Starlight's Sanity Suffers Several Severe Strains
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All the Happy Little Reunions

Starlight's Sanity Suffers Several Severe Strains

Trixie shuddered and trotted faster. Over the last few days, the weather in the morning kept getting colder and pulling a heavy wagon in such conditions most certainly didn’t help her poor joints.

She sighed, thinking of all the bits she made during her shows this summer. It wasn’t enough to retire, but most certainly enough to hire some hapless earth pony to pull her cart in case arthritis tried to put her out of business. Trixie even started to search her memory for suitable candidates, which soon ended with her imagining Limestone Pie in a bridle, still wearing that nasty expression she had whenever she looked at her.

“Trixie really needs to get laid,” she muttered to herself and trotted even faster.

Soon, Ponyville was in sight. Trixie smiled – since she befriended Starlight, she always had a place to crash. She could sleep on an actual bed and eat as much as she could, sometimes without Twilight even realising that Trixie was in her castle.

Trixie trotted into the town. She noticed a big, new building next to the castle and couldn’t help but wonder how fast things changed in Ponyville. However, she didn’t really pay attention to it – she’d walked all night and now all she wanted was to hit the hay. She parked her wagon next to the castle and grabbed a spare key hidden behind the bannister.

Quietly, she slipped inside and trotted to her bedroom, trying to avoid any of the bigger chambers. Not that she didn’t want to meet Twilight. She just didn’t want to talk about spending winter in her castle again right now, exhausted and hungry.

The door on the second floor was just as Trixie remembered it. She pushed it open, ready to jump into the bed and sleep at least until the next week.

That is, until she noticed that someone was already in her bed.

Trixie nearly screamed, seeing the tall mare, who was snoring loudly. Her mane was unkempt and her horn was missing – for quite a long while, given the thin layer of tissue growing in place where it’d been snapped off. She also had a large scar on her face, the sight of which made Trixie’s stomach turn. She was about to ask what was going on, but suddenly someone put a hoof in her mouth.

Trixie turned her head to protest against such treatment, but then she saw that the mysterious hoof belonged to Starlight Glimmer herself. She was wearing a bathrobe with colourful kites on it. When Trixie looked closer, she noticed bags under Starlight’s eyes and a couple of grey hair in her mane.

“Don’t yell,” Starlight whispered. “If you have to say something, whisper. One question at a time. If you accidentally shout, drop on the floor immediately.”

“Mhm,” Trixie replied. “What is going on here?” she asked once Starlight removed her hoof. “What is the bassist of All The Pretty Little Dead Horses doing in my bed?”

“One question at a time.” Starlight rolled her eyes. “For starters, it’s not your bed. Twilight considers it a guest room. Secundo, this is not the bassist of All The Pretty Little Dead Horses. If it was, my inner teenager would be fangirling all over the place.”

Trixie raised her eyebrows. “You were their fan? Trixie always thought they played music for rich shits who thought their life was hard.”

“I often disagree with my inner teenager.” Starlight blushed.

“They’re playing a revival show on Nightmare Night in Manehattan,” Trixie said.

“Where can I buy the tickets?” Starlight asked.

“Trixie will tell you if you tell her why her bed is currently occupied by a mare who looks like she fought a combine harvester and lost.” Trixie threw a nervous glance at the bed, eyeing the charred crystal walls around it.

“Don’t say that when she wakes up,” Starlight muttered. “She’s still slightly traumatised after being attacked by an Ursa Minor as a filly.” She raised her bathrobe, revealing a bandaged hind leg.

Trixie smirked. “Oh, Trixie could tell her a few things about ursas. Did I tell you how I defeated an Ursa Major?”

Starlight huffed and nodded slowly. “Twilight tells that story in a bit different way…”

“Aww, hell,” Trixie muttered, looking at the pony in her bed again. “Don’t believe her lies and slander. Also, don’t you think that Twilight has a tender spot in her heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things?”

Starlight gave out a quiet chuckle, closing the bedroom door so they could talk without whispering. “I wonder which category I belong to...”

“Depends,” Trixie replied. “Do you know both of your parents?”

“Well, I had a theory that my dad banged Sunburst’s mom and that’s why Sunburst doesn’t want to, you know…” She made a rather suggestive gesture with her hoof.

“Oh, just tell him that there’s nothing wrong with incest.” Trixie shrugged. “Trixie could’ve banged her own father and she wouldn’t know that, because this fuck went out to buy cigarettes when Trixie was two and never came back.”

“I already showed him Applejack’s sister and the dates on her parents’ graves.” Starlight sighed. “Then I told him to do the math, but he didn’t get the idea. Also, trust me, if you banged your father, you’d know.”

“How do you know?” Trixie asked.

“Umm…” Starlight chuckled nervously. “You know that Applejack’s family is holding a reunion soon? Something tells me you’ll be invited.”

Trixie looked at Starlight, furrowing her eyebrows. “What the fuck are you talking about? Save that for a moment when The Great and Powerful Trixie is not tired.” She pointed at the door. “Which leads us back to the elephant in the room.”

“She’s not that fat,” Starlight muttered.

“Okay, a weasel who had a lawnmower accident in my bedroom.” Trixie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I want my bed back.”

“There’s plenty of beds in this castle,” Starlight replied. “Including one that can fit seven ponies comfortably and still no one figured out what is it for.”

“Yes, but this particular one is Trixie’s bed.”

Starlight groaned. “Do you have some issues with beds?”

“It’s the only bed Trixie ever had on her own,” Trixie replied. “Meaning an actual bed, not a crappy mattress in the wagon, or your own personal piece of floor in the circus where you can only hope that other circus kids don’t wet themselves in their sleep.” She trotted to the bedroom door. “Wake her up or Trixie will do that.”

Starlight froze. “Wait,” she said. “I’ll wake her up myself. You know, it’s a bit dangerous.”

Trixie smirked, pushing the door open. “Please. What can she do to me?”

“Wait,” Starlight whispered, grabbing a silver tray from the table by the door. She levitated it, holding it in from of herself. “Stay behind me.”

They walked closer to the bed. Trixie noticed that the mare in her bed had a rather light sleep; her whole body was trembling and one of her eyes was half-open, revealing a striking blue iris.

Starlight raised the tray. “Wakey, wakey, Tempest!” she exclaimed.

“Aaargh!” Tempest’s eyes shot open. Trixie heard an explosion and saw a magic beam bouncing off the tray and hitting the ceiling, leaving a smoking dent in the crystal.

“Hello,” Starlight said, watching Tempest sitting on the bed, panting. “My friend would like to talk to you about this bed.”

Tempest furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you crazy? I could’ve killed someone…”

Starlight shoved Trixie forward with her magic. “She told me to. Fizzlepop, this is Beatrix. Beatrix, Fizzlepop Berrytwist.”

“Tempest Shadow,” Tempest muttered, glaring at Starlight.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie.” Trixie huffed, giving Starlight another cold glare.

“Mayor Marks.” Starlight smiled sheepishly. “We’re using our made-up names, right?”

Tempest turned to Trixie. “If I murder her, will you help me hide the body?”

“Umm… Trixie doesn’t think such measures will be necessary…” Trixie backpedalled, shifting her gaze from Starlight to Tempest.

“Too bad,” Tempest replied. “Anyway, what brings you here, the Great and Powerful Trixie?”

“My bed,” Trixie muttered, frowning. She really didn’t feel like having a smalltalk, especially not with a mare who looked like a crash test dummy in a razor factory.

“It’s yours?” Tempest asked, looking at the bed. “Sorry, I got a bit tired after I personally visited every single pony in Equestria to tell them about the Storm King’s defeat.”

“You could’ve just written an article in Illustrated Canterlot News, you know,” Starlight whispered. “Or Horse Voice.”

Tempest ignored her, tilting her head and looking at Trixie. “To think about it, I remember you.”

Trixie shrugged. “Strange, because Trixie doesn’t remember you.”

Tempest smiled sheepishly. “Well, the circumstances weren’t favourable…”

It was the middle of summer in Yakyakistan, which meant that the layer of snow was only as tall as three ponies, rather than the usual six. Trixie’s wagon was half-buried in the snow, while its sole occupant tried to sleep under all the blankets she could find, with a magical sphere of blueish fire to keep her warm.

With rather poor effects, unfortunately. The first fireball Trixie conjured nearly burned the whole wagon down, while the other produced copious amounts of carbon monoxide. Luckily, the crystals Trixie had bought in the Crystal Empire went off right in time to prevent her from becoming a frozen exhibit in the distant future when growing pressure on weather teams to have as many warm days as possible caused the snows of Yakyakistan to melt.

The third fireball was perfectly safe, but unfortunately, it was more or less as warm as a safety match. Still, it filled the inside of the wagon with at least some warmth.

That is, until suddenly someone opened the door, letting all the cold in the world in. Or, in proper physical terms, letting the heat out.

“The Storm King is dead!” the pony yelled.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie obscenities in the milk of the whore that is the Storm King’s mother!” Trixie shouted from under her blankets.

There was a moment of brief and cold silence. “Is that good or bad?”

“Just close the fucking door and get out!” Trixie levitated the fireball and threw it at the intruder. She heard a scream, followed by the hissing of the melting snow and the door closing.

“Good,” she muttered, burying herself under the blankets.

“You owe Trixie two thousand bits,” Trixie muttered, staring at Tempest.

“Why?” Tempest asked. “I had to tell everyone!”

“Do you know how hard it is to find a doctor in Yakyakistan whose idea of curing pneumonia doesn’t involve cupping therapy and yak milk enema?” Trixie huffed. “I wasted a perfectly good fireball for your sorry arse!”

Starlight cleared her throat and pulled Trixie away from Tempest. “Would you kindly not yell at her? She’s a bit unstable when yelled at,” she whispered.

“Unstable?” Trixie rolled her eyes and rushed to Tempest. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will show you how unstable she can get when she doesn’t get enough sleep!”

Tempest furrowed her eyebrows, staring down at Trixie. “And what will you do? Sneeze on me?”

“Trixie once enslaved the whole town and put it under a glass dome!” Trixie exclaimed.

“Oh really? In case it escaped The Great and Powerful Trixie’s attention, Storm King and I enslaved the whole Equestria, we turned three princesses into stone and made everyone my bitch!” Tempest exclaimed, poking Trixie’s chest with her hoof. A few sparkles escaped her horn.

Starlight stood between them, firing a spell at the ceiling. A rain of crystal shards and fried spiders fell on her head, but that didn’t stop her. “I made the whole Equestria my bitch so hard that no one even noticed! I went back in time and screwed it so much that there’s at least a dozen of alternate Equestrias where ponies keep screaming because of me! And another dozen where they don’t! Do you know why?” She smiled, baring her teeth. “Because. They. Are. All. Dead.”

“Whoa, dude,” Tempest muttered. “Calm down, no need to be violent.”

“I can show you violence!” Starlight exclaimed. “You’ll be begging me to stop.”

“Stop,” Trixie said. “Can you let Trixie sleep first and then show her how big is your violence? Or maybe calm down, go to the toilet, play with your hooves... “ She cleared her throat. “Or maybe play buckball. It does wonders when it comes to containing negative emotions.”

“I would, but I can’t.” Starlight glared at Tempest.

“Hey!” Tempest exclaimed. “It’s me who got banned by the Equestrian Buckball Federation, not you.”

“Yes, but you ruined the field.”

“How do you even do that?” Trixie asked.

Nurse Sweetheart dug in the dirt with her hoof and sniffed it. “Still wet. The ball is gonna get heavy.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?” Nurse Redheart chuckled, pointing at her friends’ flank which was firmly on its way to achieve the shape of the ball.

“Oh, shut up,” Sweetheart muttered. “I’m not worried about myself, but about her.” She pointed at the tall unicorn who joined Cheerilee and Raindrops as the newest member of Wicked Mares, yet another team that hoped to break the streak of ten consecutive wins for Ponyville General Hospital.

“Looks like a tough player,” Redheart said.

“And that’s why I’m in the team, not you,” Sweetheart replied. “See how carefully she levitates that bucket around? She’s afraid. I can smell her fear.”

“Have you been drinking with Faint Heart again?” Redheart asked.

“With High Fever.” Sweetheart pointed at the pegasus doctor who just entered the field alongside Dr. Stable. “And we didn’t stop at drinking.”

“Eww…” Redheart winced. “This guy is sixty.”

“I can call him daddy, then.” Sweetheart smirked. “Okay, time to play with other balls…”

Redheart moved aside, trotting to the place for the medical crew. Sweetheart, meanwhile, started her warm-up; she grabbed a ball and hit it with her hoof, sending it spinning towards Dr. Stable’s basket. Looking at Cheerilee, she threw a couple of other balls into the basket.

Cheerilee only smirked, to which Sweetheart winced. She’d spent hours in the empty corridors of the hospital perfecting her curveballs so that they’d fool even the fastest pegasi, not to mention dimwits such as Sunshower Raindrops.

Finally, the referee stood in the middle of the pitch and threw the ball into the air. Sweetheart soon found out why Cheerilee was smirking – it was simple physics. Maybe if they were spherical horses in a vacuum it’d work differently, but in reality, Sweetheart was much more spherical than Cheerilee and possessed a somewhat greater mass. In other words, it took her a while to start running while Cheerilee already got the ball.

“Oh, come on…” Sweetheart muttered when Cheerilee lobbed the ball over Dr. High Fever. Her aim, however, was slightly off – the ball looked like it was going to land far from the basket. Sweetheart chuckled; she was too precise for such things to happen.

Tempest looked at the falling red ball and rushed to it, yanking the bucket with her magic. Sparks shot out of the stub of her horn. She raised her hooves, her expression suddenly changing to the look of pure horror.

Due to her weight, Sweetheart would take a while to get going. However, once she did, the momentum meant that nothing short of a thick, concrete wall could stop her. And if she didn’t know that a magical explosion meant that she had to run like hell, she wouldn’t still have all her limbs at the age of thirty-six.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, grabbing Cheerilee’s vest with her teeth and pulling her out of the way of the blast, followed by a cloud of dust and Dr. High Fever who flew above them with his mane and tail on fire. Sweetheart dodged the remains of Tempest’s bucket, turned into splinters and shrapnel, and kicked the flying ball with her hind legs, sending it back into Tempest’s forehead and knocking her down.

As the dust fell, Sweetheart looked around, scanning her surroundings. There was a huge crater right in front of Tempest. Behind Sweetheart, Redheart poured the contents of a fire extinguisher on Dr. High Fever, who raised his head and looked at Dr. Stable.

“Is there a doctor in the house?” he muttered before passing out.

“Okay, I might have done some damage…” Tempest blushed.

Starlight rolled her eyes. “A big crater in the middle of the field, ten injured spectators, one injured player who happens to be an expert in reconstructive horn surgery, one filly threatening to sue everyone because the trauma caused her to spontaneously change her tail colour–”

“To brown?” Trixie asked.

“Blue,” Starlight replied. “Her mane is red, yellow, and dark pink.”

“Ah, it’s Toola Roola,” Trixie replied. “Don’t believe her, she’s a fraud and she’s banned from Trixie’s shows forever for pulling the same stunt.”

Starlight ignored her. “Also, Tempest told that Equestrian Buckball Association official to get fucked when he said she could still play if she legally registered as an earth pony…”

“Well, who’d agree to that?” Trixie walked to Tempest and patted her back. “You go, girl.”

“That High Fever is not even a great surgeon,” Tempest muttered. “He said he couldn’t fix my horn.”

“It’d be easier if you kept the missing bit,” Starlight replied. “Also, the worst part is that Cheerilee asked me to be Tempest’s replacement and do you know how hard it is to–”

“It’d be easier if your training regime didn’t consist of a bottle of whisky in your office every night,” Tempest deadpanned.

“I don’t have an alcohol problem,” Starlight said.

“The big nurse says otherwise,” Tempest replied.

A reddish spark appeared in Starlight’s eyes. “The big nurse is in for some flensing, then…”

“Back in the Storm King’s army, we once flensed a seapony,” Tempest said. “Those were fun ti–” She paused, seeing Starlight’s expression. “Umm… More knowledge than you’re comfortable with?”

“Yeah, especially since I met some seaponies.” Starlight winced. “Anyway, we’d better tell Trixie the big news before she–” She looked around, only to find out that Trixie had sneaked into the bed and immediately fell asleep. “Okay, nevermind.”

Trixie slept for the better part of the day, waking up only to shamelessly raid Twilight’s fridge, despite Spike and Tempest watching her over the afternoon cup of coffee. Ignoring them, she finished her hastily thrown together meal and walked to the toilet.

As soon as she opened the door, she was greeted with a sight of a local newspaper being levitated in such a way that it almost completely obscured the pony reading it. Trixie noticed an article mentioning the Apple Family Reunion, but she didn’t bother with that too much.

“Hi, Starlight,” Trixie said with a chuckle. “When you’re done doing whatever you’re doing, come to me. Trixie has a lot to tell you.” She shrugged. “Hmm, with so many weirdos wandering around this castle one’d think Twilight would teach you to lock the door…”

The newspaper lowered, revealing no one else but Twilight Sparkle. She looked back at Trixie, frowning. Trixie facehooved mentally, realising that she’d forgotten what colour Starlight’s magic aura was.

“Hello, Trixie,” Twilight muttered. “How long have you been here?”

“Shorter than the big, scarred weirdo,” Trixie replied, smiling sheepishly. “Also, it’s a big castle and you got it completely for free, on the virtue of being royalty. Trixie always thought the rich should share their wealth.”

“I’m not rich.” Twilight blushed. “Also, everycreature is welcome in my castle, but I’d prefer they’d tell me first, you know.”

“Everycreature?” Trixie raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

“I felt ‘everypony’ wasn’t inclusive enough, especially now, when changelings, yaks, seaponies–”

“Wouldn’t ‘everyone’ do?” Trixie asked.

Twilight’s jaw dropped. She raised her hoof and opened her mouth, but then propped her jaw with her hoof, staring at Trixie unsurely.

“Trixie will look for another toilet while you figure this shit out,” Trixie said before closing the door.

She walked down the corridor, trying to find a toilet. After a while, however, she got pretty sure that either her memory was really bad or the rooms in Twilight’s castle kept changing places.

Eventually, she opened some door and suddenly found herself in a large hall where several ponies sat on the floor, each with a mug of cider in front of them. When Trixie looked closer, she noticed that only a few of them were, in fact, ponies. She noticed a hippogriff, a young dragon, a yak, a changeling, and a griffon – if any of those wanted to go to a bar, the bartender would surely think it was some kind of a joke. And between them was Starlight Glimmer herself, pouring more cider into her mug.

“This is a friendship-building exercise and it’s a non-alcoholic cider, I swear,” Starlight muttered without looking at Trixie. “Also, never have I ever wore a lampshade on my head.”

The greenish pony, the hippogriff, and a white unicorn filly took a sip of their cider.

“Why are you playing Never Have I Ever with kids?” Trixie asked.

“Oh, it’s you!” Starlight looked at Trixie and smiled. “I’m a guidance counsellor. I’m guiding and counselling. Meet my students, Gallus, Yona, Sandbar, Ocellus, Silverstream, and Smolder, and my assistants, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom.”

“You’re guiding and counselling by playing Never Have I Ever?” Trixie raised her eyebrows.

“Twilight said craps, poker, and blackjack are not friendship-building enough.” Starlight shrugged. “You can complain to her.”

“Twilight is currently having more crap on her mind,” Trixie replied. “What are you all doing here anyway?”

“You’re really behind,” Scootaloo said. “Haven’t you heard about the School of Friendship?”

“Never have I ever,” Trixie muttered.

“We all did!” Silverstream exclaimed. “That means you have to drink.”

“Trixie is not playing,” Trixie replied with a huff.

“Aww, too bad…” Silverstream said. “Never have I ever buried a dead body in the snow.”

Everyone looked at her with varying degrees of disgust and surprise for a moment. Then, Starlight, Yona, and Scootaloo sipped their drinks.

Trixie shrugged. “Okay, give me a drink. I don’t need to go to the toilet that much and Trixie sees you already got to the interesting questions.”

Starlight smiled sheepishly. “That reminds me… Applejack wanted to talk with you.”

“Who the hell is Applejack?” Trixie asked.

Starlight raised her eyebrows. “Umm, the bearer of the Element of Honesty? They teach that stuff in schools, even this one.”

“Never has Trixie ever gone to school,” Trixie said, causing everyone at the table to take a sip of their drinks. “She learned to read from a clown back in the circus.” She shrugged. “To think about it, Trixie still wonders what is Wise Penny up to...”

“I’ve never been to a circus,” Sweetie Belle muttered. “Rarity said it’s a plebeian form of entertainment, just like magic shows.”

“Ya shoulda said ‘never have I ever been to a circus’,” Apple Bloom said.

Starlight and a few of her students drank their cider anway. Trixie looked at Sweetie Belle and sighed. “Tell your sister that judging by how gaudy and noveau riche her tastes are, circus is a perfect place for her.” She stood up. “And no, I’m not going to see Applejack.”

“But Applejack will definitely see you,” Starlight said, but the only response was the slamming door. Her eye twitched when she realised everyone was looking at her. “Umm… How about we play truth or dare?”

Trixie spent the next few days loitering about the Twilight’s castle and, occasionally, the School of Friendship, minding her business and avoiding any social interaction. She planned to do that until Starlight and the rest of Ponyville returned to the usual level of crazy or when it was time for her to travel around Equestria again, whichever came first.

It worked fine for the most part, except that one time when Starlight caught her and asked her to become a substitute teacher, which didn’t end all that well. Twilight had to deal with Nurse Sweetheart and several other complainers who became rather salty after Starlight ruined the buckball pitch again. After Twilight calmed down, Starlight approached Trixie and asked her to help her with some research on draconequii; more exactly, how to zap one so it’d never come back. Trixie politely refused and decided to go on a trip around Ponyville.

This led her to Sweet Apple Acres where, to her surprise, she found Tempest lying down on a pink blanket under an apple tree, sipping some juice. The image was so absurd that Trixie couldn’t help but chuckle; a looming killing machine just enjoying herself in a scenic environment.

“Hello,” Trixie said. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, at first I was over there,” Tempest pointed at the distant group of trees, “but some mare with a curly, orange mane told me not to sit on her grave, so I decided to leave.”

“No, Trixie means what are you doing here in gene–” The gears in Trixie’s head skid to a halt with a terrible scraping sound and then began spinning in the opposite direction. “Wait, what?”

“Actually, it was Applejack who told me to get out of her mother’s grave, but still.” Tempest shrugged. “Also, she’s looking for you. You know, that thing about the reunion.”

“Trixie keeps hearing about it,” Trixie replied. “What’s the big deal about it?”

Tempest shrugged. “Starlight explained it to me, once,” she whispered. “Apparently ninety percent of earth ponies in Equestria are in some way related to Apples. Hence why it’s such a big event. Even I am partially an Apple. Some crazy auntie with a lot of cats said uncle Wild Thornberry, the one who died after being crushed by a barrel of cider, married auntie Antonovka and, after a couple of generations, they ended up with, among the others, me and my cousin Berry Punch.”

“Smashing,” Trixie muttered. “But Trixie is not an Apple. Her mother comes from a respectful family of circus artists, dating back to the pre-Celestial era.”

“What about your father?” Tempest asked, but quickly reconsidered her question. “Wait, he went to buy cigarettes, right?”

“Trixie thinks smoking killed him.” Trixie shrugged, furrowing her eyebrows and looking at the farmhouse. Her ears perked up when she heard the raised voices. “Why do they keep yelling at each other?”

“Earth ponies.” Tempest shrugged. “Also, Apple Family Reunion without someone going full Starlight is not a reunion. Or so I’ve heard.”

Suddenly, Applejack left the house, slamming the door. She let out a heavy sigh and looked around until her eyes focused on Trixie. It was one of these stares that usually made Trixie check her hat for more smoke bombs and look up potential escape routes. Back in her younger years, such a stare was usually accompanied by different variations on the “hey, where is my wallet?” line.

“You.” Applejack approached Trixie, still glaring at her. “Caught ya eventually. Come with me.”

“Trixie would rather go somewhere else, like Saddle Arabia.” Trixie took a step back, lighting up her horn.

“Ah’m not gonna hurt ya,” Applejack said. “Leave that smoke thingies and don’t run away. Ah will find ya if I have to.” A faint smirk adorned her face. “Everywhere.”

Trixie stopped trying to hide behind Tempest and stood up. “Then what do you want from Trixie?”

“To show ya somethin’,” Applejack replied. “Ah gotta tell, it may not be nice. It all started with mah granny goin’ back from Las Pegasus–”

“If she lost your farm in a poker game, then Trixie can’t help,” Trixie said, walking with Applejack to the farmhouse. “She got kicked out from all the casinos in Las Pegasus for some reason and she doesn’t perform there. This wanker Gladmane can suck his–”

“Gladmane is no longer in Las Pegasus,” Applejack replied. “The thing is, mah Granny came back from Las Pegasus with a stallion and she wants to marry him.”

“Eww…” Trixie winced. “What do old ponies and their love lives have to do with Trixie?”

“Hey! Granny Smith ain’t that old!” Applejack furrowed her eyebrows. “Okay, maybe a little… As for yer question, look for yerself…”

They walked into the kitchen. Trixie stood still, seeing the stallion sitting at the table with Granny Smith.

“Ah want ya to meet somepony, Jack Pot,” Applejack said. “She’s a travelling magician, like ya.”

Trixie frowned, her face pale. She looked at her hooves and then back at the stallion.

Jack Pot raised his eyebrows. “Did we meet before?” he asked.

“Of that Trixie is sure…” Trixie slowly walked towards the table.

“T-trixie?” Jack Pot shuddered, sweating profusely. “Umm… You sure grew up.”

“Oh, I surely did.” Trixie put her hooves on the table. “The question is where have you been the whole time? Trixie doesn’t think buying cigarettes takes twenty-odd years.”

“Well, I was about to come back, but there was this huge opportunity and I just had to–” Jack Pot looked around, as if searching for smoke bombs and potential escape routes. Words failed him; only a few, like “huge cash”, “moon falling from the sky”, and “an old and wise snail told me” were discernible.

“Oh, don’t tell Trixie tall tales, she knows them all,” Trixie said.

Jack Pot lowered his head. “You’re truly my daughter, I must admit. How’s mom?”

“She fell off a unicycle,” Trixie replied.

“Sorry to hear that.” Granny Smith turned to Jack Pot. “But that means ya are a fair game now, right?”

“What?” Trixie exclaimed. “Why do you two even want to marry? Trixie doesn’t want to be a sister of this–” She turned back and paused, seeing that Applejack was much closer to her than she had previously thought.

“Wouldn’t ya be mah aunt?” Applejack asked, her eyebrows furrowed in that very particular way only Applejack could pull off.

“Whatever!” Trixie exclaimed. “Trixie doesn’t want to be your aunt, sister, or anything just because this motherfucker–”

“Interesting choice of words,” Jack Pot deadpanned, embracing Granny Smith. “Trixie, the thing is–” He met with a sudden interruption when a beam of Trixie’s magic flew past him, breaking the kitchen window. “Now that was just rude!” he exclaimed, conjuring a shield. Another magical beam bounced off it, leaving a scorched mark on the ceiling.

Tempest walked into the kitchen and stood next to Applejack, watching the fight unraveling in front of them. “Why do they keep yelling at each other?” she asked.

“Unicorns,” Applejack replied. A stray bolt flew between them, obliterating a potted plant.

“I’ll better stop them before they hurt themselves,” Tempest said.

“Yeah, do that.” Applejack nodded absent-mindedly, too busy watching the fight to even look at Tempest.

Only a few seconds later she realised the full extent of her mistake.

Starlight took a swig from a cider bottle and leaned against a pile of freshly-dug earth. In the distance behind her, the remains of the farmhouse were still smoking. Starlight was trying hard not to look there, but it was just oddly attracting her gaze. Besides, watching a piece of the roof falling from the stratosphere and evaporating just before hitting the ground was not something one could see every day.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “Applejack thought that maybe you could talk your father into not marrying her grandma?”

“More or less,” Trixie replied. Her cape was torn and ragged and she was covered in bandages. Next to her, Granny Smith just finished bandaging Jack Pot’s hooves. Unfortunately, she also tied them together, preventing him from getting up.

“How did this happen then?” Starlight gestured towards the ruins.

“Tempest helped.”

“I see…” Starlight sighed. “Where’s Tempest?”

“Over there.” Trixie pointed at the large hole in the ground behind the pile of earth.

Starlight froze. “Did Applejack kill her?”

Tempest’s head poked out of the ditch. “Not yet!” she exclaimed. “And since I dug this tactical trench, she’s unlikely to ever get me.”

“Did she have something fall on her head?” Starlight asked, looking into the trench. “Also, there are bones sticking from the ground.”

“Yeah, tell that insane weasel to bury them back,” Pear Butter said. “I can’t be seen decomposed like this!”

Starlight looked at Pear Butter and blinked. Then she gave her cider bottle a long glare before throwing it away.

“Something’s wrong, Starlight?” Trixie asked.

“Hepatic encephalopathy, I presume,” Starlight replied, shuddering.

“So, are we waiting here for mah granddaughter to come and lay vengeance upon us?” Granny Smith asked. She just finished gagging Jack Pot with bandages.

“Actually, Trixie was thinking of doing a series of shows,” Trixie said. “In Saddle Arabia or some similarly distant place.”

“I’ve never been to Maretonia, myself.” Starlight shrugged. “Although Saddle Arabia sounds great. The fact that they can’t drink will be helpful.”

“Worry not,” Granny Smith said, dragging Jack Pot away, despite his weak protests. “She won’t get to y’all before rebuildin’ the whole house from scratch. So ya have some time.”

“Great!” Tempest exclaimed. “I can build a bunker. Will you help me? Trixie?”

“Err…” Trixie looked around unsurely. “Did my father even need bandaging?”

Starlight rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Who cares. If we want to get to Saddle Arabia, we’d better get going.” She trembled, turning towards the farmhouse again. “Before Twilight notices the smoke…”

Author's Note

Starlight probably thinks sanity is overrated anyway.