It was clear something was off the moment Spike entered the kitchen with his new comic book in tow. Just the night before, Starlight Glimmer had given it to him as an early birthday present. He hadn’t started it yet, but planned to soon.
But first came breakfast with Twilight.
“Morning,” Spike said, reaching for a bowl of jewel-flavored cereal.
“Morning,” Twilight answered, silently munching on a slice of toast with jam.
Spike let her chew as he counted to ten inside his head. Then sighed as he shoved his bowl of cereal away. He already knew that wasn’t really Twilight Sparkle sitting next to him.
Three reasons.
1.) She wasn’t wearing her usual “crumb resistant” safety goggles.
2.) She wasn’t wearing her trademark “jam protective” gloves.
3.) She hadn’t wished him a “happy birthday” yet.
Spike reached out for a cup of orange juice and took a sip, just so he could spit it back out. “Changeling invasion!” he shrieked.
Across the table, Twilight glanced up. “What was that, Spike?”
“Umm… nothing…” Spike’s face flushed; his claws tapped along the table as he turned to his new comic. On the cover was a small dragon-shaped robot shooting fire out from his lips, while above him hovered dozens upon dozens of swarming, vicious changelings. The robot in question was “Spronk”—a lesser known side-character from the overwhelmingly popular “Power Ponies” series.
Ironically, the name of the comic was also “Changeling Invasion!”
“Just reading over my new comic book—exclamation points and all!” Spike blurted out, snagging the comic up off the table.
“But I totally forgot to brush my teeth this morning, so I’d better—”
Twilight raised a brow. “Brush your teeth before breakfast?”
Spike nodded energetically, backing away. “Don’t you just love the taste of orange juice and toothpaste? I’ll be right back! Promise!”
As Twilight shrugged, Spike hurried from the room.
***
Anxiously, Spike ran up the stairs and down the hall, his small feet pitter-pattering against the marble floor.
“Twilight! Kidnapped again?” he fumed. “I mean, sure, one time is fine. It’s a given, really. But twice? In two months? Do I have to put a bell on her or something? Teach her to say ‘No’ to strangers with white carriages full of free books?”
His head shot up as someone exited Starlight Glimmer’s room. Not Starlight.
“Morning,” Spike greeted automatically.
“Ugh,” was Trixie’s garbled response, mane disheveled and with clear bags under her eyes. “Which way to the coffee pot? Trixie is nowhere near her usual Great and Powerful self until she’s had at least two cups.”
Spike pointed down the stairs and Trixie sluggishly trotted off. That left Spike alone in the hall again with only his thoughts for company. “Could Starlight have been kidnapped, too?” he asked himself. “She wasn’t kidnapped last time.”
Steeling himself, he pushed Starlight’s door inward and found her seated on a stool in front of a mirror. She levitated a comb across her mane.
“Good morning, Spike,” she told him in the reflection of her mirror. “Sleep well? Happy Birthday, by the way.”
“Oh, thanks, Starlight,” Spike replied. In his awkwardness, he rolled his comic book up and held it tight.
Starlight took notice. “Enjoying that comic I gave you?”
“Totally. It’s… uhh… great!” Spike gingerly opened it up again and was surprised by what he saw—the metallic robot Spronk having a very similar conversation with one of his close friends… also about changelings and the very possibility of them attacking soon.
Spike had to laugh at the similarity.
“Something humorous you’d like to share?” Starlight asked.
Spike waved a claw. “I only thought you might be a changeling in disguise. Crazy, right?”
That got Starlight laughing, too. “Not at all, Spike. Because I really am a changeling in disguise. Have been since last night.” Then she tipped him a wink as her eyes flashed green.
Spike grimaced. “But… but didn’t you all abandon Chrysalis before? Because of Thorax and the power of friendship?”
She snickered. “You really think Queen Chrysalis had all of her children out of the hive at one time? A quarter of them, tops. The rest remained faithful. And that new color scheme? Blargh. What was so wrong with black? It goes with everything and is slimming, too!”
Spike took a step away from her. “Okay, but the comic book? A present? Why’d you even bother wishing me a Happy Birthday if you weren’t really Starlight?”
Finally, Starlight turned away from her mirror. “Because when I take on a character, I really get into character.”
“What about Trixie? She spent the whole night with you and even she couldn’t tell?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I repeat: I really get into character.” Then paused. “You ready to run away yet?”
“Run away?” Spike questioned, still inching towards the door.
Starlight nodded, casting away her disguise to reveal the black, hardened shell body underneath. “You know… run away. Attempt to get help. Get kidnapped anyways. Here, I’ll make it easier for you. How ‘bout a two second head start?”
Spike’s eyes went wide. “Two se—”
“Time’s up!”
The changeling lunged for him just as Spike dove out the door. Like a wet bar of soap, he skidded across the marble, keeping his comic held tight to his chest. He got back to his feet and prepared to run… only to stop a mere step later.
“Leaving so soon?” asked the changeling disguised as Twilight.
Behind her, and blocking the rest of the hallway, stood the rest of the Elements of Harmony: Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity. They all did away with their disguises a moment later.
Soon the changeling in Starlight’s room exited to join them. She pointed a sharp hoof in Spike’s direction. “No escaping this time, Spike! You and all of Equestria will soon be property of the Queen! And no comic book-type heroes will be able to stop us!”
Then she laughed and laughed. And just like some contagious sneeze, the rest of her comrades did the same, giving Spike ample time to flip open his comic book again.
On the following page, Spronk had left his friend’s room—she’d been a changeling all along, too. Now Spronk was sandwiched between an army of changelings and a large window just behind him. And one panel later, Spronk shattered the window and dove through.
Spike nodded a single time, glancing at the large window behind him. It was clear what he had to do.
Holding two claws to both of his temples, he shut his eyes and began to hum.
“What are you doing?” one of the changelings asked.
Spike grunted from the strain. “Telepathically sending a message to Princess Celestia! That’s what!”
“Can he do that?” one changeling asked another. “I didn’t think he could do stuff like that. The more you know, I guess. But we should probably just grab him while he’s doing that.”
Then the seven changelings rushed forward as Spike flailed back. He’d hardly even bumped into the stained-glass window behind him before it shattered and he fell through.
***
Two stories later, Spike hit the ground. Or rather the tall stack of hay directly underneath the shattered window he’d fallen from.
Once back on his feet, Spike checked himself for cuts; surprisingly, he had not a scratch, although he felt much stickier than before. Curious, he grabbed a shard of glass and gave it a lick. It tasted the same as candy.
Spike gave a shrug and hurried onwards, comic book in his claws. He had to find someone he could trust and fast. But who? He thought perhaps the rest of the Apple family clan might be best. Last invasion, the changeling masquerading as Big Mac couldn’t even get his only two words right. Instead of “Eeyup” and “Nope”, it was “Yes” and “No”. Sometimes “Maybe”. It seemed as if everypony that attended Chrysalis’ acting class got an automatic gold star just for not falling asleep.
“Not so fast, dragon!” a not-so-familiar voice announced.
Spike stopped halfway down the alleyway he’d been sneaking through, squinting into the dark shadows there. It wasn’t until he caught sight of the purple and green smoke that he asked, “Sombra?”
Indeed, it was. As if oozing out of the darkness like oil, King Sombra appeared, whole and intact; crimson red cape and glimmering armor at the ready.
Sombra narrowed the gap between them.
Spike casually scratched at the back of his head. “So… how you been?”
Sombra halted at that. “How have I been?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Really? That’s the best I get? Where’s the tears? The shakes? The multiplying chills? The shrieks of complete and utter horror? The nefarious King Sombra has returned and all I get is a ‘Hey, how you been’?”
“Well,” Spike said with a shrug, “it’s not like no one thought you weren’t gonna show up eventually. Your horn flying off into the distance was sort of a giveaway.” He paused, chewing on his tongue. “Could we do this another time, maybe? My friends are missing, so—”
Sombra cackled maniacally. “You think I did not know of such current goingson? That is the very reason I am here! From that first moment my horn was buried deep within the snow… only to be discovered years later by a wandering folk band and brought back to life! I only learned how to play the banjo in order to survive! And since then—”
Spike felt his eyelids grow heavy. He had to tighten his jaw to keep from yawning.
“Doesn’t talking so much hurt your throat?” he asked.
Sombra stopped in the middle of his monologue; something to do with gunslingers and towers or something equally silly. “My throat? Why, yes, it does hurt. I haven’t spoken this much in years. Perhaps that’s why my voice sounds much more gravelly than normal. Cough drop, perchance?”
Spike shook his head. “Afraid not.”
“That is fine,” Sombra told him with a sneer. “I do not crave words right now, but rather… screams!” With that said, Sombra illuminated his horn and conjured up four sharp blades made of pure energy to swing around his head. He chuckled as he did; the blades emitting sparks as they collided. “Nowhere to run, dragon! What weapons do you have against mine?”
“Weapons?” Spike questioned, as the answer made itself clear.
Hurriedly, Spike flipped through his comic book again, coming across a page depicting Spronk at the mercy of the tyrannical Queen Umbra (a character change that fans still despise to this day). It appeared as if Spronk was out of options, too—his internal gas tank running on only fumes. Looked as if he had to rely on a different weapon altogether...
Words.
PANEL 4: SPRONK SPEECH BUBBLE TEXT
“QUEEN UMBRA! STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING! I KNOW THAT IN THE PAST, WE HAVE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES! BUT WHY MUST THAT CONTINUE?”
PANEL 5: QUEEN UMBRA IS CONFUSED/CURIOUS/VOLUPTUOUS
PANEL 6: SPRONK SPEECH BUBBLE TEXT
“HERE! TAKE THIS PAMPHLET ON THE MAGIC OF FRIENDSHIP! I ALWAYS CARRY SEVERAL WITH ME!”
“Of course!” Spike muttered to himself. “What had Twilight been saying for years? If the power of friendship isn’t enough, just do the exact same thing you did before!”
Sombra loudly clashed his blades together again. “Seems you’ve come up with a plan! I would just love to hear it. Something about ‘friendship’, perhaps?”
Spike narrowed his eyes and crouched clow to the ground. “Here goes something!”
Then he lunged forward, easily dodging Sombra’s swords and forelegs as his short stature allowed him to dart right under Sombra’s chest in order to tackle him. And, just like a very cold and hard sack of potatoes, Sombra crumpled to the alleyway floor, his magic swords fading from existence.
All at once, Sombra curled himself into a tight ball of pain. “What did you do that for!?”
Spike took a step away from him. “I dunno. I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. Throw myself at you. Sort of like Princess Cadence did back at the Empire.”
“Physical violence?” Sombra spat, shuddering where he lay. “I thought you ponies used words to solve all your problems! Followed by rainbow beams...”
Spike gulped. “Look, I’m sorry, but aren’t you overreacting just a tad. I only hit you in the gut.”
“Gut!?” Sombra wailed. “Don’t you realize how short you are, you dumb dwarf dragon!” He rolled to his other side and spat on the ground. “Oh, my poor precious crystals… they hurt so much right now…”
But before Spike could attempt to make amends with his fallen foe, the very street he stood on began to shake. And then shake once again a second later.
“I have returned!” announced Lord Tirek, from clear across town. “Now get in an orderly line and prepare to tremble with fear!”
“Oh, come on!” Spike exclaimed, glaring at the steadily approaching monstrosity known as Tirek. “Chrysalis, Sombra… and now Tirek? Was there an ‘Official Equestrian Villain Picnic’ being held here today that no one knew about?”
“What did I say about cutting in the trembling line?” Tirek asked some unseen group of ponies down below. “That is what the numbered tickets are for—to stay organized!”
“Look at that mindless book of yours, dragon!” Sombra urged Spike. “How can you be so dense? Just read the book and do what it says!”
Spike smirked to himself. “Trying to distract me again, eh, Sombra? Lunge at me while my head’s stuck in a book? I don’t think so, pal. I got a plan all my own… and all I have to do is get to that store!”
Spike held a claw out to a building across the street. Sombra turned to read the sign above the door.
CO-CO’S VERY BEST CANTALOUPE AND CATAPULT STORE.
Sombra gulped nervously. “Cantaloupe?”
“Not quite,” Spike replied.
***
“I do not agree to this!” were Sombra’s first words once loaded onto the catapult and pointed in the direction of Tirek’s head.
“Neither did your slaves,” was Spike’s smartass retort.
“The weird ones did,” Sombra admitted.
Spike checked the position and angle of the catapult again, before laying his claws on the lever. Just last year, he’d gotten silver at Shining Armor’s Annual Mare Launching Competition, and felt pretty good about his chances of success right now.
He counted down. “Three… two…”
Sombra turned to him. “Just read the bloody book, you—”
“One.”
“Gak!”
And off Sombra went, like some whirling, fuming aerial projectile that wouldn’t stop complaining about all that he could see passing below him—ponies, homes, ugly patio furniture alike.
Spike held two hands to his hips as he watched his impromptu plan take flight.
It took Tirek a while to take notice. “What is that? A giant rat? Who would dare throw something that gross at someone else. And it’s getting close. Really close. Wait—”
A smack heard across Equestria.
“It hit me right in the eye! Right in the eye! And it’s pointy, too! And so, so angry! Why won’t it stop yelling at me? My parents did no such thing! They raised me as best as they could! Stop moving! You’re only making it worse! Gods above, does this hurt!”
“And that is how Spike the Brave dealt with two villains at once,” Spike narrated, mentally preparing for the grand adventure novel this day would surely go on to create. He tried to add the classic “killed two birds with one stone” phrase into his sentence, but was halted when—
“Greetings, Spike-Man!”
Spike whirled around and exhaled in relief; for possibly the first time in his life, he was actually happy to see the particular figure standing in front of him.
“Discord!” Spike greeted. “You’re not gonna believe it, but it’s happened again! Chrysalis took Twilight. We gotta go get them back.”
“You think I came all this way to rescue that lot?”
The smile Discord gave sent a shiver down Spike’s spine.
“Give me a break!” Spike said. “You’re evil again? Dude, pick a side already!”
Discord scoffed at that. “Impossible! Some ponies may prefer savory over sweet and others sweet over savory… but I like both, darn it! Usually at the same time! With the lights out and when no one is looking!” He paused to chew on his snake-like tongue. “Plus, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and couldn’t find Fluttershy to help calm me down.”
Spike tapped on his chin as a thought came to him. “So, does this mean there really is an ‘Official Equestrian Villain Picnic’ going on today? That raises so many questions. Like who brings the napkins and forks? Does everyone bring a side dish? Who’s in charge of dessert and what happens if someone has a nut allergy?”
Discord looked absolutely repulsed. “What are you going on about? Stop wasting time and let’s get to the trap already!”
Then Discord snapped two remote controls into his palms, both thumbs hovering over two ominous red buttons. He directed Spike’s attention to a far-away crane dangling a bright yellow school bus and grinned a shark-like sneer.
“This is why everyone should just stay inside, Spike-Man, because you never know when some deranged lunatic will come along with a sadistic choice!” He eyed one of the remotes. “If I press this particular button, that bus load of innocent foals comes crashing to the ground!”
“Help us, Spike!” one of the school kids in the bus yelled out an open window. “I still have overdue homework to finish!”
Discord’s smile only widened. “And if I press this other button—”
“You leave Rarity out of this!” Spike blurted, claws tightening into fists.
Discord frowned. “What? No, Rarity’s not here. She’s been kidnapped by changelings, remember? Stop interrupting me. No. The second choice is…” Using a lion’s claw, he pointed to a nearby schoolhouse, still safely on the ground, its windows and doors boarded shut. “That schoolhouse full of bus drivers!”
Spike grimaced. “What are you gonna do to them? Blow them up with dynamite? Set the building on fire?”
“Worse!” Discord cackled. “Should I press this second button, a plate of exactly twelve freshly baked muffins will appear on a table inside.”
“That doesn’t sound all that bad.”
“But only one is chocolate chip! The rest? Raisin bran!”
Clearly, Discord was waiting for Spike to react in complete and utter horror. When he didn’t, Discord angrily stomped a hoof into the dirt.
“You know little about bus drivers, don’t you?” Discord said irritably. “Some of the most terrible ponies in Equestria drive buses. The rest? Locked up in Tartarus for crimes not even an insane pony could comprehend. And what unholy heck shall be unleashed once one of them goes for the sole chocolate chip muffin and leaves the rest with gross and nasty raisin bran?”
He daintily sniffed at the air.
“Is that blood I smell? So soon?”
Then he sniffed again.
“Nope. Just B.O. Another classic bus driver trademark.”
“You don’t know them!” Spike said. “Maybe a few of them even like raisin bran!”
“One more lie and ponies die, Spike-Man,” Discord warned, before flashing his single fang. “So, what shall it be? Suffer the little children… or—”
“Well, obviously, I’m saving the kids, Discord. Jeeze. Talk about a no-brainer.”
“So be it!” Then Discord slammed down the button on the second remote and both him and Spike turned towards the schoolhouse. From inside came a faint click as the plate full of muffins must’ve appeared on the table.
“Muffins?” someone inside questioned. “How peculiar.”
“I wouldn’t touch ‘em,” another said. “Who knows where they’ve been.”
“Yeah, better safe than sorry,” a third one agreed. “We’ve only been stuck inside here for fifteen minutes so far. No need to eat mysterious appearing food just yet.” A large murmur of consent followed this.
Using a ridiculously long stick, Discord angrily poked at the side of the schoolhouse. “No! Don’t do that! Fight! Someone hit someone! Finally realize just how miserable, overworked, and underpaid you all are! Someone eat my muffins, darn it! I paid for those! I even stood in line!”
Not waiting to see how Discord’s “muffin trap” would pan out, Spike hurried up the street… before an overwhelming thought took hold.
He had absolutely no idea where he was going.
“Missing something?” Discord asked behind him greasily.
Spike turned and found Discord dangling his comic book between two fingers.
“Give that back, Discord! It was a gift!”
“Sure. Here you go!” Discord then tossed the comic Spike’s way.
Spike caught it and held it to his chest. “What gives? Now you’re being all nice again?”
Discord chuckled. “I just had my savoury. Now I’m back to sweet. Annoying, isn’t it?”
“Very.” Flipping open the comic, Spike found where he’d left off; in a matter of six pages, Spronk had defeated all of Queen Umbra, a stampeding T-Rex, as well as the nefarious Ripcord: the possessed cord from a parachute that never opened, haunted by the very same deceased skydiver. And after that… nothing but a very wet and soggy mass of pages.
“Oh, no! The last half of the book got all wet!” Spike said, trying his best to piece together the remaining damp pages. He tried his best to make out the ruined artwork. “It looks like… Spronk still made it to Chrysalis’ hive? With a cool looking sword? But how? That entire part’s missing!”
“Don’t you hate it when comic books skip all the good stuff and cut right to the climax?” Discord asked, wrapping a heavy arm around Spike’s shoulder.
“Do I ever.” Spike squinted at the second to last page; a purple smudge embracing a smaller green one. And was that a cake on fire in the lower panel?
“Then you’re totally gonna hate this,” Discord said.
Then Discord snapped his fingers and Spike was sent along his way.
***
It was clear that Discord had reverted back to savoury. At least for the time being.
Spike stood in the center of a vast, dark hall, surrounded on all sides by snarling, teeth-snapping changelings. Held up near the ceiling were Twilight and the rest of his friends, sealed tight in sticky green pods, slumbering soundly. Queen Chrysalis sure wasn’t asleep, though; perched atop her mighty green-and-black throne and glaring down at Spike like some insect even more insect-like than herself.
“How did you even get in here?” she questioned thickly.
“Long story,” Spike said, holding both hands behind his back.
“And what is that behind your back? Show us right this instant!”
First, Spike unveiled his mostly-ruined comic book, causing all changelings in the room to laugh until tears trickled down their cheeks.
“Is that it?” Chrysalis asked, chuckling. “A mere comic book to save the day?”
“Done pretty well so far,” Spike muttered, before adding, “And this, of course.”
That was when Spike revealed the second item he’d arrived with; the one Discord must’ve slipped to him when he’d been teleported there. Holding it in front of his face, Spike’s pupils shrunk. He hadn’t known what it would be until just that moment.
An empty paper towel roll.
“No!” Chrysalis shrieked at once. “Where did you find such a thing? Impossible!”
Turning the paper towel roll over, Spike skimmed the bit of writing along the side.
“The Deux Ex Stickina?” he read aloud.
Chrysalis recoiled in her seat. “Not the Deux Ex Stickina! Anything but that! Children! Attack! But do not let him hit you with the roll—stick! I meant stick!”
And that was when all of Chrysalis’ children swarmed at once to the center of the room and Spike lashed out with the only two items he held: a rolled-up comic book and a paper towel roll that may or may not have had vast magical properties.
Either way, those changeling children sure went flying once smacked upside the head.
And it felt so much like one of his own comic books, Spike even added sound effects along with every hit. BAM! BIFF! BLOOP! BLORP! FLIM! FLAM! WHACK! WHACK-ETH! SORRY-I-HIT-YOU-IN-THE-EYE! I-DIDN’T-MEAN-TO!
Left panting and sweaty, Spike ended his hit-streak at the foot of Chrysalis’ throne. She visibly seethed with anger, fangs chomping at the bit. “You… dare!?” Then she lunged forward, wings spread, hooves ready to strangle, eyes burning crimson red, until—
Tap.
Spike softly whacked her atop the head and she collided with the floor, unmoving.
Spike stared at his Deux Ex Stickina.
“Whether this is real or not, I’m holding on to it.”
EPILOGUE
Twilight Sparkle wished Spike another Happy Birthday before rushing from the party room and into her library. Spike didn’t seem to mind, though; he merely asked Apple Bloom for another dance and off they went.
Closing and locking the door behind her, Twilight found four weary individuals waiting.
Lord Tirek spoke first, one of his eyes much redder than usual. “You owe me a very much reduced Tartarus sentence for that performance today, Miss Sparkle.”
“And crystals!” Sombra said next. “Lots and lots of them!”
“That’s it? All you want are more crystals?” Twilight asked.
“And that lamp!” Sombra said, pointing to one in her library. “And that other lamp, too!”
“Don’t forget about the love you owe my hive, Princess,” Chrysalis added. “Six months worth, at least. That death scene of mine was pure beauty.”
“You went down in one hit, Chrysalis.”
Chrysalis shrugged. “It coincided with naptime.”
“Fine,” Twilight said. “And you, Discord?”
Discord narrowed his eyes at her sternly. “All the birthday cake I want.”
“Deal,” Twilight told them all. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to get back to.”
The moment she opened the door back to the party, Spike ran up and wrapped himself around her chest. She pleasantly returned the embrace. “What’s that for, Spike?”
“Just a thank you for today.”
“You’re thanking me?” Twilight said. “You’re the one that saved the entire town, Spike.”
Spike snorted. “Okay. Sure. Whatever you say, Twi. It’s not like a certain comic book from Starlight Glimmer spelled out every last detail or anything.” With that said, he grabbed the ruined comic book off a table and turned it over to the back cover. “This was also a pretty big giveaway.”
CO-WRITERS: Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash.
Twilight’s face flushed. “I’ll have you know my original idea involved a thrilling and intense museum tour… until Rainbow Dash sort of beefed things up a bit. We both sort of ran out of steam by the end. As you may have noticed.”
Spike read the back of the book again. “Pencils and inks by Derpy Hooves? Who would’ve thought she did stuff like that.”
Twilight laughed. “How else would you explain her crossed eyes? She simply drew too many explosions.”
And so they laughed. And then hugged once more And did exactly what the last page of Spike’s comic book told them to do: light the candles on his cake and blow them out.
And wish for something even more spectacular next birthday.
Author's Note
Dedicated to the very best Spike writer on the site... SomethingEmoAndEdgy.
