Reservoir Ponies

by howandwhy

Rating: everyone
Tags: Gilda, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Comedy
Length: 5332

Like Reservoir Dogs. Only 20% cooler.

Like Reservoir Dogs. Only 20% cooler.

A parody of Quentin Tarantino's classic movie Reservoir Dogs, Reservoir Ponies is the story of six mares united for one job; to pull off a daring gem heist in the middle of Ponyville! Things don't go as planned, however, and one question remains; who is to blame?

Please note, this is a blatant parody. While it closely apes the events and sometimes the dialogue of the source material, the excessive violence and language has been removed to make it enjoyable for all.

Published 2012-07-01 07:34:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-07-01 07:34:02 UTC

Act One

howandwhy Presents
An Equestria Studios Production

RESERVOIR PONIES
Act One of Three

‘Like A Filly is a song about a unicorn with a big horn.’

The busy atmosphere of Sugarcube Corner swam around the seven diners, filling the small shop with the murmur of dozens of muted conversations. Still, it was a peaceful, easy morning bustle and the blue pegasus did not have to raise her voice. She confidently tossed her brightly-coloured mane and the soft morning light caught its simple spectrum as it fell into place with well-honed precision. The suit she wore was identical to that of the others, a clean, crisp white shirt beneath a jacket of pure black. The matching black tie completed the ensemble; simple and efficient. It had not been Miss Blue’s choice, of course, but such a decision was not hers to make.

‘What are ya talkin' about?’ a pony across the table asked. Her coat was the colour of the setting sun and her clear, green eyes were narrowed beneath an old hat of tough leather. ‘I got all 'a Sapphire Shores' albums and I ain't never heard anything like that! Yer jus’ talkin’ a big load ‘a hooey.’

Miss Blue smirked confidently and swept her rainbow-hued mane away from her eyes. ‘Oh, the message is in there all right, you just gotta listen hard. It's got all the right lyrics to make it a totally epic story in its own right but 'ya never listen because the beat is just way too awesome! A lot of her music’s like that. ‘Course, I do have a good ear for this stuff.’

Miss Orange quirked a brow sceptically. ‘Message? How d'ya figure that? Half the words're just about shakin' yer flank.’

It was pointless arguing with her, Orange knew. The pegasus had been arrogant from the very beginning. Even now as she reclined casually in her chair, picking the remnants of her breakfast from her teeth with a fresh toothpick, Miss Blue retained a certain air of smug superiority. It would be enough to get on Orange’s nerves under normal circumstances, but those were far from normal today. Orange shrugged, her thick blonde ponytail shifting across her shoulders with the motion. Once the day’s work was over it would not matter. Beside her, another pegasus spoke, her voice a squeak that strained to be heard over the clinks and rattles of the waiter’s trays.

‘Um...I like her older work,’ Miss Yellow said. Her lustrous pink mane bobbed gently and her eyes turned down guiltily, as if the act of speaking would be seen as an intrusion by the others. ‘I especially liked Material Mare, but after Who’s That Pony, I believe she became a little too mainstream...um…at least, that is to say, too mainstream for my tastes.’

To Miss Blue’s left, a white unicorn stirred. Her violet mane was in impeccable condition and almost glowed in the soupy light filtering through the café windows as it swirled in delicate loops around her. Her eyelashes were large and dark, and framed her sapphire irises like fine, artful portraits. Miss White’s voice flowed easily over the timid Miss Yellow’s, carrying across the café with eloquent ease.

‘Indeed, but her fashion sense has only improved as time's gone by. I mean, did you see the shoulder pads they were sporting in those days? Simply dreadful!’

Across the table sat the final pair of ponies, each flanking a short, squat figure.

Miss Purple tapped a hoof on the table, clearly irritated by a stream of quiet mumbling coming from the small, green-fringed dragon to her right. Her dark mane, striped with pink, parted to reveal the long, straight point of her horn which glowed faintly as she magically raised a cup of tea to her lips.

‘Huh, I wonder where...’ the dragon muttered absently as he rifled through a sheaf of dusty old letters. ‘Where did I put that last one, I know it was here somewhere. It was from a pony out west, what was his name...Bradley? Barnaby?’

Grinning meekly and unaware of the dragon’s rambling, Miss Yellow continued. ‘Oh but I always thought Like A Filly was such a nice song. It reminded me of a clear summer's day, filled with wonderful singing birds and little baby bunnies-’

‘Seriously, stop with the 'B' words, already.’ Miss Purple groaned, caught between the two.

A few of them chuckled as the conversation flowed smoothly around the table. Some of the ponies knew one another by association but the dragon, Spike, was the force that had brought them together for that one day. It was to be a day that would decide their futures, one that would make them all wealthy beyond imagining and the excitement among them, though unspoken, was palpable nonetheless. The chatter did more than while away the remaining minutes of calm before their task forced them onwards. It eased them all, purging the tension from their minds and allowing them to focus on what was to come.

‘Okay, okay,’ Blue cut in, waving her hooves to shush everyone around her, ‘lemme explain. Like A Filly ain't about some nice pony that falls in love with a handsome stallion and they gallop off into the sunset. That's what Who's That Mare’s about. No, no, Like a Filly's about this unicorn outta Manehattan and I'm tellin' ya, she has the horn the size of a dragon's tooth!’

‘Oh my,’ Yellow cringed, ‘that sounds awfully inconvenient.’

‘Naw, it just sounds plain awful.’ Miss Orange muttered under her breath before sipping her tea.

‘And lemme tell ya,’ said Blue, ignoring their remarks, ‘the magical power in this thing, this horn, could turn Fillydelphia upside down. So as she grows up she’s scared of what she could end up doing with it, she’s afraid that this totally messed up power could put a hole in the Earth! Not only that but everybody around her is scared; they think she’s this totally freaky, uber-powerful Nightmare Moon kinda girl. The other fillies made fun of her in school, it made her insecure, you know how it is.’ Miss Blue paused to see everyone was still with her, and tactically ignored the bored glances thrown between them. ‘Then one day, in comes this black pegasus and she's like 'whoa!' I mean, there's only ever been a few of those to ever come outta Cloudsdale anyway but right away it’s like he doesn’t even notice the size of her horn. He talks to her like any normal pony, totally accepting her amazingly powerful magic and freaky massive horn. She's scared, but happy. This guy makes her feel just like she was as a filly coming out into the big, wide world all those years ago; hence 'Like a Filly'.’

Silence descended on the group and the hum of background noise trickled steadily into their senses once more. A couple of the ponies looked at one another with something approaching gratitude until Spike finally looked up from his letters.

‘Braeburn?’

Miss Purple’s hoof shot out, snatching the letters from his hand.

‘Okay, that’s enough,’ she snapped irritably. ‘I’m sick of it, Spike, you can have the letters back after breakfast when we leave.’

Spike frowned and rose from his seat, his short stature bringing him to Purple’s shoulders. ‘What d’ya mean when we leave? Give them back now!’

‘For the last twenty minutes I’ve been forced to hear you drone on and on about names,’ Purple argued. The letters crinkled noisily as she shoved them under her bottom, safe from Spike’s stubby, prying fingers and her eyes turned up in a joking impression of the young dragon. ‘Barney? Barney? Barnaby? Baloney?’ Fits of muffled laughter began to squeak from the other side of the table as she went on. ‘I’ve got Nightmare Moon’s giant horn coming out of my left ear and Braeburn…I don’t know what coming out of my right!’

Another voice spoke and eyes turned to the pony who had barely said a word all morning. Miss Pink looked up from her breakfast, her lips lined with icing and cake crumbs.

‘Hey, Spike,’ she said in a high, cheerful voice, ‘you want me to throw a party for this gal?’

Purple glanced at her coolly. ‘I’m not a fan of parties.’

Pink shrugged and went back to her meal while Spike cleared his throat. ‘Okay, I’ll pick up the tab for this one. It’s the least I can do. And you,’ he said, eyeing Purple closely, ‘when I get back I want my letters?’

‘Are you going to put them away?’ she asked, her tone dripping with mock condescension.

‘I’m going to do whatever I want with them!’

Purple raised her brows. ‘Well then, I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep them!’

Another bout of chuckling hit the group and Spike turned to Pink. ‘Hey, I changed my mind. Go ahead and throw a party for this one, will ya?’

The joke sent a ripple of laughter through them and Pink winked mischievously at Purple. The mood was light and they felt the confidence running hot through their veins. It would be a good day’s work and the feeling was echoed in their buoyant stride as they left Sugarcube Corner, each pony donning a pair of shades in tandem as they strolled casually towards their destination.

***

The door to the barn flew open with a crack and the thick wood shuddered with the impact, the crimson paint cracking as it met the wall behind it. Another noise rose to compete; the high, anguished cry of Miss Orange as she limped through the doorway. One hoof lay drooping at her side and her body was slumped against Miss Purple as the unicorn struggled with the weight.

‘Come on, stay with me!’ Purple cried out. She was breathing heavily as she laid her friend to rest next to a hay bale, exhausted with both the effort of carrying her as well as the draining worry that ate at her mind. The earthy smell of fresh straw entered her nostrils, doing much to banish the stale odour of terrified sweat that had dominated her senses for so long.

Orange murmured something but her words were lost to pain, turning them instead into a slurry noise that Purple could not understand. Her eyes were half-lidded, wandering constantly while barely seeing anything around her. Leaving her for a moment, Purple straightened to take in her surroundings.

‘They’re not here,’ she whispered. ‘Are we really the first to get back?’

‘Ah ain’t surprised,’ Orange hissed through clenched teeth. Her eyes were closed tightly and every breath was an effort. ‘Figures that nopony’d be here. Ah don’t even know if the others got out ‘part from Blue.’

Purple’s brow twitched for a moment at the thought of their companion but she quickly pushed the memory aside as her mind worked to find a path out of their predicament.

‘It’s okay,’ she said, forcing strength into her voice. ‘It’s okay, we just wait here for them to show up. There’s no need to panic and Spike’ll be here for sure, any time now.’

Orange snorted. ‘That’s if he hasn’t just high-tailed it outta here like a stampedin’ steer.’

‘He wouldn’t do that, I know him,’ Purple argued. ‘It’s all right, the Princess’ guards won’t know to look for us here, even if they have caught the others. If we just wait patiently the-’

‘Twilight...’

Purple froze instinctively as her real name entered her ears and she looked down shakily at Orange. The other pony trembled as she sat with her back to the hay bale. Her broken front hoof lay cradled in her other and the agony was etched into every recess of her features. Purple ached to look on it and her dark eyes shimmered as Orange continued.

‘Mah hoof is broken, Twilight, and I need to go to a hospital. I remember what we talked about ‘n all but it’s broken, I know it. Fact is, without medical attention, I’m gonna go lame.’

The words shook Purple and she knelt at Orange’s side to run a hoof through her mane comfortingly.

‘I won’t tell them a thing, ya hear?’ Orange said, her voice a mere pain-cracked whisper. ‘I won’t tell them anything!’

Miss Purple mulled it over for a moment before her lips widened into a placating smile. It was not an option for any of them and her tone was low as she responded.

‘You’re not going to go lame, alright? It’s a known fact that along with acute laminitis, a fracture of the hoof is one of the most painful things anypony can suffer but it takes a very long time to go lame from it! I’m talking weeks. You’ll wish you were hobbled, but...’ she paused and smiled gratefully as Orange chuckled beneath her strained panting. ‘...but it takes a long time to go lame from your wound; time is on your side-’

A loud crack interrupted her and Purple blinked as white sunlight flared across her face.

‘My, my, what a dreadful set-up that was!’ the newcomer to the barn shouted indignantly.

Miss White slammed the door shut and picked her way across the dimly-lit space, unconsciously steering clear of the more obvious patches of mud dotting the ground.

‘Oh dear,’ she remarked as she approached. ‘Is that Miss Orange? Is she...?’

‘She’s alright, a broken hoof, that’s all. Once Spike gets here then he can get her to a doctor and she’ll be okay.’

The words seemed more for herself than White and the pale unicorn shook her head. ‘I don’t believe this, this is the worst thing that could happen; the worst. Possible. Thing. Isn’t it just the worst thing?’

‘As opposed to the best thing?’ Purple snapped irately. Orange’s laboured panting had grown silent and gentle, and the warm puffs of breath against Purple’s skin were now steadier and less erratic.

‘She’s unconscious,’ Purple murmured. Gently, she laid her friend on the cold ground and her scuffed, battered suit crinkled against the weight. Purple looked on her for a few painful moments before glancing up at White. With a curt tilt of her head, she motioned towards a nearby door and rose to her feet, White closely in tow as they entered.

The storeroom was cool and dark, and both ponies stretched their tired muscles. Purple had not realised how hot the day had become and she drew water into a rusted sink with almost gleeful anticipation before sinking her face into the blissful cold.

‘I knew something was wrong about this job from the very beginning,’ White groaned as she paced the room. ‘From the very moment Spike had us wear all-black suits I said to myself “such a lack of fashion sense can only be a bad omen” and sure enough, here we are. So far, you’re the only ponies I’ve seen. We have no idea where Spike or the others are and even if they’re alive, if I were them I would chip a hoof trying to get as far away from this mess as I could.’

‘So why didn’t you?’

White grinned wearily, a grin born of the exhaustion that comes after narrowly avoiding mortal danger. ‘I got the gems.’

Slowly, Purple looked up from the sink. Water ran down her face in glistening rivers and her mane clung to the side of her head in a dark, shining mass. Gradually, her lips spread to match her companion’s smug expression. Striding forward, she clasped her hooves around White’s snout and chuckled lightly.

‘Brilliant, just brilliant. Where?’

‘I stashed them. On the way here,’ said White as she shifted uncomfortably between the moist hooves. ‘I say we wait a little longer to see if Spike arrives and if not then we just take off. I certainly know I won’t be sorry to leave this awful place.’

Purple’s expression soured somewhat and returned to the sink, using the opportunity to wipe the day’s grime from her face. Gentle sloshing filled the air as she washed, enjoying the refreshing touch of the water on her skin. Behind her, Miss White continued to ramble, her anxiety leaking out as the words tumbled from her lips in a torrent.

‘I just keep going through what happened in my mind. It was one ghastly event after another, and each one leads me to believe there’s a rat among us. I mean, there we were, gathering the gems then before I know it twenty of Princess Celestia’s personal guard shows up! I know the response times, it takes at least twenty minutes to fly here from Canterlot but they must have been waiting for us because the instant that alarm was pulled they were there in the blink of an eye!’

‘It was all a blur back then. I don’t want to believe it,’ replied Miss Purple, ‘but you may have a point. Are you sure the alarm went off before they arrived?’

‘All I know is that when I turned my head, the guards were there. That’s how I know we were set up, my dear! And then there was Miss Pink...’ White broke off for a moment to quash a sudden urge to shudder. ‘What was wrong with her? The second the alarm went off she started to...’

Purple bore the memories in silence and shook the water from her head, sending sparkling drops in all directions as her violet-striped mane dropped wetly across her face. Above the basin stood a large mirror, filthy with encrusted dirt and large cracks.

Purple’s own reflection shocked her. Only that morning, before setting out for Sugarcube Corner, she had seen a bright-eyed, sharp young unicorn that was ready for whatever would come. Now she looked haggard and exhausted, and only a burning determination held together the splintered tatters of her thoughts.

‘Sometimes I think I must be jinxed,’ she muttered under her breath.

White’s ears pricked at the remark. ‘What do you mean?’

Glancing briefly over her shoulder, Purple hesitated. She did not mean to be overheard and even to recite the past threatened to deepen the curse she feared. After several long moments of silence, she wiped the water from her brow and began.

‘A few years back I pulled a similar job in Fillydelphia. It was a bank. Myself and four other ponies. The Canterlot guards were waiting for us when we tried to leave, just like today at the gem store. It turned out one of the crew was an undercover guard.’

‘Good grief,’ White muttered.

Purple continued to stare into her fractured reflection. ‘I had to do several years’ community service because of him, working as a glorified librarian in a dusty old Canterlot reliquary. That was where I met Spike, actually.’
White let out a disgruntled snort. ‘And now we’re in danger of the very same thing. I knew I should have simply walked away, I should’ve listened to my instincts but no...now I’m stuck here waiting for Spike, not knowing what the devil is going on!’ She struck out, knocking over a pile of farming tools, sending them to the floor with a loud clatter. ‘I knew I should have fled the moment I realised we had a rat in the house.’

The noise shook Purple from her reverie and she cast a worried glance back to the door, worried the clamour would disturb the slumbering Miss Orange. When she spoke again, her tone was hushed.

‘Who could it be?’

White shrugged. ‘It could be anypony. We don’t know what happened to Miss Yellow, or Blue?’

‘It can’t be Blue,’ Purple replied morosely. ‘Not after what happened to her.’

‘Well, fair enough, but that leaves everyone who isn’t here. Pink? Spike?’ Miss White caught the flash of denial in Purple’s eyes and continued; intent on making her point. ‘Look, Spike set this whole thing up on behalf of his boss, perhaps-’

‘No,’ Purple interrupted forcefully. ‘I’ve known Spike for years, ever since he was an egg, and there’s no way he would have had anything to do with this.’

‘Hey, I’ve known Spike for a long time as well,’ White argued back as she ambled back and forth across the room, allowing her companion room to smooth her mane back into place. ‘And to say for certain that he could not betray us is simply naïve. The only pony I can speak for is myself, because I know for certain what I did and did not do. For all I know, you’re the rat.’

Miss Purple stiffened with sudden fury, her hooves pausing as they swept back an errant lock of hair from her brow. Her eyes narrowed at the accusation and she could not stop her voice from rising into a shout. ‘For all I know, you’re the rat!

White raised her hooves defensively. ‘Alright, darling, now you’re losing your mane! For all we know, she’s the rat.’

Her last words were accompanied with a flick of her head in the direction of where Miss Orange lay. Purple glared at her and she spoke slowly, as if to force every word into White’s ears. ‘That pony is slowly going lame from a broken hoof that I saw her take, so don’t you dare call her a rat!’

Throwing up her hooves, White relented and both unicorns swayed on the spot, neither knowing what to say next. Miss White wiped her face wearily and eyed the ground. Her sharp vision picked out several clumps of mud, each one dry and dusty with age. The sight made her suddenly aware of how filthy she had become and, sagging with the weight of the morning’s events, she made her way to the wash basin.

Miss Purple did not stay to watch her. Instead, she made her way back out to the barn, suppressing a gasp as the stifling heat of the burgeoning afternoon hit her in a suffocating wave. The muggy warmth made her temper prickle, and yet she could not help but kneel next to her fallen friend, concern painted across her features.

The scent of panicked sweat was strong on Orange. It was strong on them both. It was a distinctive odour; one of desperation and fear. It was something that Purple had long grown familiar with and yet had never grown used to. Sometimes she wondered if there was anything inside her except the cautious, efficient pony she had become but as she stared at the golden-maned mare in front of her, the worries disappeared just as quickly.

‘How is she doing?’ White asked, the shuffling of her hooves breaking the reverent silence.

‘I’m not sure,’ Purple replied distantly. ‘I do know that if we don’t get her to a doctor then there’s not much hope for her. She...’ Pausing, Purple recalled Orange’s final, frantic plea. ‘She...wanted me to take her to Ponyville General.’

‘So?’ White responded casually. ‘Let’s just take her there and drop her off in front of the entrance. A little time in Canterlot Dungeon is a small price to pay next to going lame, right? So what’s stopping you?’

‘I told her my name.’

The oppressive quiet swallowed Purple’s words as White stood in mute shock. The barn echoed with her voice, and as the last traces of the gentle sound faded, White shook her head in stunned disbelief.

‘That’s wonderful, that’s absolutely wonderful,’ she tutted, her icy tone causing Purple to shift awkwardly. ‘What were you thinking? There’s a reason Spike gave us all colours, and that was so if any of us were put away then there would be nothing beyond a vague description to go on to incriminate the others! Now the guards could get your name, they can follow it with mug-shots; oh, this is a total disaster! What in Equestria possessed you to do such a thing?’

Purple’s head hung low to the ground, but her tone was uncompromising, without a trace of regret.

‘We were running from the guards. We were panicking, Blue had just crashed and Orange was screaming in pain.’ Her head rose and so too did her voice gain strength with each passing moment. ‘Her hoof was broken. It was my fault her hoof was broken. She was scared. She was frantic with worry and agony. I wanted to comfort her, to let her know that everything would be okay, that she would be up and about again in no time.’ Something within Purple awoke and she roared her defence. ‘I mean what on earth was I supposed to do? Tell her “I’m sorry. I can’t give out that information”? How about “I don’t trust you enough”?’

White scoffed in disgust. ‘Well, don’t you just deserve an award for best ponytarian?’

‘Don’t you patronise me!’ Purple yelled out.

‘Well I’m right, aren’t I? That’s it for you, isn’t it? Heavens, I was worried about a physical description before but now she knows your name, what you look like, what your cutie mark is and even who you’ve been associating with! If you were smart you’d put that scruffy little mare out of her misery while you still can!’

A loud thud echoed throughout the barn. White staggered as the force of Purple’s hoof rocked her head back and her glossy, pristine mane bounced as it swayed to one side. White’s horn glowed ominously as she returned her gaze to Purple and her eyes were filled with baleful fire. Purple’s horn lit up in response and the unicorns circled one another, their magic warping the very space around them with the threat of sudden, deadly violence.

‘Don’t you ever talk about her like that again, White!’ Purple snarled. ‘Ever!’

Miss White narrowed her eyes. Her carefully preened mane was now a tangled mess and her voice was like acid as she replied with a sneer.

‘Don’t even think about it, Purple! I’m just trying to deal with a mess you created! I wasn’t the one who told Orange my name when I wasn’t supposed to! You could have just dropped her off at the hospital and taken off but no, you chose to reveal your identity, you chose to resign yourself to waiting here and risk getting caught and I refuse to be taken down with you!’

The light around their horns flared, until a sudden, harsh sound brought them to their senses. It was the sound of a throat being cleared and the unicorns turned towards the source of the deliberate interruption.

Somepony stood leaning against the barn door. Her suit was still clean, though the white shirt had been unbuttoned to reveal a sumptuous, bright pink coat beneath. The cough dissipated, only to be replaced by a noisy munching as the newcomer idly scarfed down a moist cupcake, her eyes observing the bickering ponies in front of her with glittering amusement. A swirl of magenta mane bobbed up and down as Miss Pink devoured every morsel and her smile revealed a set of perfect, pearly teeth.

‘Now, now, girls,’ she said cheerfully. ‘You really shouldn’t play so rough. Somepony could get hurt.’

Both White and Purple stared in her direction, shocked at the sudden arrival. The thick summer heat pressed down on them but Pink showed no sign of the discomfort and stress that plagued the other two ponies that now stood at each other’s throats. Her shirt was unruffled and even her shades still sat perched over her eyes.

‘What, no welcome party?’ she asked cheerfully.

Purple narrowed her eyes and began to slide away from White, their conflict suddenly forgotten.

‘You’re late.’

White too looked at Pink with ill-concealed suspicion. The day’s events were still fresh in their minds and Pink’s unhurried demeanour did little to assuage their anger over what had happened.

Purple’s mane stuck to her brow, framing her eyes as she glared at Pink. ‘You’re awfully calm, all things considered.’

Pink shrugged. ‘No point in getting all grumpy-grouchy over something you can’t change.’ Slowly, she devoured the last scraps of the cupcake and smacked her lips in appreciation. ‘Mmm...that was good!’

‘Look, Miss Pink, the entire day has been one big disaster,’ White said quickly. ‘I propose we cut our losses and each go our separate ways.’

‘No, we’re not gonna be doing that,’ Pink stated flatly, her eyes lowered to her hoof as she polished it idly against her suit jacket.

‘Is that so?’ asked Purple, her voice challenging. ‘Unless Spike gets here then I don’t see us having any choice.’

‘He’s on his way,’ Pink responded. She saw the questioning gazes levelled at her, and added: ‘I talked to him just now and he’s on his way here. Until then we just need to sit tight and try to make the most of the situation. Oh I know, how about a game?’

Miss Purple’s face tensed with repressed fury while Miss White unconsciously took a few steps back, her instincts warning her of danger. A prickling sense of menace had invaded the barn, mixing with the chokingly warm air and keen stench of hay.

‘Make the most of it?’ Purple said, her voice slow and deliberate. ‘Make the most of it? After what you pulled at the gem store, your answer is to just sit here and play a game?’

‘It’ll be fun.’

Though the reply was empty of sarcasm, something about the neutral tone rankled Purple even further. ‘Shut up, maniac! It’s all your fault we’re in this trouble!’

Pink cocked a brow. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Purple; do you have a problem with me?’

White took another, instinctive step backward as Purple raised her voice.

‘Do I have a problem?’ she shouted. ‘Yes, I have a problem! I have a really big problem! A problem with a crazy madmare that nearly got me killed!’

‘They touched the alarm,’ Pink shrugged. ‘They just had to go and spoil the fun like the big, fat party-poopers they were. I told them not to touch the alarm, to just sit back and enjoy the party but they went and did it anyway. If they hadn’t done what I told them not to do, then I wouldn’t have done what I did, see?’

A loud clap resounded through the barn as Purple smacked her hooves together mockingly. ‘Well done, with logic like that you could be Princess Celestia’s star pupil!’ Pink acknowledged the sarcasm with a tilt of her head and humourless smile as Purple’s voice grew serious. ‘So that’s your excuse for going on a rampage?’

‘I like parties,’ Pink responded, simply in her blithely optimistic tone. ‘I don’t like alarms. Anyway, I think I might have something that’ll turn your upside-down frowns the right away around!’

Without waiting for an answer, Pink opened the door again and disappeared outside. Miss White shrugged and picked her way carefully across the filthy ground to join her. Purple swallowed her bitter rage and threw one last, worried glance at Orange before following them out.

The sun hit her fiercely the moment she stepped from the cool shadows of the barn. It beat down on all of them mercilessly, feeding their exhaustion. Purple trotted over to Pink, who had stopped beside a large bush that straddled the path. She saw White’s features had shifted subtly into an odd expression and so with cautious curiosity, Miss Purple made her way over to the bush.

Miss Pink swept aside the rough branches and beckoned her closer.

Purple’s mood lifted in an instant. Bound and gagged, a bold white-plumed griffin glared at them angrily with sharp golden eyes. Muffled curses and threats made their way through the thick cloth binding her beak, though the thing that interested the ponies lay on her chest. Around her neck hung a silver, star-shaped medallion inlaid with the swirling emblem of Equestria’s guard force.

Despite her exhaustion, fear and anger, Miss Purple could not help but grin in satisfaction.

‘Nice work, my friend. Very nice work.’