Working as Intended

by Corejo

Rating: everyone
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Comedy, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Rarity, Random, Pinkie Pie
Length: 5283

Twilight turns herself into a fly. Because magic is weird like that.

Pressed by the looming shadow of academic tardiness after her internment at the hospital, Twilight again attempts the use of the Split-Sight spell to catch up on her studies. But when a strange side effect alters more than just her vision, she finds that things might not go quite as she had planned.

[Cover Art by: Conicer]

Published 2012-07-11 00:24:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-02 20:00:16 UTC

I - Second Time's the Charm

Twilight Sparkle tried to relax in her wheelchair as Nurse Sweetheart’s skillful hooves undid her head wrappings.

“Almost done, dearie,” Nurse Sweetheart said with what Twilight assumed to be a warm smile.

Any second now, she would finally be reunited with the world after her month-long internment. She’d be able to see. She’d be able to read! The thought whirled in her head like planets in orbit. She nearly salivated.

“There!”

The bandages fell away in loose coils, and Twilight cringed, shielding her eyes from the blinding light. Sweet Celestia! Since when was the world so bright?

“Surprise!”

Twilight yelped, almost rocketing out of her wheelchair. All of her friends crowded around, beaming at her. Blowing into a party horn, Pinkie Pie filled the air with a high-pitched buzz and threw bucketfuls of confetti everywhere, most of which landed on Nurse Sweetheart. The nurse glowered at her.

“Oh, hey girls,” Twilight said, still reeling. Her eyes started to readjust, and she could properly make out her friends for the first time in a long while. It had been far too long since she had seen their smiles, and she could do no less than return one herself.

“How’re those eyes of yours there, Twi?” Applejack asked.

Twilight gingerly rubbed them. “They’re alright. It’s a little weird, though. I was kind of getting used to not seeing.”

“Heh, yeah, because you had somepony as awesome as me reading for you,” Rainbow Dash said. The others glared at her.

She looked between them. “What?”

“Anyways, Twilight,” Rarity said. “We’re glad to see those dreadful bandages finally come off. Can you see alright?”

“I believe that’s my line.” The crowd parted to make way for Doctor Stable, Ponyville Hospital’s chief physician. He gave Twilight a friendly smile and cleared his throat. “Can you see alright?” Rarity shot him a frown.

Twilight shrugged. “Nothing seems different.”

“No blurry vision? No irritation? Nothing’s too bright?”

Twilight shook her head all the while. “No, it was bright for a bit, but I feel perfectly fine now.”

Doctor Stable ‘hmm’d. He promptly whisked a pen from his overcoat and floated it before Twilight. “Without moving your head, keep your eyes on the pen, please.” Left. Right. Up. Down. To the tip of her nose, then back. He nodded. “Everything seems to be in working order. If you’re sure you’re feeling alright and you have no questions, you’re free to go. If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to call. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’re a little busy today.” He regarded everypony with a nod and proceeded out the door.

Twilight attempted to stand from the wheelchair, but a hoof pressed her back down. “Hospital rules, dearie,” Nurse Sweetheart said. She began pushing Twilight toward the door, but Rainbow Dash shooed her away. The nurse huffed, but nonetheless allowed Rainbow Dash to wheel Twilight out of the hospital.

Birds chirped from their nests, and a cool breeze blew through Twilight’s mane. Though she had to squint against the sunlight, she couldn’t help but enjoy the nuisance, glad to have all six of her senses back in working order.

“So, what are you going to do first, Twilight?” Rarity asked as they made their way toward Ponyville. “It must feel so refreshing to finally be out and about.”

“I don’t know,” Twilight replied. “I think I’ll just go home and relax for today. Read a book with my own two eyes.” Rainbow Dash sputtered dismissively. Twilight giggled.

Rarity smiled. “I wish I could go home and relax, but I promised Fleur de Lis a magnificent gown, and it needs a few finishing touches before I deliver it later today.”

“That’s great to hear. From what you’ve been saying about it, I bet it’s your best work yet!”

“Oh, I would most certainly have to agree.” Rarity preened.

“Yeah, yeah, fancy gowns,” Rainbow Dash said. “Let’s get you home, Twilight.”

Rarity gave Rainbow Dash a look of horror. “Rainbow Dash, you can’t seriously be thinking of wheeling Twilight back to the library.”

“What? That’s what friends are for!”

“Rainbow Dash, do you have any idea how—”

“Raaaace!” Pinkie Pie yelled, rolling up in a wheelchair, forehooves raised in excitement.

Twilight laughed. “I don’t think that’s a good—”

“You’re on!”

Twilight looked over her shoulder at Rainbow Dash and her devilish grin. Twilight’s eyes shrank to pinpricks. “Oh, no. No. No, nononononoNONON-AHHHHHH!”

They blasted off in a streak of purple. Twilight felt her face yanked back by the force, clinging to her wheelchair for dear life as trees blurred past her. The wheelchair squeaked out unheeded complaints as the two barrelled down the road toward Ponyville.

“Rainbow! Slow down!” Her cries were lost to the wind. Dirt became gravel as they entered Ponyville proper, her brain rattling in her skull on the bumpy path.

“Ra-ai-ai-ai-ai-ai-nbo-o-o-o-o-o-ow!”

Ponies filled the corners of her vision with colorful smears, quickly joined by those who leapt aside in terror, their cries mere whispers beneath the wind’s howl. It ripped tears from her eyes, blurring her vision, yet she could see clear as day the building growing too big too fast. Rainbow Dash yelled a harsh expletive, and Twilight felt herself lurch forward in her chair. She craned her neck back, eyes wide. “Slo-o-o-ow do-o-o-o-o-o-own!!!”

Half of her brain had already accepted her fate and wondered just how much it would hurt to smash into a building at what every inch of her body told her was probably mach six, but the other, more rational half moaned over and over: not Sugarcube Corner...

The front stoop played the part of pole vault box, and the sudden stop launched both Twilight and Rainbow Dash through the saloon doors. Twilight could only hold in awe the length of time that seemed to pass before a thunderous crash of pots and pans rocked her senses. She laid still for a moment, spread eagle, watching the world spin.

When it ended its dance, she groaned, gathering herself up. Somehow, they had flown through the main room of the shop and into the kitchen, the doors still swinging frantically. A bowl wobbled past her before bumping into the counter and clattering to a rest. Rainbow Dash’s backside protruded from a hole in a cabinet door, where she struggled to pull herself out. And there was cake batter.

Everywhere.

A particularly large mound shivered next to Twilight. She looked at it with curiosity before a pair of blue eyes popped out at her. “Ahh!” Twilight cried, falling over backwards.

A wide smile appeared beneath the eyes, followed by a snort of laughter. “That was fun! Let’s go again!”

Twilight scrutinized the blob. “P-Pinkie Pie?”

“Well, duh!” The pair of eyes rolled opposite each other. “Who else do you think was racing you guys here?”

Twilight raised a brow. Race us... here?

“Uh, guys, a little help...?” Rainbow Dash’s voice echoed from the cabinet.

Pinkie Pie giggled, then zipped out from beneath the cake batter. It held her mould for a moment before sploshing to the floor. She stopped beside Rainbow Dash’s struggling hindquarters. “Silly, Dashie, you’re supposed to open the cabinet before you look inside. Like this!” She grabbed the cabinet’s handle and opened it, revealing the other half of a very upset Rainbow Dash.

“Just get me out of here before anypony sees me,” she groaned.

“Okey dokey lokey!” Pinkie Pie wrapped her in a bear hug and yanked, her friend’s body stretching out far beyond natural.

“Hgnh! Pinkie Pie!” Rainbow Dash managed to say from within the vice-like grip, eyes bulging like balloons. “Stop!”

Pinkie Pie let go, Rainbow Dash snapping to and out the other side, crashing rump-first into another cabinet. Head wedged awkwardly between her legs, she glared an inferno at Pinkie Pie.

Twilight, who had been trying to remove gobs of batter from her mane, sighed. Hopeless. She grumbled, but resigned to slicking it out of her eyes. Not even a minute out of the hospital...

“Hey, Twilight, I like the new do,” Pinkie Pie said, pointing at her mane. “New product?”

Twilight deadpanned at her. “Yes, Pinkie, it’s my new shampoo... it’s called ‘cake batter.’”

Pinkie Pie tapped a hoof to her chin. “Hmm, don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. Is it new?” Twilight groaned loudly and stormed for the exit. “W-wait! Where are you going?”

“Home!” Twilight yelled over her shoulder.

“Twilight, wait for us!” Rainbow Dash buzzed her wings furiously. The cabinet’s hinges gave out, and she rocketed face first into yet another cabinet. “Ouch!”

Twilight rolled her eyes and left the disaster zone.

≈≈≈×≈≈≈

Twilight’s walk home didn’t take long. In fact, it was the fastest she had ever walked home from Sugarcube Corner. A mane full of cake batter probably had something to do with it.

She barged into the library, slamming the door behind her. Her fuming subsided as she looked around, puzzled. She had never seen the library so clean, so perfect. Spike must have known she would be back today and made sure it was extra clean. If only he could maintain a similar level of spotlessness when she was around to appreciate and use it.

“Spike?” No answer. Must still be asleep. She rolled her eyes. It would be just like him to sleep-in when she wasn’t there to keep him in line. What if somepony needed to rent a book!? Oh well. At least she could take a bath without any interruptions.

A bookshelf on the far wall, for once, held an assortment of books and her calendar exactly where they should be. She took them in her magic and headed for the upstairs bathroom.

The morning sunlight streaming from the window had warmed the wood floor, reminiscent of her frequent trips to the spa: the hazy air, the lingering scent of shampoo, the cozy—wah!

Twilight slipped on something, but managed to grab hold of the sink. She righted herself and lifted her hoof to inspect the culprit: a bar of soap. She grumbled. How hard was it for Spike to remember to put the soap back where it belonged? Using the tray for his action figures during his seven-hour bubble baths was fine, but she had warned him of these kinds of accidents. She left it on the floor as evidence to tell him off later.

Twilight set the books aside and turned the knob on the bathtub. Water poured from the spout, quickly filling the basin as she added Super Sudds’ Bubble Bonanza. Steam wafted over its rim and filled the room with a comforting humidity that mingled with the bubble bath’s bubblegum perfume.

“Ahh... finally home. No more hospital food. No more crazy roommates.” She lifted a leg to step into the tub. “No mor—ahh!”

Hot! Hot! Hot!

She flailed her hoof, staggering away from the scalding water. Her back leg slipped out from beneath her, and out flew the bar of soap to ricochet off the tub, a little pink missile locked on target.

She saw stars. A plunk of water.

“Ughnh...” So much for a relaxing bath time.

One ice pack later, Twilight settled into the warm water and let out a sigh. Much better. She turned the faucet on again. Hot water rushed over her hind legs and made its way toward the rest of her. So much better.

She shut the faucet off and shifted the ice pack on her forehead. She wasn’t going to have two ‘horns’ if she could help it. “Alright, let’s see here.” She levitated the stack of books above her like a mobile. ‘Impressed’ would have been the understatement of the century for her regard of Rainbow Dash’s reading abilities. Well, speed reading, at least. She still had some hang-ups on pronunciation, but nothing easily overlooked.

Twilight had expected to fall behind in her studies, but Rainbow Dash proved an able reader. Surprisingly enthusiastic, too—something Twilight never would have thought about non-Daring Do books.

She brought her calendar to eye level, checking exactly where she was in her list. She blanked, almost losing grip of the books.

That couldn’t be right.

She double checked the rows of weeks. They had read Revolutions on Revolutions: A Theory on the True Nature of the Heavenly Bodies last week as planned, and Live, Laugh, Live: An Autobiography, by Hoodwink the Hoodwinker, the week before.

But she only vaguely remembered assigning The Breezie Offensive and What Came of It to last Monday, and Spike must have added How to Beat Your OCD In Ten (Plus One!) Easy Steps while she was in the hospital, whatever his reasons were on that.

Thinking back on her conversations with Rainbow Dash, they had only read the ones with some tangential relation to sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll. Counting off unread titles, they had covered barely half of the books she had intended.

Twilight groaned. She slid further into the tub, eye level with the water, and blew bubbles. If only there was a way to read all of them at the same time.

She perked up at the realization. That’s it! A grin swept her face. She grabbed a brush and went to work on the stubborn globs of cake batter. There was only one way to catch up, and she was determined to not end up in the hospital for it again.

≈≈≈×≈≈≈

Twilight emerged from the bathroom squeaky clean, books and calendar floating behind. She descended the stairs and into the main room of the library. “Now, where did Spike put you?”

Dozens of books glowed a deep purple before flying off the shelves to orbit her. She gave each of them a discerning glance as they passed. “Metamorphoses, metamorphoses... aha!” She brought a book for closer inspection, but frowned upon reading the second word in its title. She threw it aside, returning her attention to the solar system about her.

“Metamorphoses media... media... there you are!” All but one of the books fell to the floor in a collaborative thump. “Metamorphoses, Media, and Mimosas,” Twilight read off the cover of a rather large, musty book. She swept a path through the heap of books with her magic and trotted to the center table.

She laid the book down and leafed through its pages, searching for the all-too familiar spell. “Split, s, s...” She quickly sang through the alphabet. “A, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, elemenno, p. Q, r... s! Here we go! S-p, s-p, s-p... aha!” The pages stopped about halfway through the book, where two sets of eyes, one on top of the other, peered up at her. A chill ran down her spine.

Could she do this spell? It still looked awfully complex, and memories of a month spent in darkness did nothing to soothe the sudden anxiety seizing her mind.

She shook her head. Focus. Feel the magic.

Her horn started to glow, but fizzled out when dark images ran through her head. She bit her lip, glancing at the page again. Long flowing script of advanced magical techniques crowded out what little white space the pages dared allow.

She leaned away from the book, unsure if she could do it.

Looking around the room for some sort of motivation, her eyes landed on her schedule, and she puffed out her chest.

She stared down the book, but couldn’t help the small lump in her stomach. A few deep breaths. “Okay, Twilight, you can do this. Just remember what went wrong last time and don’t repeat it.” She gulped. “Second time’s the charm... Right?”

Twilight shut her eyes. Her horn glowed bright, rays of energy slowly snaking around her head in pulsing shades of purple. Focus. Remember the sequence.

Nerves split within her head, twisting, rewiring. Eyes remolded, reforming from the inside out. Concentrate.

A bright flash engulfed the room, and Twilight collapsed. “Oh, my hea—” She tensed. “Eyes!” The front door was straight ahead, but so was the staircase. She turned her head to face the stairs, bringing the back wall with a mirror into view.

She stood and ran toward the mirror. One step and she fell flat on her face. She staggered back to her hooves, legs wobbling, unable to reconcile with the sudden change in perception, and it was a long waddle to the mirror.

Sweat beaded on her brow by the time she found herself before it, tired but nonetheless proud of the accomplishment. She raised herself tall, grinning into the mirror—and, inadvertently, a bookshelf. From what she could see in her reflection, rather than a pupil and encircling iris in each eye, two stared back, smaller than normal, as if it had pinched off in some imitation of mitosis. “It worked!”

With a bit of concentration, she managed to swivel the askance pair to line up with the other, sliding another mirrored Twilight into view. The pair of her reflections then merged together, though one sat slightly above the other like double vision.

She clapped her hooves. “I can’t believe it worked!” To acclimate herself to what would undoubtedly become quite the time-saving spell, she rolled each pair of pupils around in her eyes. Dizziness set in, and she stopped to catch her balance, giggling.

Carefully, she shuffled to the middle of the room and levitated two books into the air, opening them to random pages as she focused on each. Both were easily readable. She let out a squee of delight.

“This is amazing! I’ll be able to catch up in half the time!” Wait. Half? Only half? Why not a quarter? Why not an eighth? She grinned mischievously, turning to the open book on the table.

She hobbled over and scanned the page. Nothing said she couldn’t split more. She could probably do it at least one more time. She stamped her hoof. There was only one way to find out.

Swept up in the high of scientific discovery, Twilight closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Concentrate. Waves of purple light shot from her horn and wavered through the air, again wrapping her head in a cocoon. Focus.

She could feel the magic doing its job. Nerves rewired, and eyes reformed, but something felt odd. What’s tha—no, focus. Focus! A strange sensation rippled down her spine into her hooves.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

In an instant, the sensation roared to life, raging through her like fire. Oh no! She strained to control the magic, but it had a will of its own. It wrapped about her, mummifying her from head to hoof. She could feel herself shrinking, shrivelling, her bones and joints contorting into something unnatural.

That wasn’t supposed to happen either.

The light intensified as her magic condensed into a ball. It crackled with power, shooting out tongues of lightning that set fire to all it touched. Suddenly, it folded in on itself, becoming no larger than a speck of dust, before exploding. Front wall missing, the library lay in shambles.

That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen.

Author's Note

[Thanks to Drakmire, Secondaryspine, and Cassius for their help with the original write all those years ago.]

[Onward and upward!]

II - Another Normal Day for Rarity

“Ah. Absolutely stunning, don’t you think, Opal?” Rarity asked.

Opalescence glanced up lazily from a bolt of cloth-turned-pillow and meowed indifference. She rolled over, resuming her slumber.

“Why yes, I do believe this is my greatest creation yet!” Rarity stepped back from a dress form, where a beautiful, flowing dress seemed to brighten the room with a light of its own. A tear came to her eye. Four months of tireless work had never paid off so magnificently. “Fleur will be most pleased—no, honored to wear this for the upcoming Summer Daze banquet in Canterlot.”

Opalescence meowed again.

“You’re right, I should get this to the post office right away if it’s to arrive on time.” Rarity trotted toward a closet in the back of her boutique, but a faint buzzing noise caught her attention. She sighed, then looked around in annoyance. It was around here somewhere.

She scanned the room with a glare that would have made the bravest of warriors faint before settling on a fly making endless circles above. Scowling, she levitated a magazine from a nearby table, slapped its pages around the fly, rolled it up, and tossed it in the trash with her only second thought being to set it on fire. After the embarrassment of last year’s Canterlot Spring Formal, she made a point to dispose of the little devils whenever she happened upon them. Revenge was an endless endeavor. One utterly destroyed ballroom was enough for her lifetime.

Satisfied with her daily dose of vengeance, she turned back to the closet and brought out a thick canvas dress protector: waterproof, flame-retardant, and for what it was, quite stylish. Paisley had its moments. She nodded in approval, then brought it back to the dress form. Careful not to wrinkle her masterpiece, she slipped the dress inside before zipping it up.

“There. Safe and secure.” She chuckled. “Now, to the post office.”

≈≈≈×≈≈≈

A cool breeze swept through Rarity’s mane as she made her way through town, dress in tow.

“Why, Rarity, you really need to get out more,” she said, taking in the afternoon sunlight. “Today is absolutely gorgeous! This would be a—wah!” She jumped backward, narrowly avoiding a speeding red wagon full of Crusaders. “Will you three please be more careful!?”

“Sorry, sis!” Sweetie Belle yelled over her shoulder. Everything else she said was lost in the distance.

Rarity sighed. When will they learn? “Now, where was I? Oh, yes.” She floated the dress protector before her, continuing, smiling dreamily. “Why yes, Fancy Pants, I did make this fabulous dress.” She looked around the empty streets for curious eyes, then giggled like a school filly and bit her lip in a vain attempt to curb her excitement. The thought of holding what would soon be the greatest statement in all of fashion overcame her. One last glance couldn’t hurt.

Every shade of purple to ever grace the earth met her eyes as an elegant halter dress floated out from the protective covering. Its lean, silken body glowed softly in the afternoon sun. The front cut low to centerpiece a silver necklace set with a single dark-purple spinel. Amethyst fleurs-de-lis lined the midriff and continued on into the long, frilled skirt. Barely noticeable to the eye, silken gossamer flowed over the shoulders like morning mist over a meadow, and thin strips of iridescent lace entwined imaginary hooves. To top it all off, a silver tiara inlaid with diamond-encircled amethysts took its place above the ensemble.

Perfect couldn’t describe it. It was absolutely perfect.

Rarity sighed. To think that she wouldn’t be the one to wear her greatest creation. Quite a shame, really—it went marvelously with her mane and dove-white coat. But business was business, and quite a bit of business it would certainly bring.

A gentle wind rustled the branches of the library as she passed it by, drawing her attention. “Hmm... I wonder how Twilight’s doing.”

Suddenly, the front wall of the library exploded in purple hellfire. The flames roared into the street and washed over Rarity like a flood.

As quickly as it had happened, the flames died away, leaving an inside view of the library, a scorched strip of earth, and a very not-dove-white Rarity.

She gazed blankly into the distance, eye twitching. The ringing in her ears filled the silence of the empty street as the dress protector fell from her grasp, and slowly, slowly, her eyes shifted to the pieces of charred, blackened, and not-masterpiece worthy scraps of cloth hanging in the air. They crumbled into tiny flakes that gently fluttered into the open dress protector, which laid on the ground unscathed.

The reality of her situation overwhelmed her. The earth spun, and everything went black.

≈≈≈×≈≈≈

“Rarity!”

SLAP!

“Rarity, wake up!”

SLAP! SLAP!

“Ughnh?”

SLAP!

“Rainbow...?”

SLAP!

Rarity’s eyes shot wide. “Rainbow!”

Rainbow Dash paused, hoof in the air. “Oh, good! You’re awake! Something’s happened to the library! It blew up or something! We have to go find Twilight!”

Rarity breathed a sigh of relief knowing the rain of blows had ended, but then tensed as if it hadn’t. “What!?”

“I said we need to find Twilight! Come on!” Rainbow Dash yanked her to her hooves and made a beeline for the library.

Rarity shook her head. Twilight... Right. Help Twilight. She took a step toward the library, but something crunched underhoof. She looked down and promptly fainted.

≈≈≈×≈≈≈

“Rarity!”

Something shook her like an unfortunate birthday present. “Ughnh?”

“Come on!” Rainbow Dash dropped her to the ground and punted the dress protector across the street.

Rarity wobbled unsteadily on her haunches before shaking her head and scowling at the rainbow trailing into the library. That ruffian. Rising to her hooves, she brushed fruitlessly at the soot clinging to her chest. She sighed. That’d take weeks to get out.

She cast a wistful glance at the dress protector, but took a deep breath and trotted to the library. Twilight was more important. If only barely.

The library was, to put it lightly, worthy of condemnation. Bits of bark hung from the ceiling and the jagged, gaping hole that was once the front wall, and books lay in heaps of ash beneath decimated bookshelves. Deep scores ran chaotic patterns in the floor. Spike was piling books in a corner, a tired but irritated look on his face.

“Spike, what happened?” Rarity asked, eyeing the smoking remains of the center table.

“Oh, you know, just a huge explosion is all. Nothing special. I mean, it only happened the day after I stayed up all night to finish straightening up the library...” He set a stack of books on top of another, and the combined stack collapsed into a cloud of dust. He ground his teeth.

Rarity shielded her face from the frustration radiating off him and gave a weak smile. “Oh, well, um... where’s Twilight?” Spike glowered at her. “Eheh, I-I’m sure she’s alright. Oh, I know! Why don’t you let us clean up for you? You look positively exhausted!”

“Well... It’s a lot to clean up, but I’m the only one who knows where everything goes.” He looked aside, brows tensed in hesitation.

“Oh, nonsense, Rainbow and I will have the place sparkling before you can bat an eye. Now you go on upstairs and get your rest.” She straightened a pile to enunciate her point.

Spike held a book close to his chest and bit his lip, but a peck on the cheek practically floated him upstairs, a goofy smile on his face.

After the door to the bedroom clicked shut, Rarity gave the room another once-over. A large black circle consumed most of the floor and seemed to be the epicenter of the fissures. She rolled her eyes. Not even an hour after getting out of the hospital, Twilight just had to go and do something crazy. Her eye twitched. She just had to go and ruin her dress...

Rarity shook her head, silently berating herself for thinking such things. She did earnestly hope she was alright.

Momentarily, a pile of books shuddered, and a very grey Rainbow Dash popped out with a book in her hooves and one on her head. She coughed, sending a cloud of ash across the library. “She ain’t under here. But I found a Daring Do book!” she said, holding out the one in her hooves before it disintegrated. She frowned.

Rarity sighed. “Rainbow Dash, we don’t have time for this. We have to find out what happened to Twilight.”

“Relax, Rarity, this isn’t the first time Twilight’s done something stupid like this. Besides.” She spread her forehooves wide, gesturing at the pile of books. “I don’t see you diving in here...”

Rarity huffed. “There are cleaner and less, eh, dusty ways of looking. I will not stoop to getting dirty if I can help it.”

Rainbow Dash snickered, then burst into laughter. “It’s a little late for that, Rarity. You already look like a burnt marshmallow!”

Rarity flustered, her face turning beet red. “Rainbow...” She took a step forward, but stopped as something caught her eye.

A small purple something buzzed through the air, weaving a random pattern as it descended toward her. Wide eyed, Rarity leaned back and watched it land on the tip of her nose.

≈≈≈×≈≈≈

A large tree stood tall on the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres. It basked in the warmth of the sun, silently growing taller and grander than its kin. Large apples, its pride and joy, shimmered like grand rubies. While it knew it could never live up to Bloomberg’s greatness, second place was acceptable; since his transfer to Appleoosa, there was no competition for miles around.

A wind rustled the tree’s branches, giving it the sound of a contented sigh. If able to, it would have smiled. The sound of songbirds and scurry of squirrels counted among its favorite things in life, and the day held no short supply of either. Such a wonderful day it was, nothing to go wrong or disturb its carefree life.

That is, until a little red wagon crashed into the broadside of its trunk and exploded in a dazzling shower of color. The animals scattered like leaves in the wind. If it had a pair of eyes, the tree would have rolled them. Not these three again.

“I told you that was a stupid idea, Scoot,” Applebloom said, straightening the frazzled remains of a pink bow in her equally frazzled mane. She sat up from a bit of charred grass and frowned at their wagon. More like an accordion now. The tree would have smirked had it the ability.

“Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining earlier,” Scootaloo shot back as she crossed her eyes to look at the tip of her mane, which was lit like a candle. She licked her hoof and snuffed the flame to a loud sizzle.

Applebloom smacked her upside the head. “Well I was fine with it ‘til you decided to use them fireworks to make us go faster! What were ya tryin’ to do, get us our suicide cutie marks?”

“Pssh! It would have worked if you let me use all of them.”

Applebloom smacked her again, but then turned to their friend. “You alright, Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie Belle lay upside down against the tree, face scrunched, eyes spinning. After a moment, she rolled to her haunches and shook her head. “Yeah, I think.”

The wind blew through the tree again, another involuntary sigh. These three always found a way to ruin a perfectly good day of simple relaxation. They seemed to have been roughed up quite well by their shenanigans, but the tree saw fit to loose an apple for good measure.

“Oww!” Scootaloo rubbed her head, then glared at the tree.

“Serves ya right, Scoot, ya coulda killed us!”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with any cutie mark ideas!”

“Girls!” Sweetie Belle cut in. “Can’t we just g—”

She stopped, and all eyes turned toward Ponyville. Far off in the distance, they could hear a faint blood-curdling scream.

Author's Note

[Author's Note: Once again, I would like to thank my editors Drakmire, SecondarySpine, Filler, and Seattle_Lite for their comments and talents on the original write all those years ago. Suddenly, there was a huge explosion! But sadly, that tribute was cut in editing, so it goes here instead. Never stop being awesome, Gardez. You're the man.]

[Onward and upward!]