t happen; the fish person was much too big to move that fast.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie hates running!” Trixie exclaimed, getting back on her feet. She grabbed the voodoo doll in her mouth and bit its head off.

The Singer Trixie had attacked first froze in place just before its head exploded in the mass of blood, gore, and bone shards. Its body staggered and slowly collapsed, tearing off half of the nearby house’s wall before finally resting in the cloud of brick dust and debris.

“Good thing everyone ran away,” Scootaloo deadpanned, watching Trixie bent over on the pavement, throwing up. She looked around and saw Flash, whose face was pale green. “Come on, dude, we need to kill our five!” She turned towards the Mother of All The Fish People and flipped her off. “Surrender, cocksuckers! We’ll kick your asses in no time!”

“I’d like to point out that you can’t kill them by running around and shouting at them,” Flash muttered. “You need some magic, or something.”

Twilight leaned against the wall, panting and hacking. The elevator wasn’t working and after several flight of stairs, it was apparent that she could use some more workout and much less sitting at her desk for whole nights, researching something. She couldn’t help but wonder how Sophisticata could not only walk upstairs without breaking sweat, but also spout an endless stream of words.

“So, I suppose a healthy dose of tradition can help in situation like those,” Sophisticata said, jumping up three steps at once. “I’m not saying we should return to burning people at the stake, but modern kids can’t find the way out of their own ass without their smartphone. The electricity’s out, fish people attack and half of the population dies because they think vegan, gluten-free ravioli grows on trees. No one can hunt, skin, cook, and eat their own food.” She looked through the window and crossed herself. “Holy shit!”

“What’s going on?” Twilight asked. She was two flights of stairs behind Sophisticata, trying to catch her breath.

“I sinned against the second commandment,” Sophisticata replied. “That’s my worst, along with the sixth. From other news, one of those things just exploded. We’d better hurry before the rest does the same.”

“You’re saying?” Twilight took a deep breath and rushed up the stairs to catch up with Sophisticata.

“But of course.” Sophisticata shook her head, looking at Twilight. “Just look what lack of physical activity does to you. It doesn’t even have to be sport. I just talk a lot, sing a lot, stage plays… All that requires energy and that’s how you get fit, unlike some certain wimps who only get offended when someone tells them the truth…” She reached the top of the stairs and looked at the ladder leading to the roof. “There you go. Before we get there, let me take a look at this ritual.”

Twilight walked to her and opened the book on the right page. “That’s it. The language is apparently the closest approximant of their language humans can still use.”

“Damn, that’s long,” Sophisticata muttered. “And it can only kill one at a time? Not very effective…”

“Most of rituals work that way,” Twilight replied. “Actually, the book also lists a ritual to banish the Mother of All The Fish People. but it requires a hangman’s semen and a virgin’s period blood.”

“We can always hang Sentry. One has to learn to sacrifice others,” Sophisticata said. “As for the latter… I’m not sure if there are virgins in this town. At least not since Drama Letter–” She cleared her throat. “What is that ritual exactly? I’d rather not accidentally doom my soul to endless suffering, though there was a time I thought Satan was a pretty cool guy.”

“Apparently it’s just a string of bad puns in their language,” Twilight replied. “The author of the book says fish people hate bad puns.”

Sophisticata furrowed her eyebrows. “Pardon my French, but don’t you think the author of that book may be fucking with us?”

“There’s one way to find out…” Twilight walked to the ladder.

“That was a bad idea…” Sunset shot at the leg of the incoming fish person. She could swear some of the pellets bounced off of it without harming the creature. Next to her, Vinyl threw a Molotov’s cocktail at the Singer, also without a result. Octavia quickly turned out to be useless in combat, cowering behind Vinyl.

Sunset hid behind an overturned truck and cocked her lever shotgun. After doing a brief counting, she realised that she had only two shells left and gulped, sweating heavily.

The fish person walked to the truck and leaned over it. Sunset screamed and jumped back, seeing the surprisingly small head so close to her. A few drops of acid fell from the creature’s mouth, missing her by a few inches. Sunset raised the shotgun and fired into the fish person’s face.

She heard the sound of the air being sucked in and saw how her pellets disappeared in the Singer’s mouth. She realised what’d happen and dropped on the ground just as the lead balls flew back at her. Despite that, she screamed when one of them hit her right arm, grazing the muscles.

“You little cocksucker…” Sunset muttered, grabbing her shotgun. She was about to shoot, when Vinyl put her hand on her arm.

“What’s going on?” Sunset asked.

Vinyl smiled and got a plastic bag from her pocket. Sunset saw some blue pills inside and raised her eyebrows, looking at Vinyl. The DJ’s smile grew even wider as she aimed and threw the bag at the Singer.

Normally, she would miss, but the fish pony sucked the pills into its mouth. Sunset backpedalled, in case the pills were to get thrown back at them, but suddenly, the monster went cross-eyed and sat on the street, drooling and staring into space.

“Let’s hope this chap doesn’t start dancing around in female underwear,” Octavia muttered, looking at Sunset’s wound. “This doesn’t look good.”

“It’s only a flesh wound,” Sunset replied, standing up.

“Remember that I come from a country where this line was conceived,” Octavia said, ignoring the fact that Vinyl was tapping at her back. “Also, remember that it was in the bloody fish person’s mouth. You need a tetanus shot and Of Mice and Men treatment when you start to mutate.”

“I’m not going to mutate!” Sunset exclaimed. Suddenly, she realised that, even though it was day, they were in the large shadow. She looked at Vinyl, who was backpedalling and then back at Octavia.

“Well, we have to be prepared for every– What in the bloody hell are you doing?” Octavia asked, seeing that Sunset aimed the shotgun at her.

Instead of a reply, Sunset pulled the trigger. Whatever Discord had used as a propellant exploded, nearly tearing the shotgun apart and throwing Sunset backwards. The slug flew inches above Octavia’s head, catching fire in mid-air and hitting the stomach of another Singer, standing right behind the cellist. The fish person groaned and stumbled backwards, looking at the brand new hole in its body.

Sunset saw that the wound was no bigger than a fist, although the green-sprayed walls of the building behind the giant told her that the exit wound was probably the size of a bus. What was more, she noticed that the greenish skin started to rip, spreading from the wound.

“Run!” Sunset darted forward, down the street. Vinyl pulled Octavia with her, rushing to avoid the stream of gore and intestines, falling from the ripped stomach on the street. They were soon followed by the body of their owner, slamming into the pavement with the sound resembling a trash bag full of jelly; that is, if someone was crazy enough to fill trash bags with jelly and throw them from the roof.

They continued to run, until Octavia tripped and fell. She looked behind and saw Trixie on all fours, retching over something that looked like her lunch.

“Throwing up?” Octavia asked.

“Mhm,” Trixie muttered before grabbing her stomach and heaving for a while.

“Mind if I join you?”

Trixie nodded, so Octavia joined her, trying to be as classy as it was possible in her situation. Trixie could barf or puke; Octavia was always throwing up.

“Dude, my girlfriend is a wimp, sometimes.” Vinyl shrugged and grabbed a cigarette.

“She sure is.” Sunset furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Vinyl. “Wait, did you just–?”

Vinyl chuckled and lit up the cigarette. Sunset groaned, but at the same moment she heard some noises coming from the walkie-talkie she was still carrying with her. She grabbed it and listened to the conversation.

“Three are down, I say three are down!” Spitfire exclaimed. “What’s going on down there? Can someone see Soarin’?”

“There are many more coming from the sea! They’re smaller, though, but I’d rather not check what they can do to us,” Fleetfoot replied.

Sunset pushed the knob on the walkie-talkie. “Can anyone hear me? Spitfire? Sunset Shimmer here.”

“What?” Spitfire asked. “What are civilians doing on this frequency?”

“Killing fish people and shit,” Sunset replied. “Listen, only those big guys can jam electronics. We’ll take care of them, but we have enough trouble without more of them swarming the area. Go to the sea and give them hell. I’ll tell you when there’s only the Mother of All The Fish People left, so you can shoot her.”

It took a while before Spitfire replied. “Okay,” she said. “Blaze, Fleetfoot, we’re gonna do the Omaha Beach, but this time we’re Germans. Got it?”

“Didn’t they eventually lose the war?” Blaze asked.

“Shut up,” Spitfire muttered. The planes accelerated, flying towards the beach.

“There we go.” Sunset hung the walkie-talkie on her belt. “Let’s find the rest and regroup.”

Flash and Scootaloo were rather unlikely to be found. As soon as the bombs and missiles started falling at the fish people swarming the beach, the Mother of All The Fish people realised that taking all the Singers to protect her wasn’t the brightest of her ideas, as far as strategy went. Thus, two of the Singers were now walking towards the seashore. Little did they know that their mortal enemy was following them.

“Hey, cunt!” Scootaloo exclaimed, grabbing a brick and throwing it at the fish person. “Come back here and fight like a man!”

“I’m not sure if sexual dimorphism is a thing among them,” Flash said, desperately trying to figure out a better method of killing a Singer. So far he ditched the idea of poking it with a stick until it died of boredom.

“Who are you calling a dimorphism, you dimorphism?” Scootaloo turned back to the fish person. “Come at me, you dimorphism-fucked cow anus!”

The fish person slowly turned back and looked down at Scootaloo and Flash before trying to stomp on them. Flash rushed away, hiding behind a hot dog stand that somehow was still standing on the pavement. It wasn’t long. Scootaloo stood on the stand and flashed her boobs to the Singer. A moment later, Flash had to run away again, when the stand was crushed to a million little pieces. He sighed and grabbed Scootaloo’s hand just in time to prevent her from mooning the monster.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” Flash exclaimed. Scootaloo didn’t reply; they had to run away from the Singer’s foot again.

“Don’t worry, we’re close,” Scootaloo muttered, seeing the giant leg raise again. They ran behind the corner and heard the foot crushing the street in the place where they’d been a moment earlier. “Listen, dude… As soon as it realises it can’t stomp on us and tries to use its fin-like hand thingies, we run between its legs. ¿Capisco?

“Si,” Flash replied, although he didn’t capisco at all. However, the fish person was getting closer to them and there was no time for more questions.

“Now!” Scootaloo exclaimed, when the Singer leaned towards them, trying to catch them. They ran; Flash gritted his teeth, feeling that the fin-like fingers were just behind his back. He and Scootaloo ran between the creature’s legs. The Singer was still leaning, putting its hands between its legs to reach it.

This couldn’t last for long. The centre of mass finally ended up in the place where it shouldn’t and the Singer slowly tumbled, like a freight train trying to perform a somersault. Flash heard a loud and sickening crash as the creature’s spine shattered. It flailed its limbs, nearly throwing him at the wall, before finally expiring.

“That’s it?” Flash muttered.

“Well, it’s big so it falls from a great height,” Scootaloo replied, shrugging. “So technically, physics killed the bitch.”

Flash shrugged. “If you say so…”

“Come on, dude, we gotta kill the next one!” Scootaloo exclaimed, running down the street.

“Wait!” Flash pointed at the car standing in the back alley. None of the fish people crushed it and it was quite a nice red Ram pickup. Flash looked around to see if no one was watching, grabbed a brick and smashed the window with it. At least the car didn’t have the alarm. Flash reached his hand inside and opened the door. For a while, he was trying to figure out how to turn the engine on, but then Scootaloo sat in the car, unceremoniously ripped some wires from under the steering wheel and put some of them together. The engine immediately started working.

“I thought your family was rich?” Flash asked.

“You know, poor kids steal cars because they have to, rich kids steal cars because they’re bored and like to fuck around, dude,” Scootaloo replied. “Now, let’s go!”

Flash pushed the accelerator and they drove along the empty street. The Singer was walking slowly towards the pier, where the three planes were ripping the fish people a new one, changing the beach into a proper battlefield. All that was missing were the waving flags and patriotic music while the bombs fell in slow motion.

“Dude, do you have a plan?” Scootaloo asked, looking at the speedometer and fastening her seat belts.

“No, but I have an airbag,” Flash replied, leaning forward and aiming at the legs of the fish person. The engine choked and turned off as soon as they were in the Singer’s range, but they still had enough momentum to ram into the creature’s Achilles tendon.

The airbags bursted out. The force of impact knocked the wind out of Flash; his clavicle snapped when he hung in the seat belts before being thrown back at his seat. The fish person staggered, but instead of falling, it kicked the car, wrecking its back and sending it tumbling at the wall.

“Dude, are you crazy?!” Scootaloo exclaimed when the car stopped, upside-down. “Were you trying to become a fucking bukkake, or what?”

“It’s kamikaze,” Flash whispered, trying to unfasten the seat belts with only one hand. When he did so, he fell out of his seat, groaning and screaming. “Did we kill it?

They felt the ground shaking as the Singer limped towards them. Flash decided not to wait for its appearance. He kicked the mangled door open and got out of the car. Scootaloo followed him, running down the nook just as the fish person stomped on the truck, changing it into a metal pancake.

“Are we running to confuse it again?” Flash asked. “I don’t feel like doing that…”

“Me neither, dude.” Scootaloo rested against the wall, panting. “Not after becoming a crash test dummy.”

“So, what are we doing?” Flash looked at the Singer, who was currently busy stomping on the remains of the car, changing it into unrecognisable bits.

“How about hiding behind this door and hoping we survive when it destroys the building?” Scootaloo pointed at the metal door in the wall next to them. Flash opened it and went inside. Suddenly, he bounced off something that resembled a pair of weather balloons.

“My boobies!” a blue girl exclaimed, watching as Flash landed on his ass. “Why do people always bounce into my boobies?”

“Hey, I know you!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “You’re that fish-smelling, out-of-tune singing seductress from another dimension! Like… Sonata, right? Where are the other two?”

“Closer than you’d think,” Adagio replied, patting Scootaloo’s back. Unfortunately for her, it didn’t make a right impression – Scootaloo just backpedalled and unceremoniously checked out Adagio’s boobs.

“Good thing he didn’t bounce into those, or he’d smash his skull,” Scootaloo said, pointing at Flash. “Do you buy bras in the kids section?”

“Speak for yourself.” Adagio’s voice was so cold it could help fight global warming. “Your boob size is probably two-by-four.”

“But at least I admit it.” Scootaloo smirked. “Come one, let’s become small tits buddies…” She reached her arms towards Adagio and hugged her.

“Excuse me,” Aria Blaze said, coming out of the shadows that were her natural habitat. “Aren’t there some fish people outside?”

Suddenly, they heard a terrible roar and the whole building shook, as if someone was trying to tear it from its foundations.

“Well, about that…” Flash stood up, staggered and rested himself against Sonata. “There’s one outside… A really big one. We were just trying to kill it, but we only broke its foot, I think.”

Adagio smiled in a way that showed more teeth than emotion. Sonata did the same, causing Flash to step back from her. Only Aria remained focused, mainly because her smile could kill puppies and baby seals, and Sonata had asked her not to do that. She grabbed a few bottles standing behind her and handed them to Flash and Scootaloo. “Wanna help?” she asked. “If anyone of us gets wounded or killed, pour this on her.”

“What is this?” Flash looked at the bottle unsurely. The fish person hit the building again; deep cracks appeared in the walls.

“Seawater!” Sonata exclaimed. “We can regenerate because of it and after we’ll get rid of those fish people, we’ll totally take over the whole country!”

“Yeah, good job revealing our plans,” Aria muttered. “Can we go before this sack of meat dumps the whole house on our heads?”

The three sirens rushed out of the building much faster than they should theoretically be able to pull off. They jumped on the Singer, biting into the flesh of its legs.

When Flash was a little kid, his mother often let him watch documentaries about animals, since they were educational. Flash mostly agreed with her, at least until he saw a herd of piranhas devouring a wounded capybara that had a misfortune of stepping into the river. What he just saw was more or less similar; just without water and on a much larger scale.

He wasn’t even sure if he was in shock after the crash, or the three sirens really transformed into something more akin to an amphibious hybrid; not fully a siren, but not a human either. The only thing he was sure of was that after everything ended, there was a skeleton of a fish person standing in the back alley. Three sirens were lying below it, panting. There was no trace of blood or gore anywhere around, and only the fact that Adagio, Aria, and Sonata were unable to move with their swollen bellies was an indication of what happened.

“Water,” Adagio muttered. “It’ll help us digest it faster…”

Flash opened the bottle and took a step towards her, but Scootaloo stopped him. She walked to the skeleton of the fish person and rested herself against the gargantuan calcaneus.

“It’s an amazing pile of bones, huh?” she said. “Perfectly balanced. Even without the muscles and shit, it’s still standing. It’d be a shame if someone did this…” She kicked the fibula and watched as the skeleton slowly toppled. Most of it hit the wall at the end of the street, but the leg bones landed on the motionless sirens, changing them into bloody puddles.

Scootaloo turned to Flash, who was watching the scene in horror. “Let’s go, dude. I’ll need a shovel and three plastic bags.”

“Why did you kill them?” Flash asked when he regained the ability to speak.

“I didn’t kill them,” Scootaloo replied. “Put them in seawater and they’ll regenerate.”

“But why leaving them like that?” Flash looked at the pile of bones. “That’s kinda inhumane.”

“Because I wouldn’t want to deal with the siren attack right after fish people invasion,” Scootaloo said. “You know, I always wanted to steal my father’s yacht and go on a trip around the world. We’ll dump them in Somalia and they’ll become pirates.”

“W-we?”

Scootaloo smiled, resting on Flash’s shoulder. Unfortunately, it was the injured one, so Flash screamed and collapsed on the ground, ruining the mood.

“Oh, come on,” Scootaloo tried to help Flash up. “You know, we should get married. I’m eighteen, so it’s high time.”

“Over my dead body…” Flash muttered. “Actually, I always wanted to become a monk… Or an eunuch. Yeah, an eunuch monk would be nice.”

Scootaloo chuckled. “You’ll have plenty of time during the honeymoon…”

Somewhere in the middle of the massive Singer’s back, Sunset “Sunny” Shimmer stopped to rest on a massive spike growing out of the creature’s spine. She spat the kukri and prodded the skin with it. The blade bounced off. Sunset grabbed it with her teeth and started climbing again.

“I’ll show them there can be only one Sunset Motherfucking Shimmer…” she muttered to herself.

Not far away from Sunset, Twilight produced a piece of chalk from her pocket and drew a pentacle on the roof of the building. She then drew a circle around it and stepped into it.

“I’m not going there,” Sophisticata muttered. “My confessor wouldn’t approve of that.”

“It’s a white pentacle and the chalk was blessed,” Twilight replied, opening the grimoire. “I’m pretty sure your karma won’t suffer.”

“Karma?” Sophisticata’s eyes narrowed.

“Umm…” Twilight smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, it’s not karma in your case. Get into the circle and think of it as a crusade. Fish people are, as far as I know, pagans, so–”

Sophisticata opened her mouth to give Twilight a crash course in religious studies, but then she saw a Singer staring at them, perhaps wondering who they were and what they were doing. She rolled her eyes and stepped into the circle. However, after looking into the book her expression faltered.

“How am I supposed to read that?” she asked.

“Slowly and clearly,” Twilight replied. “Okay, so we’ll start with this line… Repeat after me.”

Sophisticata shrugged and cleared her throat. When Twilight said the first words, she felt chill running up her spine. The spell consisted mostly of guttural and pharyngeal consonant, with occasional lonely vowels. Twilight’s voice kept faltering, but Sophisticata, having numerous acting lessons and countless plays to her name, quickly found the right rhythm. She practically sung the following lines, staring at the fish person, who froze staring at them.

Suddenly, the world around her turned red. She looked at Twilight and saw that her eyes were now solid black orbs. Sophisticata deduced that the same thing happened to her. It wasn’t exactly a new experience for her; when the Sirens nearly took over the school, her eyes were doing a lot of weird things due to constant mind control. She tried to stop chanting the spell, but it turned out to be impossible; as if the spell cast itself.

The light flashed into Sophisticata’s eyes and she suddenly found herself sitting on a small island. Next to her, there was a Singer, sitting in the middle of the beach and looking a bit lost. Or at least Sophisticata thought so – the faces of the largest fish people were more or less as expressive as an armoured personnel carrier.

“What’s going on?” Sophisticata asked.

“It seems that we’re in the neutral place where we can hold talks.”

Sophisticata turned her head to see Twilight resting on a large rock. For some reason she looked like when she snapped and started tearing holes in time and space.

“Why do you look like this?” Sophisticata raised her eyebrows and looked at the fish person, who was listening to them, resting its head on its arms.

“Magic brings out the worst in me, I guess,” Twilight replied. “Or maybe it just looks more threatening to this gentleman.”

“Ah, I get it,” Sophisticata said. “I wonder if I can do something like that too.” Suddenly, something popped and she changed into a shapeless mass of some unrecognisable body parts, with a lot of eyes in absolutely wrong places, towering over the island.

“Show-off,” Twilight muttered, before turning to the Singer. “Listen, my friend. Thanks to the somewhat limited omniscience skill I got when we ended up here, I learned that most of your buddies got disposed of in rather messy circumstances. In a broader perspective, you’re simply not biologically possible in the world where only seventy-one percent of surface of the globe is water and the gravity is twice as strong as on the planet you come from. Even if you do take over this town, the sad guys in black suits will decide that it’d be cool to drop a big load of uranium on you and not even your singing will help you.” She smiled. “So, why don’t you go to your dimension when you have a chance?”

The Singer roared and stood up. For a moment, Sophisticata thought it’d attack them and tried to stand up too. However, she couldn’t quite figure out how her new body worked. Before she could do so, the fish person walked into the ocean and jumped into it, swimming away from the island.

Before Sophisticata could wave a tentacle, the world flashed again and she realised that she was a human again, sitting on the roof. The fish person that was previously standing in front of them was gone. Instead, the Mother of All The Fish People was screeching at them from the nearby skyscraper. She kept holding a pilot in her tentacles.

“We’d better get down before she hops to us,” Sophisticata muttered, backpedalling towards the roof entrance.

“There’s still one left,” Twilight said. “Maybe we’ll manage to perform the ritual once more…” She looked at the Mother of All The Fish People and saw that she was now holding a large antenna she’d torn from the roof. A moment later, the antenna was flying in their direction.

“Jesus fuck, Twilight, watch out!” Sophisticata cried, pulling Twilight towards the door. They rolled down the stairs as a few tons of bent and torn iron slid on the roof right above their heads. The building shook when it fell on the other side with everything it’d swept from the top of the building.

Twilight raised her head and looked around to see unconscious Sophisticata lying next to her. “Sophie?” she asked.

“Second commandment, I know.” Sophisticata groaned, trying to get up.

“No, I meant to ask if you’re okay,” Twilight replied.

“My ass hurts,” Sophisticata replied. “And I think I sprained an ankle. Therefore, I’m kind of like a main character in the action movie who gets wounded by the end of it. Is that goddamn elevator working?”

“I’m afraid not.” Twilight helped Sophisticata up, letting her rest on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We climbed up, we’ll go down…”

“I fucking hate climbing,” Sunset muttered, lying on the Singer’s shoulder. The head was a few metres away from her, but the creature didn’t notice her, too busy singing. Clenching the kukri between her teeth, Sunset crawled up the slippery skin.

Suddenly, she felt the muscles underneath her shake as the creature roared. She darted forward and jumped on the top of the fish person’s bald head. The yellow eyes went up to look at her. After a moment during which the Singer processed the idea that something was sitting on its head, a huge arm moved upwards, gaining momentum. Sunset cursed under her breath and jumped off the head, catching the fin-like ear.

Everything shook as the fish person smacked itself in the head. Sunset gasped, nearly losing the kukri. She held the ear tighter as the giant turned his head, trying to see her. The whole body tumbled. Sunset pulled herself up, sat on the head, and spat out the kukri.

Panting and gritting her teeth, she leaned forward and jammed the blade into the fish person’s eye. The power of the roar nearly threw her off balance, but she pushed the kukri deeper, turning it in the wound before tearing it off. A fountain of blood and slime shot out of the eye socket, accompanied by a high-pitched shriek.

It took a while before the whole body realised that the brain shut down. The last Singer took a step and started collapsing slowly.

“Should’ve seen that coming,” Sunset muttered, seeing the ground getting closer.

“Is everyone okay?” Sunset asked. “Where’s Flash, Scootaloo, and Funny-Sunny?”

Vinyl nodded, prodding Octavia, whose face was pale, but she was otherwise fine. Trixie was sitting on the pavement, rubbing her temples. Twilight rested against the wall, trying to catch her breath after dragging Sophisticata all the way down and a few blocks till they met with the rest of the group.

“I think we should move,” Octavia said, pointing at the collapsing fish person. “This wanker may fall on us.”

Vinyl shook her head and pointed at the road a few metres from them. Seconds later, the fish person fell, its head hitting against concrete exactly in the place Vinyl showed. Octavia backpedalled, seeing the kukri flying at her. It bounced off the pavement and was about to hit her, when someone caught it firmly.

“I slew the motherfucker,” human Sunset said, putting the kukri behind her belt. “How’s the rest?”

Before anyone could reply, they saw a car approaching them. Whoever was driving it wasn’t a very good driver; it kept bouncing into trash cans and whatever was lying on the road. It skid to a halt by them and they saw Scootaloo behind the wheel. Unconscious Flash lay on the seat next to her. When Sunset looked at the back of the car, she saw a blue hand and a purple leg protruding from the trunk, but decided not to question it.

“We got two,” Scootaloo said. “Now excuse me, we’re going to Las Vegas. Me and Flashy must get married!”

“That’s so wrong,” Sophisticata muttered. “One says, ‘Flashy and I’.”

“Nevermind,” Sunset said, grabbing the walkie-talkie. “Hey, flyboys! You’re free to send the Mother of All The Fish People back to hell!” She put the device down.

Vinyl looked at the sky and waved at the planes. Their bombs and missiles were gone. The Mother of All The Fish People turned to them and roared, waving its tentacles at them.

The pilots had none of that. They rushed at her, the miniguns in their fighters spinning. The Mother of All The Fish People didn’t know such a technology—her own planet was rather backwards in that department—but when hundreds of rounds pierced her, tearing the pieces of flesh and breaking her bones, she did the only appropriate thing in such a situation. Which in her case, meant plummeting down to the ground and crushing the remaining Singer, who was busy thinking of finding female underwear big enough for its ass.

The three fighters turned and flew away, speeding up above Sunset and her friends. Soon, the sound of sonic booms echoed across the town, now clean of fish people.

“Okay…” Sunset muttered. “I guess I’ll call the ambulance or something.”

“It won’t be necessary,” Trixie muttered, pointing at the ambulance driving towards them, along with a black limousine without registration plates. It stopped next to Sunset and two men in black suits and sunglasses walked out of it.

“Seems that we’re late,” one of them said and turned to Sunset. “Was it you who did that?”

“Mostly,” Sunset replied.

“Congratulations,” the other man in black said. “I hope you won’t be talking about that much… Alien invasion on such a scale…”

“Well, it’s always this town.” The first man shrugged. “It’ll be hard to hide it from the public. Anyway, is there something we can do for you?”

Sunset looked at her human counterpart. “Well, my twin sister was held in the mental institution for years because of a clerical error. I guess you can take care of that?”

“Consider it done,” the agent said. “Something else?”

“Vacation on a tropical island,” Trixie muttered.

“I always wanted to work for CERN,” Twilight said. Suddenly, she saw the exact copy of herself running down the desolated street.

“I came through the portal as fast as I could!” the other Twilight exclaimed. “Some crazy guy who looked like Discord tried to shoot me with some magical exploding thingy!” She looked around. “What happened in here?”

“May I ask one more thing?” Sunset smiled at the agents. “You haven’t seen that girl and you’ve never heard what she’s saying.”

“Of course,” the first agent said, looking at Twilight, who was now staring at both Sunsets and her human counterpart unsurely. “What girl?”

“I’m a cellist.” Octavia walked to the agents. “And it’d be nice if I could play in–” Suddenly, she realised, they were gone. Instead, they were now surrounded by cars belonging to newspapers, TV stations, and other news outlets.

“That’s our chance!” Sophisticata stood up surprisingly quickly for someone with a sprained ankle. “Hey, people! You probably want to know everything about what happened, right?” She pulled Vinyl towards herself. “That’s probably the only chance you have to speak to millions of viewers on live TV. What will you say?”

Vinyl smiled at the cameras aiming at her. Then she turned back, lowered her trousers and bent over, giving the millions of viewers on live TV an opportunity to look at her butt in high definition.

“Seems that Sophie will take care of the media,” Sunset walked to pony Twilight. Her human counterpart approached Twilight from the other side, holding the human Twilight’s hand.

“Frankly, that’s not something I expected to see,” pony Twilight muttered. Pony Sunset wrapped her arm around her, causing both pairs to look like mirror images of each other.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Human Sunset chuckled. “Sci-Twi told me about you, otherworldly girl. But tell me… Do you believe in magic?”

The two pairs walked towards the setting sun.

Author's Note

We have one more to go...

More News From Nowhere

Soarin rubbed his temples. As far as he could realise, he just fell down the building with the torn body of the creature formerly know as the Mother of All The Fish People. At least the carcass cushioned his fall, though he wished it’d smell better.

What was more, when he stood up, he saw Rainbow Dash standing in front of him, wrapped in a white towel that revealed more than it covered.

“Am I… dead?” Soarin asked.

Rainbow Dash smiled, wrapping her arm around him. “Dude, I most certainly hope not…”

The beach looked like a proper battlefield. Mostly because it had been a battlefield, just a few hours earlier. Bodies of fish people were lying on the sand or floating in water. The pier ended up as a pile of broken wood shards and the boulevard got almost completely obliterated by bombs. Smoke still filled the area, littered with bomb craters. The only thing that was still standing was a board saying, “Don’t throw rubbish, dead bodies, or turn this place into a fucking warzone, please.”

Paisley crawled from under the pile of wood, trying to get her bearings. After a while, she was joined by Captain Planet, who sat next to her, watching the blood-coloured sea.

“So, I guess they didn’t like the idea of integration?” Paisley muttered, picking up the piece of a broken transparent.

“Most definitely not,” Captain Planet replied, groaning and checking if he still had all the limbs. “What happened to the rest?”

Paisley gritted her teeth. “I think Fluttershy and Sweet Leaf ran away, those weaklings. Tree Hugger either got shot or fish people mistook her for one of them and took her with them. Will we petition to everyone that this should be considered genocide?”

“I don’t think fish people had the best PR in the world.” Captain Planet shrugged. “But don’t worry, I already have a new idea.”

“What’s that?”

“The very appearance of fish people was an effect of ocean pollution!” Captain Planet stood up only to groan and collapse when it turned out that one of his feet was missing. “We should fight it! Let’s get Sandalwood out of the hospital, Starlight from jail, Fluttershy and Sweet Leaf from wherever they are and blow up some ocean-polluting company!”

“Oh yeah,” Paisley said. “Nothing makes me feel better than an explosion!”

At the same moment, one of the unexploded bombs decided to explode, littering them with splinters from the pier. At least both of them were too cool to look at explosions; otherwise, the splinters would end up in their eyes.

“Okay…” Captain Planet rubbed his back. “We’ll go, after we take those out…”

Rarity sighed and looked through the window, before pouring herself another glass of whisky. While London was nice, she would give everything for the better weather. So far, it rained twice this week. First time for three days and then for four more.

She put the whisky on the table and staggered towards her sewing machine. Somehow, the clothes she was making while drunk were considered more avantgarde than the ones she made while sober.

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door. Rarity cleared her throat, straightened her clothes, and hid the whisky in the cupboard before opening. What she saw made her think that she should really give up alcohol.

“Hello, sis!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed, walking into Rarity’s room, completely wet and covered in seaweed, starfish, and other sea creatures. “It took me a while to swim to you… And I met those lovely girls on the way… Somewhere around Nicaragua.”

“Morocco,” the blue girl Rarity recognised as Sonata Dusk said. “Also, it took us a while to swim around Africa.”

Aria nodded. “Yeah, that orange one dumped us by Madagascar, thinking it was Somalia.”

“Too bad,” Adagio said. “We’d be closer to Egypt.” She walked into Rarity’s room and sat in the armchair. “We’ll stay here for a while. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Can they stay?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Please! I swear, I won’t take drugs anymore.”

“I found whisky,” Aria said.

“I found peanut butter!” Sonata exclaimed, her head stuck in the fridge.

Rarity’s face reddened. “Bloody hell…” she muttered. “Whoever is responsible for that… I’ll get you!”

The newly-made doll of Sweetie Belle was sitting on the top shelf. It had a great view on two dolls depicting Twilight Sparkle, two dolls of Sunset Shimmer, and a doll of Trixie sitting on the large bed, along with their real-life counterparts. The floor was littered with their clothes, empty bottles, and a few pizza boxes.

“It was a great idea with those dolls.” pony Sunset picked up on of the Twilight dolls and rubbed its crotch. “Who am I pleasuring now?”

“Me.” Human Twilight blushed, giggling and covering herself with a blanket.

“I was thinking…” Trixie muttered. “Who could perform that sex ritual which summoned fish people?”

Human Twilight blushed even more. “Me, I guess.”

“How?” Human Sunset asked. “From what you’ve told me, no dude ever went there before those shenanigans with dwarves…”

“With Spike and peanut butter…” Twilight giggled.

Pony Sunset stopped rubbing the doll and looked at Twilight. “Spike the dog? I’m now judging you and I let Rainbow Dash pee in my mouth.”

Twilight groaned. "I really didn't need or want to know that second part."

"But that's what friends are for," Sunset replied.

"Peeing in each other's mouths?"

Sunset shrugged. "I meant sharing secrets, but that too."

“You know, girls…” Pony Twilight tried to stand up. Unfortunately, Trixie’s butt was firmly placed on her legs. “I need to go. My friends are probably worried.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself…” Trixie chuckled.

“I already did. Four times.” Twilight laughed, looking at her fingers. “I guess I’ll stay a bit longer. I could use a vacation. And those.” She looked at both Sunsets. “But no peeing in the mouth.”

“Sure, but you’ll stay until you learn to recognise me and Sunny by the taste alone.” Human Sunset pulled Twilight towards herself. “Hmm, we should invite over some dude. I’m not even that gay to begin with.”

“But who?” Trixie shrugged. “Sentry is married, not to mention that every single guy would explode just by seeing us all together. If you’re bored, I can invite my bandmates.” She grabbed a doll of herself and licked it, shuddering. “Or maybe… Twilight, is there a Trixie where you live?”

“There is,” pony Twilight replied. “She once enslaved the whole town with Alicorn Amulet. And recently, she became friends with Starlight Glimmer.”

“You mean, that strange girl who sells Che Guevara t-shirts?” Trixie shook her head. “The other Trixie has weird tastes.” She smirked. “But Trixie is pretty sure she could make everyone her slaves…”

Human Sunset leaned over and smacked Trixie’s ass. “Be my slave first, sweetheart…”

Silver Spoon looked into the snow globe and shook it, watching the snow fall on the miniature Canterlot High. She turned her head to look at Diamond Tiara lying on the bed next to her. The constant beeping of Diamond’s heart monitor was getting on her nerves, but when she first tried switching it off, the nurses got really pissed, so she stopped.

She heard the door opening and raised her head. The nurse that walked in was short, had long, puffy read hair and purple glasses. Silver could swear she’d seen her before. It took her a while till she realised where.

“Twist?” Silver Spoon asked. “What are you doing here?”

“After sending Apple Bloom here, you also end up in the hospital.” Twist locked the door and walked to the bed. “That’s karma coming back. You know what else comes back? Me.”

Silver Spoon felt that her throat was dry. “What are you going to do?”

Twist chuckled, producing a syringe the size of her arm. “Well, my dear Silvy… I am your new nurse. And you must be dying to know what meds I prepared for you…”

Silver Spoon screamed.

Author's Note

I guess they'll be fine. Twist believes there are worse things than death.