Captain Feathersword realized he had made a terrible mistake.

His insides wrenching in agony, confined to the floor, his hopes and dreams fading quietly away under the penance he had to bear, he did the only thing he could.

"Hoo ooh ooh ooh!" he wailed. "Ooh, too much Christmas food. Too much Christmas food! Hoo, hoo, hoo..."

If only the pain would stop. But his own foolishness, combined with his now understandably overstated BMI, prevented him from even attempting to move himself.

In response to his cries of anguish, help arrived, in the form of Greg and Murray. "Captain Feathersword, what's wrong?" Murray said, clearly shocked at what he was seeing, but with a clear look of worry and concern gracing his brow. Greg's look was unreadable...

Captain Feathersword glanced at the towering pudding in front of him. At this moment in time, it was the second most revolting sight he could see.

In contrition, Captain Feathersword released another wail. "Oooh, hoo." He angrily slapped his overgrown stomach. "Oh, I've had too much Christmas pudding, Murray, and I'm not feeling too good. Hoo, hoo hoo..."

Murray knelt down, giving the pudding a wary look out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, Captain," he said sadly, "there's always lots of great food to eat at Christmas, but you've got to be careful not to eat too much." He shook his head quietly.

The only response Murray got was another heart-wrenching cry.

Greg knelt down then, and turned his face so that the Captain couldn't see his pained expression. "...Captain Feathersword ate five plates of pudding all at the Christmas dinner," Greg said softly. "Three coat buttons popped which made him exclaim..."

Captain Feathersword knew this game, and sat up straighter. "I'm not getting any thinner!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

His scream quickly devolved into sad laughter, which in turn lost itself to the small, resigned wails from before.

Greg and Murray stayed right by their friend's side, each with a hand on his shoulder. They knew.

Captain Feathersword knew, too.

There was no use calling the hospital--it was over in less than five minutes.

Captain Feathersword had died from Christmas Pudding Overdose Syndrome.

Twilight Sparkle realized she had made a terrible mistake.

Gasping in fear, somehow unable to move, powerless to stop the inevitable, she did the only thing she could.

"SPIKE NOOOOO!" she screamed in utter terror.

The direct object of her petition turned around, a glass raised to his lips. "What? What is it?"

"T-that's not...Hearth's w-warming punch," Twilight said, eyes still locked on the glass.

Spike glanced into the glass. "Oh, ok. Well, what is it then? A love poison or something?"

Twilight gulped. "You didn't drink it, did you?"

"No..."

"Oh. Phew." Twilight sighed, a weight lifted off her shoulders. "Uh, no, it's not love poison. That has a more purple-ey look."

Spike nodded, looking thoughtful. "Understandable. So, what is it?"

Twilight narrowed her eyes. "That's just it! I got it as an early present from Ember, of all dragons, and I have no idea what it is or what it could do! What with all the running around I've been doing lately, I haven't even been able to run any tests on it yet!"

"Well that explains that," said Spike. "But...my guess?" He set the glass on the counter next to the ornate bottle it came from. "Is that Ember just wanted to give you something you could enjoy."

Twilight put a hoof to her chin. "Hmmm. I don't doubt it, Spike, but dragon and pony customs, not to mention anatomies, are so different..." she shook her head. "I know I shouldn't be so paranoid, but I really don't want to take any chances."

"Better be safe than sorry, eh?" Spike said, walking towards the door. "I don't really blame ya. Now then," he faced Twilight as he opened the door, "What's next on the party preparations?"

"I think we should focus on the foyer for now," Twilight said, pouring the liquid back into the bottle and putting it high up on a shelf with her magic. "That's going to be the hardest part, I think."

They left the room, but neither of them noticed the bottle beginning to glow a soft pink...

Or the fallen obligatory 'WARNING: DO NOT HANDLE WITH MAGIC' label in the corner of the floor.

For once, everyone was wearing the same color.

The same dark tuxedos graced the chests of all four Wiggles as they stood around their beloved friend's casket.

The service had started hours ago, but the sheer amount of people in the church made things draw out a little longer than anticipated. Not only were Wags the Dog, Dorothy the Dinosaur, Henry the Octopus, and Anthony's Mexican Puppets there, but a wave of civilians had flooded the church as soon as the doors were opened.

It seemed that everyone really did love Captain Feathersword.

Greg shifted, looking at the clock. Time for the eulogies.

He stepped up to the microphone. All eyes were on him as he began.

"Captain Feathersword," he said slowly, "was a very good friend of mine. I hope that he called me as good a friend as I thought of him.

"He had the uncanny ability to turn a frown into a smile wherever he went, whether through his crazy antics, or with his feathersword if worst came to worst." Greg smiled wistfully. "I remember the first time I saw the Captain. Anthony had gotten really sick, and everyone was feeling down...But the Captain just walked into the room right then and there and started singing. Singing the most nonsensical song I had ever heard in my life. Everyone immediately cheered up, even Anthony. Turned out, he knew the Captain, they had been acting buddies in school."

Greg looked thoughtful. "If I was to say what my fondest memory of the Captain was, it was when he first introduced us to his Friendly Pirate Crew...just seeing him with his mates brought me so much joy. He obviously cared about them like a family, and I could see the happiness radiating off of him." Greg wiped a tear from his eye. "I'll miss your boundless optimism, Captain."

Stepping down, Greg was replaced by Jeff, who for once in his life had not fallen asleep. "I knew the Captain very well, but what most people don't know, and this will shock you, I did sleep through most of his cruises."

Polite chuckling came from around the hall.

Jeff smiled softly. "But what I remember most about the Captain was that he never gave up. He always gave a hundred and ten percent to everything he did, and that's something that I admired ever since I met him. He let his passion for what he did show throughout his entire life, and I know he'd be wanting us to do the same. Let's all give our best, for the Captain's memory."

Greg retreated, and next to step up was Murray, who already looked ready to burst into tears. "The Captain...well, I'm sure all four of us can say the same when I say that he was like a brother to me." The other three Wiggles nodded assent. "He was always there to lend a hand when you were having trouble, or a laugh when you were feeling down. He had a way with knowing just what to do." Murray pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his eyes. "A-and when he felt down, we'd be right there to help him back."

"I only hope," Murray said waveringly, "That I can do his memory justice, by helping other people wherever I can. Good show, Captain..."

Murray stepped down, now openly tearing up, and Anthony took the microphone.

For a few seconds, there was silence, save for the quiet sounds of Murray's sobs.

Then Anthony set his jaw. "The Captain...did not have a perfect life," he said. "When I first met him in theater, we became best friends. We did everything together. But one day I found him crying his eyes out over an old picture he had in his dresser. It was of him and his parents."

Anthony closed his eyes, thoughtful. "The Captain's parents left him when he was a small child...they had always been distant. So for most of his childhood, he never had a parent or guardian. He learned how to sail the seas himself.

"He was in a place of utter despair that day. I came in and asked about it, and he told me. He told me that he didn't think he was a good pirate, he never had parents to teach him. You know what I said?"

Anthony nodded. "I told him he was the best pirate I'd ever seen, and I'd seen some pirates in my day. Anyone who could sail the seven seas and still uphold the virtues of kindness and fellowship deserved some credit. I said to just ask his crew. They clearly idolized him. That wouldn't be the case for a bad pirate."

Sniffing, Anthony continued. "The Captain took my words to heart. That old wound, well, it never really healed, but he found something else to put in it. Our friendship. That day he walked in while I was hacking up a lung and started belting out his old sea shanty? I remember that day as one of the greatest of my life, because I knew he had taken a turn for the better."

"In short," Anthony concluded, "The Captain was as human as almost all of us. He made mistakes, he had times of darkness. But it was his resilience and his adherence to his friends that showed he was much more than that. And I thank God that I had him as a friend. May we all take his example to heart."

Anthony stood with his head bowed for a few seconds, and then finally turned.

It was time for the burial.

Author's Note

I know, right?

Well, if you'll give me a minute, this story will very quickly take a turn for the...better? Weirder, definitely.