The Heroes Equestria Needs

by Blade Trail

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Fancypants, Comedy, Random, Adventure, Iron Will
Length: 5562

Iron Will, Fancy Pants, Gustave Le Grand, and Fernando the Straw save Equestria.

What if Starlight's motley crew had failed? What if they, like all the other heroes of Equestria, had fallen before the guile of Queen Chrysalis and the strength of her changeling army? Who could we call on then? Who could we trust to deliver Equestria from certain doom?

Sunburst thinks he has the answer. And that answer is Iron Will, Fancy Pants, Gustave Le Grand, and Fernando the Straw.

Admittedly, Sunburst wasn't thinking straight at the time.

A deliberately ridiculous alternate take on the Season 6 finale.

Published 2016-10-30 23:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-10-30 23:20:01 UTC

Though, Honestly, Equestria Deserves Better

Sunburst nearly swooned as he realized that his worst fears had come to pass...he was out of peanut butter.

Sunburst had spent the last few days holed up in his house, door locked and windows boarded, alternating between being sick with worry and being sick from eating nothing but high-fiber extra-creamy peanut butter. And now he was out of peanut butter.

Also, Starlight and Thorax had been captured by the changelings.

Sunburst considered his options. He could go out and buy more peanut butter, but would that be enough? Would the local grocery store have enough peanut butter on hoof to last him for the rest of his life? Was he willing to compromise and eat super-chunky every other day to make his stockpile last longer? Where would he even store that much peanut butter? Maybe if he burned his books, or dug out a basement underneath his pantry…

“No, stop being stupid!” he chided himself. “You always do this! When things get bad, you panic and lose sight of what’s really important! Focus, Sunburst. Think!”

He liked the flooring on his pantry.

Then there was the changeling situation. The guy at the grocery store could be a changeling. What better way to get into somepony’s head than to study what groceries they buy? It made sense. Too much sense. The grocery store guy might’ve been captured first - before the princesses, even. He might’ve already hoofed bits over to the changeling cause! Celestia forgive him. Would she forgive him? It was for peanut butter. Do they make peanut butter cake?

“No, more peanut butter isn’t an option. Isn’t safe,” Sunburst muttered to himself. “Not until somepony stops the changelings… Somepony has to stop the changelings!”

Somewhere deep inside Sunburst’s panic-butter-addled mind, Logic rejoiced. Inasmuch as a personified abstract concept can rejoice. Truth be told, it was pretty underwhelming. Sad, even. A prime example of why Pinkie Pie never let Logic tell her how to party.

Sunburst started pacing. “It would have to be somepony unexpected. Somepony nopony’s seen for a while,” he continued. “Somepony that doesn’t buy groceries…”

Sunburst’s eyes widened. He knew just who to call! He rushed over to his desk and started frantically writing out his letters. He even remembered a spell that would take them right to their intended recipients - no potentially changeling-replaced mail ponies required. This plan was perfect! Everything was going to work out.

He would dig a basement out underneath his bathroom later.

~~~~~

“I still don’t understand it, old chap,” Fancy Pants said as he and his three companions walked towards the ominous changeling hive looming in the distance. “Why would Sunburst think the changelings haven’t replaced me?”

“He was right, though, no?” Gustave Le Grand replied. “You were not replaced. Not yet, anyway.”

Fancy Pants frowned. “Well, yes, but just because his assumption was right doesn’t mean it makes any sense.”

“Iron Will doesn’t need his clients to make sense!” Iron Will exclaimed. “Iron Will just needs to get paid.”

“Paid?” Fancy Pants asked incredulously. “I say, aren’t you lads here to preserve the rights of life and liberty? For Celestia and Equestria and all that?”

Iron Will swiftly replied, “If you need Iron Will, then you gotta pay the bill.”

“Refined as I am, I am still a griffon, and a griffon does not work for free, monsieur,” Gustave replied. He looked at Fancy Pants and added, “That said, our mutual friend there has convinced me to waive my usual fees. The charming little devil can be quite convincing, and we do have quite the history. Is that not right, Fernando, you righteous patriot?”

In the breast pocket of Fancy Pants’ suit, a plastic bendy straw slowly tilted downwards in what might - with a combination of imagination, hope, and suspension of disbelief - possibly be considered a nod.

Fancy Pants patted the pocket the straw was poking out of. “Thank you, Fernando. At least I’m not the only one.”

Fernando the straw did not reply. Instead, he continued to emanate the confident, stoic strength that he knew the others needed from him. Little did they know that the source of his strength was an almost uncontrollable, if imperceptible, fury.

The changelings had stolen away Pinkie Pie, his closest friend and confidant, the only pony who truly understood the depths of his bendy plastic being (Gummy was a gator). And the gall to think that they could replace her! That he would not notice! Just who did they think he was? Some ignorant upstart pocket lint like “Sir” Lintsalot? He was the prized centerpiece in the largest straw collection the world has ever known! He was Fernando.

And he would have his revenge.

~~~~~

Deep inside the changeling hive, one of the changelings standing guard outside Chrysalis’ throne room shuddered.

“What’s wrong, Carapace?” the guard next to him asked.

“Can’t you sense it, brother?” Carapace asked, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth as he nervously tasted the air.

“Sense what?” the other guard asked.

“Hate,” Carapace replied. “So much of it. As if someone - something - has just sworn terrible vengeance upon our kind. It tastes unstoppable, unforgiving...and a little like those plastic straws with the bendy necks.”

“That’s ridiculous,” the other guard scoffed. He licked the air, then froze. He locked eyes with Carapace, who gave a slow nod.

Carapace whispered, “Like death in plastic straw form…”

“Brother...I’m scared.”

~~~~~

The four would-be heroes stood outside the changeling hive, looking into a conveniently unguarded hole in the outer wall.

“Well, here we are, lads,” Fancy Pants said. “The changeling queen's changeling hive. Just like Sunburst said in his letter, my magic doesn't seem to work here. I suppose that would be her throne’s dark powers at work.”

“Then it is a good thing that you are the only magic user among us,” Gustave said. “Since you are now useless in other ways, have you at least come up with a plan to help us get through this mission alive and uncaptured?”

Iron Will enthusiastically struck a pose. “Iron Will’s got a plan,” he said as he flexed his muscles. “Break in her home, and break down her throne.”

“Oh, that sounds like an excellent plan,” Gustave said with mock enthusiasm. “To get us all killed! Need I remind you gentlemen that a veritable army of flying, spell-wielding, and frankly disgusting insects stands between us and our prize? We will need a way through them if we wish to succeed where those before us have failed.”

In a sudden burst of movement, Iron Will picked up Gustave and gave the griffin an angry glare.

“The Will is the way,” he said.

Iron Will then tossed Gustave aside and charged forward, braking a hole in the hive wall - right next to the large, perfectly passable hole they were just looking into.

“CHANGELING KINGDOM!” he boomed as soon as he was inside. “Are you ready for what’s about to happen!?”

The air came alive with buzzing as thousands of changelings suddenly homed in on Iron Will’s location. The minotaur was blindly powering through the hive at an incredible speed, but the combination of the volume of his shouting, the strength of his narcissistic self-love, and the massive holes he left in his wake made him easy to track.

As he ran, Iron Will continued his monologue. “Your throne’s stopped unicorns! It’s stopped alicorns! It’s stopped the lord of chaos himself! But there’s one thing it can’t stop, and that thing is the sheer muscled INTENSITY of IRON WILL! And now, Iron Will is coming for YOU!”

Iron Will broke through another wall and ended up in a large open chamber somewhere in the middle of the hive. A squad of changeling guards landed in his path. Without breaking a stride, Iron Will dive tackled the changeling in front, gripped its tail, rolled back to his hooves, then used the bewildered drone as an improvised flail against its companions.

The guards were quickly beaten back by Iron Will’s animalistic assault, but more changelings appeared to take their place. Iron Will tossed aside his battered weapon (which landed with a pained groan) and looked around. He was surrounded on all sides by changelings, with more pouring in from above, and the walls had shifted again to close off all ground-based exits, including the hole he had created when he came in.

Several of the changelings hissed at him and one spoke. “Muscle-bound idiot. You cannot possibly hope to win. We will feast on your love!”

Iron Will cracked his knuckles, loosened his shoulders, and bent down into a charging stance. “You try to feast, I UNLEASH THE BEAST!” he yelled before charging horns-first into the mob.

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Fancy Pants, Gustave, and Fernando were slowly making their way through the hive. Gustave in particular took great pains to avoid every patrol and take every upward path. The hive being reminiscent of a tower, it only made sense that the queen’s room would be found somewhere on the upper levels.

“Do you think it was a good idea to leave him on his own like that?” Fancy Pants asked.

Gustave snorted. “There was no other way. The minotaur’s barbaric exuberance meant that his eventual capture was all but assured. Had we stuck with him, our capture would have been equally likely. At least in this way, he helps us by serving as a meaningful distraction.”

“For how long, though?” Fancy Pants asked.

Gustave pulled Fancy Pants down behind a rock just before a group of changelings flew by. The changelings angled downwards and flew out of the area through a hole in the floor. As the hole closed behind them, Iron Will’s booming voice could be heard.

“Bring on your hive! IRON WILL HAS NEVER FELT SO ALIVE!”

“Long enough, I think,” Gustave replied.

Just then, the sound of hissing erupted from behind them. Fancy Pants and Gustave turned to see another group of changelings coming their way.

“Merde,” Gustave cursed.

~~~~~

Fancy Pants and Gustave ran frantically through the hive, all semblance of stealth lost. The group of changelings chasing them only grew as they moved, and there were many times that the pair was about to run through an opening in the wall only to immediately change direction as more changelings became visible on the other side.

“We can’t keep this up forever, old bean,” Fancy Pants noted.

“Shut up and run, unicorn!” Gustave replied. Fancy Pants’ seeming unflappability was starting to grate on his own nerves.

Fernando, for his part, silently bobbed along in Fancy Pants’ pocket. It was difficult to tell if the straw was lost in thought, quietly fuming, or, in actuality, just being a straw.

Ahead of them, the path split into two in a T-shape with the way directly forward leading to a sheer drop. Behind them, the changelings began firing beams of green energy. While most of the beams seemed to be aimed at the air around the pair (that being the only logical explanation for how badly the changelings appeared to be missing), one managed to land on the floor right between them just as they reached the intersection. The resulting blast knocked the two runners apart on opposite ends and sent Fernando flying out of Fancy Pants’ pocket.

Fernando flipped end-over-end with the practiced grace of a master acrobat before landing perfectly upright on edge of the drop. Upon seeing this, the changelings stopped their pursuit of the other two and hissed warily at him. In both fear and confusion, they gave the small plastic bendy straw a wide berth as they formed a half circle around his position.

“Fernando, NO!” Gustave cried. He made to dive forward towards the only one of his companions that he truly respected.

“Hold fast, Gustave,” Fancy Pants said from the other side of the standoff. “On our own we don’t stand a chance of escaping these Changelings, and you know it. Fernando...he’s giving us that chance now. I think we should honor his wishes.”

“But…” Gustave choked out, tears forming in his eyes. “Mon ami, I cannot...please…”

A slight draft blew through the chasm and twisted Fernando so it appeared as though he was turning to face Gustave. Slowly, the heroic plastic straw began to tip over towards the drop.

“This is your moment, my boy. Grasp it with all your might and never look back,” Fancy Pants whispered.

As though in response, Fernando’s head sank down until it touched his body in one final, resigned nod. Had he eyes, he would have closed them. Had he a voice, he would have uttered one final farewell. Alas, he was a straw, and all he could manage was a low, determined whistle as the draft blew through his openings.

And then he fell.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Gustave cried as the changelings overcame their fear and dived down after Fernando, deeming him the greater threat and ignoring the two others they had been chasing so determinedly moments before.

The mass of changelings jumping down after Fernando seemed endless, but Fancy Pants had noticed that those in the far back had already locked their sights back on their original prey.

“Gustave, we have to go!” Fancy Pants shouted over the buzz of changeling wings.

Gustave did not reply. His face was twisted in an almost comically extreme combination of shock, despair, and outrage. Had the situation not been so dire, Fancy Pants might have snickered.

Instead, he shouted louder, “GUSTAVE!”

That finally caught the griffin’s attention.

Fancy Pants gave Gustave a hard look. “Don't let his sacrifice be in vain.”

Gustave gave a shaky nod, then they both ran in opposite directions.

~~~~~

Fancy Pants ran for quite some time before finally slowing to a stop in an empty corridor with multiple exits. Being surprisingly fit for a stallion of his age and social status, he was not yet tired, but he had lost both his pursuers and his bearings. Determined to regain the latter before the former, Fancy Pants scanned his surroundings for some clue on which way to go.

“Sacrebleu…” a pained voice cried from somewhere up ahead.

Recognizing the voice, Fancy Pants rushed towards the direction it came from. He soon found Gustave sitting down against the wall. The griffin looked like he had been in a bad fight.

As Fancy Pants approached, Gustave looked up at him. “My friend, thank goodness you are here! I accidentally stumbled upon the entrance to Chrysalis’ throne room, but, as you can see, the guards were too much for me alone. Now that you’re here, though, we can save the Princesses together! Help me up, and I will show you the way.”

Fancy Pants started to reach out a hoof to help Gustave, but then hesitated. “How do I know that you are telling the truth?”

Gustave was taken aback. “Why would I lie? Can’t you see the condition I am in? I need your help, Fancy Pants. Please, we must finish this! We cannot let the minotaur’s sacrifice be in vain!”

Fancy Pants took a step back. “Nice try, but you are clearly not Gustave. Otherwise, you would have mentioned - “

“The straw,” another Gustave said, walking out of the shadows. “I left Iron Will, but I would not leave Ferdinand. To think I would want to honor that brute’s sacrifice over the deadly drinking device’s is the height of foolishness. Excellent work spotting the fake, Fancy Pants. Now, let’s get out of here.”

Fancy Pants didn’t move.

“His name was Fernando,” yet another Gustave said as he swooped down from above. “You would do well to remember that, changeling. Honestly, as if some cheap disguise would be enough to fool the noble Sir Fancy Pants! Let’s not waste any more time on these impostors, friend. The queen’s throne is this way.”

Fancy Pants quirked an eyebrow. “You know, at least the other two managed a passable imitation of Gustave’s accent. Yours sounds more Germane than Prench. Embarrassingly amateur, if I do say so myself.”

The first Gustave got up. “Clever pony, but it doesn’t matter.” More Gustaves began to appear. Some looked injured, others tired, and a few just looked ready to pounce. “You’re already caught in our trap. There’s no escape for you, even if you could bring yourself to risk abandoning your companion to the swarm. After all, there’s no way to tell if one of us could be the real Gustave.”

Fancy Pants smirked. “If I were to wager, I’d say it was that one marching confidently in the middle.”

“Hah!” the first Gustave laughed. “None of us are the real Gustave! We’re all changelings, you dumb - ACK!” The impostor Gustave crumpled as a large rock slammed into the back of his head.

“I never really was on your side,” the real Gustave commented as he stepped over the knocked out changeling.

“But...how?!” one of the fake Gustaves exclaimed.

Gustave snorted. “Unlike you disgusting embarrassments to espionage, Monsieur Fancy Pants knows the sharp, piercing eyes of a true alpha predator.”

“Good to see you alive and well, old chap,” Fancy Pants said amiably.

“Now I know I have been in here with you too long,” Gustave replied. “I am starting to feel likewise about you.”

The changelings all dropped their disguises. One armored changeling stepped forward and spoke, “It doesn’t matter! We’ve still got them cornered! Capture them, so the hive may feed!”

“Ho ho ho ho!” Gustave laughed menacingly. “You wish to feed, do you? Then have a taste of my specialty Eclair Flares!”

Gustave produced several dozen eclairs and chucked them at the changelings’ faces. Each eclair scattered in a spray of viscous filling upon impact, causing the changelings to hiss and wipe at their eyes, but otherwise seeming to do little actual harm.

“You call us disgusting?” one of the changelings said as it tried to wipe away bits of eclair. “What do you put in these things?”

“Oh nothing much,” Gustave replied. “Just chocolate, cream,” - he pulled out a lighter - “and propane.”

“Wait, what?” the changeling managed to say just before Gustave tossed the lighter in his direction.

The changeling caught fire immediately and began screaming and running around, inadvertently spreading the flame to the other eclair-coated changelings.

“Oh dear, I’ve made quite a mess,” Gustave said lightly. He turned to Fancy Pants. “As unlikely as it may seem, the changelings were not lying: the throne room is not far from here. I found it before I saw these impostors heading in this direction.”

A changeling tried to fly at the pair. Gustave nonchalantly threw an eclair into it’s face. This eclair exploded on impact and sent the changeling crashing into his burning peers.

“Most of her guards are out here now, so the way forward should be clear. You must hurry before security tightens again,” Gustave continued.

“What about you?” Fancy Pants asked.

“I will hold here to keep them off your flank,” Gustave replied. “But don’t get the wrong idea, unicorn. I am not doing this for you. I am doing this for my friend. For Fernando.”

Fancy Pants saw the fire in Gustave’s eyes as he said the straw’s name. “Good luck, Le Grand,” Fancy Pants said with a nod. “Don’t let them feed on you.”

As Fancy Pants took off down the hall, Gustave turned back towards the changelings. The fires were starting to go out and they appeared to be regrouping for a massive assault. Though he was out of eclairs to throw, Gustave smiled.

“Don’t fret, Fancy Pants,” he said as he readied his talons. “I am about to introduce the changelings to a revolutionary new diet” - he dived towards the mob - “called death!”

~~~~~

Fancy Pants walked into the throne room unannounced and unopposed. Above him, the most powerful beings in Equestria hung in their slimy cells. In front of him, the magic-negating throne of Queen Chrysalis loomed - foreboding, but empty. Behind him, Queen Chrysalis stood unnoticed.

Fancy Pants stopped midway across the room and looked around. Seeing nopony, he adjusted his monocle - which had somehow survived the adventure without a scratch - and examined the throne. “Huh. What with all the hubbub, I figured it would be...glowy-er.”

Chrysalis sent him flying a few meters with a solid buck to the barrel.

“So the last of the pests has made it to the prize. Congratulations. You are so close, but I’m afraid your little rescue attempt ends here!” Chrysalis exclaimed.

Fancy Pants picked himself up off the ground and brushed what dirt he could off of his suit. It was futile, he knew, but one must at least try to be presentable before royalty.

“And Good Evening to you as well, Your Highness,” he said conversationally.

“I’ll admit your little group of unimportant side-characters has done far more than I ever anticipated, but the outcome was never in question. My changeling army is simply too numerous - too deadly - to be overcome without magic!” Chrysalis continued, ignoring Fancy Pants’ apparent lack of terror. She knew the hopelessness of his situation would dawn on him in time. She just needed to expound more - to explain to the ingrate precisely why he and all like him would lose, and why she and her changelings would conquer all.

“Your friends were strong and crafty and surprisingly dangerous, true, but it’s over. It’s all over! As we speak my changelings are wrapping them in cocoons - just like your heroes up there - and with them out of the way, Equestria will finally be mine! Accept your fate, pony! Accept your new queen!” Chrysalis said then laughed her best victory laugh. The one she’d been practicing for just such an occasion. At the time, she figured she’d be using it over the defeated forms of the princesses or those pesky elements of harmony, but given that they’d been captured without so much as a fight, now was as good of an opportunity as ever.

Fancy Pants politely waited for her to finish. As her laughter awkwardly died down, he cleared his throat and said, “So you haven’t actually captured the others yet? Curious.”

In a flash of anger, Chrysalis used her magic to grab Fancy Pants and throw him again. She repeated the action as she continued to monologue.

“Fool! Did you not hear what I said? Or does your weak little heart refuse to accept the truth? Your friends have been defeated! They have been captured! They will be fed upon! They...they just aren’t...quite...here yet. But they will be! Mark my words!”

Fancy Pants was slammed into a wall. As Chrysalis took a break from tossing him about to enter into another bout of evil laughter, he picked himself back up and examined his suit. It was definitely ruined now. Pity. He would have to order another one from the Canterlot Haberdashery when this whole mess was finished.

“Consider them marked, my dear,” he said, fixing his mane back into place with a swoop of his hoof. “Now then, if you would be so kind as to -” he stopped suddenly as he saw his monocle on the floor by Chrysalis hooves. He patted himself down with uncharacteristic panic then looked back to the monocle lying on the cold, unforgiving hive floor.

Chrysalis followed his gaze and smiled wickedly. She raised her hoof over the monocle. “Drop something, Fancy Pants? Something...important?”

“Let’s not do anything rash. We can settle this like reasonable -”

*CRACK*

The monocle shattered as Chrysalis brought her hoof down on it. She gave a mock gasp.

“Oh my!” she said with obviously feigned dismay. “Did I do that? I am so sorry. You know you really should be more careful about where you leave these things!” She cackled again.

Fancy Pants’ face lost all expression. That monocle had been a gift from Fleur on their wedding day. He didn’t need it to actually see, but she said it gave him a more sophisticated look - precisely the image he needed to distance himself from his troubled past. She had made him promise to always wear it, and he always had. Years of memories, a whole life, were built around that monocle. To this day it was still the first thing Fleur checked him for in the morning. He had always cared for it. Not once had he lost it, or scratched it, or let any harm come to it through his day-to-day. And Chrysalis had crushed it. Just like that.

“Walk away,” he said softly.

“What was that?” Chrysalis asked. “I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of my ultimate victory! Hahahahaha!”

“Walk away,” Fancy Pants said, louder this time. “Let go of your prisoners, call off your soldiers, and just walk away.”

“And just why would I do that?” Chrysalis asked.

“Because this is the last chance you’re going to get,” Fancy Pants answered.

Chrysalis broke into a fit of laughter. She struggled to speak between breaths. “Are you - haha! - are you - *breathe* - actually threatening me? Hahahahaha!”

As Chrysalis laughed, Fancy Pants methodically took off his suit. He unbuttoned his cuffs, took off his coat, undid his bowtie - piece by piece, the elaborate, expensive clothing came off, revealing the shockingly athletic body beneath.

As the last piece fell to the ground, Fancy Pants locked eyes with Chrysalis - who had now mostly recovered from her hysterics - and asked, “I take it that’s a no?”

Chrysalis grinned. “Definitely no.”

Fancy Pants cracked his neck. “Then let’s throw down, wench.”

“Oh enough of this,” Chrysalis said dismissively. She fired a powerful bolt of magic at Fancy Pants and smiled in satisfaction as the smoke rose from the resulting crater.

Fancy Pants’ forehoof connected with the side of her head.

“Wha?” Chrysalis asked, reeling. “But you were -”

Fancy Pants struck again - a solid jab to her throat - causing whatever she was about to say to come out as a pained gurgle.

“Ponies think that I’m soft, that all I know is the easy life,” Fancy Pants said in an even tone. He was on his hind legs now, with both forehooves put up in front of his face. “Few enough know about the things that had to be done to earn it. Fewer still know that it was me who did them.”

He sidestepped another magic bolt. Chrysalis witnessed the maneuver this time, but could still scarcely believe the stallion was that fast. Fancy Pants closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye and connected a solid hook to Chrysalis’ face.

“Champion fighter? Feared brawler? No, Fancy Pants is too nice for that” - he sidestepped a horn thrust and countered with a blow to the barrel - “Too civil.”

He followed-up with a three hit combo that left Chrysalis backpedaling desperately.

“They can’t make the connection. Can’t figure that I am the ripper” - left hook- “tearer” - right hook - “slasher” - right hook - “gouger” - uppercut - “that I am the talons in the night” - drop down to all fours - “the teeth in the darkness” - dodge to right flank and swivel into bucking position - “that mine is strength” - right buck - “and lust” - left buck - “and power!” - double buck sends Chrysalis flying.

Fancy Pants charged after his opponent, his voice rising to a fevered pitch as he screamed, “That I. AM. FANCY-”

“ENOUGH!” Chrysalis yelled. She sent out a wave of magic that knocked the berserk unicorn onto his back. She flew up out of his reach and bombarded him with bolt after bolt of energy.

Fancy Pants was able to dodge the first few attacks, and even made to take cover behind the throne, but was struck by a stray bolt before he could do so. He was sent sprawling and many more bolts slammed into his prone form before Chrysalis deemed it safe enough to land again. She was panting from both the beating she had just received, and the sudden exertion of magical strength she had required to get out of it.

Fancy Pants started moving again.

Frustration welled up in Chrysalis. “It was just a monocle!” she shouted. She got airborne once again and let her voice ring through the hive. “CHANGELINGS! YOUR QUEEN SUMMONS YOU!”

After a few moments, changelings began to pour in from the entrances. There were quite a number of them, but still far less than Chrysalis had been expecting.

“Where are the others?” she demanded.

A few more changelings ran into the throne room, panicking. The wall behind them exploded, and every changeling in the vicinity fired at the opening, resulting in quite the light show. When the smoke cleared, a single figure stepped forward.

“Been skipping your minerals? ‘Cause you look like you need a double dose of IRON!” Iron Will announced, then struck another pose. The minotaur was visibly bruised and dirty, but he had lost none of his enthusiasm.

Chrysalis stared slack-jawed. “But...but...how?!”

“You don’t need a seminar to know that!” Iron Will said. “Pegasi mastered rain, but Iron Will mastered PAIN! If you think for a moment that any changeling can match the INTENSITY of Iron Will, then YOU GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!”

Chrysalis turned to the other changelings. “Don’t just stand there, you fools! Seize him!”

The first changeling to make a move towards Iron Will was struck in the back of the head by the changeling behind him. The changeling then reached towards his face and pulled away a crude cardboard mask, revealing himself as Gustave Le Grand. “Sorry to pop-in unannounced,” he said.

The changelings nearby gasped in shock. “Carapace was a spy!” one of them exclaimed.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Chrysalis said.

“Clearly, you overestimate the intelligence of your pathetic little drones,” Gustave said.

Chrysalis let out a cry of anger. “You mean to tell me that none of you were captured?”

“Oh, we would have been,” Gustave replied. “Alone...isolated...your changelings would have overwhelmed us eventually. But we were not alone, now were we, minotaur?”

Iron Will huffed. “Iron Will just needed a little break, is all. Iron Will could have handled it.”

“You had help?” Chrysalis asked incredulously. “But who could have possibly helped you?”

The sound of cracking stone rang out from behind Chrysalis, and she turned to find her throne in ruins. On top of the pile of shattered rock was a small plastic bendy straw. It was bent malignantly in her direction.

“You’re kidding,” Chrysalis said, dumbfounded. “You’re kidding, right?”

She turned back to the crowd to find her changelings fleeing the sight of the drinking straw. Fancy Pants, who had recovered from her assault and now stood beside his companions, was using his magic to free the prisoners trapped on the ceiling of the throne room.

As the heroes of Equestria recovered from their ordeal, Gustave spoke again, “May I make a suggestion? Run.”

Chrysalis turned and blasted an exit out of her hive. As she flew off into the distance, Iron Will grabbed Twilight Sparkle and pointed her horn-first at the escaping changeling queen.

“You try to run, I get a gun!” he exclaimed.

Luna put a hoof on Iron Will’s shoulder. “Let her go, brave minotaur,” she said. “We have had enough silliness for one day.”

Iron Will disappointedly put down the bewildered Princess of Friendship.

As this was happening, the freed ponies (and draconequus) had begun to celebrate their freedom. Fernando was engaged in a particularly exuberant reunion with Pinkie Pie. Gustave looked on, a tired, but smug smile on his face. He had never seen his friend so happy before.

Celestia approached Fancy Pants, who was hunched over the remains of his monocle. Seeing his distress, she lifted his face with her hoof. “Fret not, my little pony. It is not beyond repair.”

Celestia’s horn glowed and the shattered monocle was repaired in a flash of golden magic. Fancy Pants broke into tears of joy as he took the small glass eyepiece in his hoof.

“Thank you, Princess! Thank you! Oh -”

Celestia raised a hoof to stop him. “No need for that, Fancy Pants. I know how much it means to you. Compose yourself now. We must, after all, keep up appearances, no?” she said with a wink.

Fancy Pants sniffed and stood. He replaced the monocle on his face and was once more the noble, unflappable Canterlot stallion he was known to be. “Yes...yes, quite right, Princess. My apologies. I appear to have lost control for a moment there. It shan’t happen again. You have my word.”

“Unless, of course, Equestria needs you to, my little pony,” Celestia said, smiling.

“Perhaps. Though if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather leave the hero work to those more suited to it,” Fancy Pants replied. “More capable, too. That reminds me, how did they manage to capture all of you again? By all counts, the changelings didn’t seem all that powerful, even if I do say so myself.”

Celestia’s expression turned serious. “They turned to the most dangerous and forbidden of the dark arts, Fancy Pants. They sent ninjas.”

“Ninjas, Your Highness?”

“Ninjas.”