Filly Stew

The Cutie Mark Crusaders were stuck in a dark corner, their limbs immovable due to the strength of the rope. They watched in fearful silence as the Ogre set up the large cauldron and filled it with water. Then he entered another room in his cabin and placed mold-covered vegetables on a wooden table. Sweetie Belle caught a glimpse of them, and felt an unpleasant reaction in the bottom of her stomach.

Scootaloo turned her head to look at a nearby window. The rain seemed to slow down but the sky was still dark. There was a flash of lightning and a low rumble of thunder. She gazed at the Ogre as he tried to start a fire using sticks and rocks. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Ogres were real, and a real one was right in front of them. Neither of them had seen one before, and sadly this will be the only time they will see one alive.

The Ogre grunted and groaned as he tried to light a fire, but grew frustrated. “I’ll be right back,” he said, although he turned back and said in a joking manner, “Don’t go anywhere,” and left the room.

With the Ogre out of the room, Scootaloo took what was a good moment to talk to her friends. “This is really bad,” she said, her voice trembling. “What are we going to do?” she whispered.

“What do you mean we?” said Apple Bloom sharply. “You were the one that got us into this mess! It’s all your fault!”

“How is it my fault? You were the one that wanted to lead the way!”

“Well, if only if you hadn’t stolen that stupid treasure map, we never would have got ourselves eaten by a dang ogre!”

“No, it’s my fault,” Sweetie sighed. “I was the one who found the cabin. I didn’t know an ogre was living here. It’s my fault we’re being eaten,” she said, almost weeping.

“You were only trying to help,” Apple Bloom said, “unlike some other pony I know.”

“Whenever something bad happens you always blame me!” Scootaloo said sharply. “Don’t act like you never made a mistake before!”

“Will you two stop fighting?” Sweetie pleaded. “This is going to be our last moments together! Just this once will you act like you care?”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo fell silent. Sweetie Belle realized that no matter what will happen to them, those two will always find time to pass the blame on each other instead of focusing on what mattered the most. She brought her head down and waited to be the Ogre’s next meal. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo just sat there, waiting with her. Footsteps pounded the floors, and the Ogre returned with that foul stench and a box of matches. He lit one and cast it into the pile of sticks beneath the cauldron, but it let out. He cursed under his breath and lit another one, and to his annoyance it became weak and flicked away. The Ogre lit multiple matches until he became frustrated.

“I’ll be right back,” the Ogre said. “I’m getting a jar of dragon spit. It’ll make the fire stronger.”

“That’s gross,” Scootaloo muttered.

A moment later the Ogre returned with a jar of dragon spit and poured it into the fire wood and sticks. The substance filled the cabin with a terrible stench, so much so than the foul smell coming from the Ogre himself. He lit a match and casted into into the spit-covered wood, and a fire was ablaze. Unfortunately, the fire made the smell of the spit even worse. The Cutie Mark Crusaders tried to hold themselves down from becoming nauseous.

“The water will come to a boil soon,” the Ogre said. “Now it’s the choice of who will I’ll eat first.” He brought his to each of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, examining them one after another. It hadn’t realized it until now, but he had three of each - a unicorn, a pegasus, and an earth pony. That never happened before, and it probably will not happen again. One will have to admit that it was a difficult decision. Just looking at the young fillies made his mouth water. “I think,” he said, looking at either one of them, “I’ll start with the earth pony first. Then I’ll sink my teeth into the pegasus. And finally, the unicorn, the delicious beast of them all. How’s that for a full course meal?”

Sweetie shuddered and wrinkled her face by what the Ogre said about unicorns. She was glad that Rarity will never have to meet him anytime soon. Then she remembered Rarity will never see her again. Tears flowed from Sweetie’s eyes at that horrible thought.

“Don’t cry, little one,” the Ogre mocked. “Soon you’ll be dead, and you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Please don’t eat us,” said Sweetie. “We’re only kids. We haven’t even gotten our cutie marks yet. Please let us go.”

“I can’t let perfectly good ponies go. That’ll be a waste of food, and I’m very hungry,” said the Ogre.

Scootaloo gazed at the fire under the cauldron. She had no idea if the water was boiling, and if it was, they were in deep trouble. She thought of something, anything that will bring out the Ogre’s better nature. She closed her eyes, also blocking Sweetie’s pleas and whimpers. After searching deep within herself Scootaloo opened her eyes.

“Mister Ogre, how about we make a deal?” she said.

“A deal? What can puny ponies like give to me?”

“Well, I was thinking… maybe we can entertain you before we turn into your meals.”

“Entertain me? How so?”

Scootaloo gulped. Hopefully it will work. “Do you like stories? We can tell you stories.” She heard Apple Bloom questioning her actions, and she was immediately silenced. “We have a bunch of stories to tell, we can all tell you some of them.”

“I hate stories, especially pony stories! They’re boring and put me to sleep!” the Ogre spat.

“But ours are not like others,” said Scootaloo. “They’re really good. If each of us can tell you a good story, will you let us go?”

“I can’t make that promise,” the Ogre said. “I found you, and I will eat you. Ogres don’t like to wait for their food.”

“Please,” begged Scootaloo. “We deserve to be eaten, not just yet. We have our whole lives ahead of us. If we can keep you entertained with our stories, and you like them, will you let us go free?”

The Ogre stroked his greasy chin with his thumb and index finger. “I’m not easily entertained, unless someone is dying horribly, and then I eat them.”

Scootaloo gave the Ogre the cutest, pleading eyes she could gave him. He tried to fight it, but it was no use. She was going to keep staring at him until the Ogre made his decision. Finally, he threw his arms in the air.

“Alright. Okay. You three will tell me stories, all of you. If I enjoy all of them, I will let you go. If I do not, you will be thrown into that cauldron.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Scootaloo.

“They better be good… or else.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle gave Scootaloo questioning and bewildered looks. Scootaloo gave them a reassuring half-smile, but to them it wasn’t reassuring enough. The Ogre dragged a chair and placed in front of the fillies and sat on it, and lighted a pipe, grumbling to himself about making stupid deals with food. The cabin was silent, save for the occasional rumble of thunder and a gust of wind, and a few rain drops on the ceiling. The fillies and the Ogre exchanged unnerving gazes to each other.

“So… who is going first?” he roared. “I don’t have all day!”

The fierceness of his voice started them, and they glanced at each other. It was obvious none of them wanted to go first, but the Ogre was tapping his foot on the wooden floor. “Well?” he said again. The Cutie Mark Crusaders brought their heads together, and the Ogre groaned.

“What do we do? We don’t know any stories,” whispered Sweetie Belle.

“Thanks for getting us eaten,” added Apple Bloom.

“We’re not going to get eaten,” said Scootaloo. “Just make something up, no matter how ridiculous it is. We’ve been through so many things that’ll make for great stories. Just exaggerate a little.”

“I’m not a good storyteller,” said Sweetie Belle. “I’m gonna die,” she cried.

“No you’re not! Just tell the story as you go! It’s easy!”

The fillies looked back at the Ogre, who grew very impatient. With no other choice to be made, Apple Bloom sighed.

“I guess I’ll go first.”

She was silent for a moment. The Ogre said he hated stories because they were boring, so she figured he didn’t want to hear the same ones they have heard, if he hadn’t already. The Ogre stared at her. He seemed interested, but Apple Bloom couldn’t tell. He held his head with his wrist, as in boredom, be he stared at her either way. She pushed down the lump in her throat and continued, and finally began her tale.

“Well… I think I should tell you all about the time me and a armadillo went into the music business.” She couldn’t believe those words came from her lips, but there was no turning back. Make it up as you go, says Scootaloo, she she did. “It all began when he came rolling by the farm one summer afternoon…”