Bright orange hooves clomped down the rough-hewn wooden stairs, and Scootaloo reached out to open the front door of her home.
“Stop right there, my little pony!”
Scootaloo turned back to face her mother, with obvious displeasure. “I gotta get to the Harvest Dance, mom. For Cel's sake, go help Hard Sell with the bills or whatever.” She turned to leave again, only to be stopped by a harsh reprimand.
“He is your father and you will address him as such! And you think I'm letting you out of my sight looking like that?” She disdainfully eyed her daughter's unkempt woven saddle and especially the black leather bridle she sported; Hop Skip Jump raised her brown wing and front hoof to point at what she deemed a questionable fashion accessory. “Honestly, where do you kids come up with these horse apples?”
Angrily, Scootaloo retorted, “Come on, bridles are the thing right now! Sapphire Shores wears one, and don't tell me you don't listen.” She raised her voice and projected it toward the back room, “I can hear you humming that stupid song!”
Hard Sell, a dark green earth pony with a coinpurse on his flank stopped his quasi-harmonics and came in the room. “What is this now? Skippy, are you going to let her leave looking like this?” His wife straightened up and gave a derisive snort. “Certainly not! No daughter of mine is going to leave home looking like some kind of gussied-up mule!”
Scootaloo let out an exasperated sigh and melodramatically rolled her eyes. “Brigand is waiting for me, Hard Sell,” She spit out his name like it had a bad taste. “I'm leaving now.”
“Watch your tone, young filly! I don't care how 'cool' your friends think you are, but in this hou-”
Before her father-in-law could finish, Scootaloo had already slammed the door to their shop home, knocking to the ground the little golden bell that heralded customers' arrivals.
Brigand and Quick Leap were already waiting for her outside the school house. She appraised both of them as she neared. Quick Leap had a white coat and a charcoal mane with hints of gold; he was also as strongly built, hard-hitting, and, most especially, stupid as the brick adorned on his haunches. Standing next to him was a stallion of no comparison- Brigand. Luxurious fetlocks of midnight blue, tumbling down his crest on top of his velvet-soft navy coat. He wore his usual hooded sweater, barely concealing the two horseshoes that were his calling card. Local hearsay suggested he claimed his cutie mark after bucking in the heads of some colts from Fillydelphia before he moved to Ponyville, but he never told the story himself; that added to his charm. He in turn appraised Scootaloo as she drew out from the shadows. Her frame had, as he put it, had blossomed. Her muscles were taut and toned, a peak athlete. It was no wonder that when she finally achieved her mark it was a golden trophy. “#1”, Brigand had told her once, “#1 in any race, and in my heart”.
Scootaloo felt a shiver down her spine when she recalled that line. She greeted the two with the casual, “What's up, guys? We goin' in or are you two gonna kiss already?”
“Shut up ya foal. We're goin' in. Cue-ell, get the door for the lady.” Like all his commands, this was casual and off-the-cuff. Quick Leap nodded, and held the wide schoolhouse door open for the two of them, and followed obediently after.
The Harvest Dance was already in full swing- Sweetie Belle was belting out some love song on the makeshift stage, while many couples danced in the middle of the cleared-out room and a few wallfillies stood around sipping punch or nibbled at the dried-leaf decor. Nopony took notice when the trio entered the scene, or perhaps purposefully looked away. Scootaloo gave critical looks all around in preparation for the night's planned entertainment- coming up with insulting critiques of everypony in attendance.
Brigand nudged her in the withers, jostling her saddle ever so slightly. Instantaneously, Scootaloo fell into a panic- because under her saddle lied her greatest shame, a pair of underdeveloped wings. She had known for some time growing up that they would never be as strong as her idol Rainbow Dash's, but never would she have guessed that only one would grow, and both would be so sickly and weak. Something to do with the bones, the doctors had told her. She had gone to Canterlot and Hoofington seeking remedies, but all she got were false promises. Her parents soon realized that hope would prove more painful than ignorance, and so Scootaloo wore a saddle everywhere she went and never spoke of it again. It was in compensation that she took to running with all her might, proving herself in race after race against the best in the region; that is, until she met Brigand and fell in love.
“Hey, stupid.” Brigand nudged her again, harder. “You awake? Or you stay up all night cloppin'?” Quick Leap laughed boorishly and jabbed a hoof in her side as well. “Yeah, ain't that right B? Cloppin' all night!” They both chuckled and high-hoofed each other. Scootaloo snapped out of her self-analysis and shot them both icy stares. “What is so important, Brigand?”
He pointed to the far corner of the room, where Apple Bloom was obviously struggling to dance with Snails. After the few summers when Scootaloo was absent from school and the Cutie Mark Crusaders stopped their constant exploration, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both went their separate ways, and Apple Bloom found herself even less popular among the fillies and colts at school. Still, having to dance with Snails in her sister's hand-me-downs must have been painful for her- you really couldn't sink any lower on the social ladder at that point. Scootaloo barely contained a facehoof, and tried to come up with a comment sufficiently biting- but she struggled to even keep her mind on the situation at hand. Seeing Apple Bloom so obviously miserable (despite all her best efforts, it seemed), instead of providing the usual schadenfreude her friends thrived on, provoked painful feelings that took all of her mental fortitude to suppress.
Brigand spoke up, suggesting, “Dancing with that loser is probably how they punish criminals” Quick Leap chimed in, “Yeah, like rapists and stuff!” He laughed an inordinate amount. Scootaloo forced out a chuckle, and replied with “How'd he get in this grade? Do they have picture books for algebra?” Both the colts had a big reaction to that jibe, while a few ponies nearby were obviously put-off, and quickly left the area and murmured to each other. Scootaloo followed them with her eyes for a bit, feeling slightly ashamed of her own behavior- but the guffawing pair next to her removed any doubts of wrong-doing from her mind, and she began to laugh as well.
Sweetie Belle had reached the climax of the song, and left the stage for refreshment while most ponies stomped in appreciation. It was obvious to everypony that Sweetie Belle had something big in her future. Without music, the dancing couples (and a few singles) moved away from the middle and off to the refreshment tables and mingled a bit. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon both headed toward the table nearest Scootaloo, seemingly unwittingly, and Silver Spoon exclaimed when she noticed. “Oh, why if it isn't Scootaloo! I see you're not hoof-cuffed, so you must have escaped from custody.” Scootaloo tried to look as apathetic as possible while still showing she was displeased. Those two fashionistas had been a thorn in her side since they were foals. They were of course decked out in the latest fashions, including a bejeweled bridle with a faux bit for extra chic, and some extravagant feather skirts. “Oh, why if it isn't Team Slut. I see neither of you are pregnant, so you must have finally discovered the rhythm method.” Silver Spoon was obviously taken aback by the sheer audacity of her ribald comment, and began to sputter. Diamond Tiara put a hoof in front of her friend's mouth and shot back, “Who do you think you are? Where do you get off?”
Quick Leap blurt out “In your parent's house!” Brigand and Scootaloo started laughing so hard the entire gathering turned to face them. Diamond Tiara was sweating, her cheeks flushed, and she gritted her teeth. “Get. Out. Now. If Miss Cheerilee hears about what you've been doing...”
“If Miss Cheerilee hears about what I've been doing I'll just tell her how you steal all the homework from Twist.” Scootaloo was confident now that the exchange would end in her eventual triumph. “I- I-!” Diamond Twist was now shaking with rage, her tail standing as high as physically possible. A group of ponies had gathered around now, obviously displeased with Scootaloo and her friends' antics. A tall orange colt stepped in front of Diamond Tiara, and said “I think you three should get on out of here.”
Brigand, annoyed, flicked his tail and snorted. “Fine, let's get out of here. Forget these foals.” All three headed toward the door. Scootaloo shot back an obscene gesture to the crowd before she finally disappeared beyond the threshold, snickering madly.
“That was great! I love seeing her so pissed off. That stupid whore...” Scootaloo pounded one hoof into the other threateningly. “Calm down, filly. The night's still young. Maybe you and I could still, you know- get some private time?” Brigand reached over to touch her mane, but she was in no mood. “Knock it off, jerk. You think you're gonna get anywhere after the way you were chatting with Bon Bon yesterday?” Quick Leap dropped behind the other two as they bickered, as he was wont to do.
“Babe, she's way older than me. Besides, you know I only got eyes for you.” Again Brigand reached out for her mane, and for the second time Scootaloo pushed him away. “And what about Lucky Clover yesterday? And those magazines you had at the cafe?”
“Scoot, you can't keep me from playing the game- I'm not a gelding!”
“Yeah, well maybe if you put the moves on another pony you will be.”
“Oh come on, filly, that ain't no way to play...”
Quick Leap interrupted timidly, “Uh, guys?”
Brigand turned his head around, “What? Can't you see I'm busy here?” He yet again failed to put his arm around Scootaloo.
“B there's a... well, uh...” He was now looking in the direction of the town square, and his voice faded into nothingness.
“Well what, Cue-Ell? Spit it out!” Brigand was clearly becoming annoyed.
“The Mayor! She's at the door!”
“So? Who cares about that old mare? What, you wanna jump her hooves or somethin'?”
“No no, she's lockin' up! With a key!”
Now Scootaloo was perplexed. “So? How else is she supposed to lock up?” They had all now turned to look. Suddenly, with a gasp, she saw what was so interesting about the situation. The Mayor took the key from her mouth, and dropped it right under the rug in front of the back door! Brigand was obviously taking a while to compute all this, but she beat him to the punch. “The key! As soon as she leaves, we can take it and break in! Think of all the sweet pony feathers in those offices! Jewels, money, all kinds of loot!”
Brigand's eyes widened and his expression softened. “You- you're right! Quick Leap, you are a genius!”
Quick Leap was obviously not used to that kind of compliment from his comrade, and looked puzzled. “I know, right? So let's go do it and stuff!” He started to canter toward the now-vacated entrance, when Brigand caught him by the tail. “Hey, not tonight, we gotta plan this. Besides, you two got that stupid race in the morning. You gotta rest up if we want some of that sweet prize money.” Scootaloo looked at him like he was a moron. “For the last time, there's no money. Just a trophy.” She pointed at her cutie mark as if to remind him.
“Sure, sure, whatever- gold is gold, sugarcube. But let me think on this plan for tonight and we'll talk later. Unless-” He raised an eyebrow at her, “-you want to make some plans with me.”
“Oh shut up.”
“Yeah, shut up B!”
Brigand and Scootaloo both snapped at Quick Leap, “You shut up, foal!”
