Captain Feathersword Has Eaten Too Much Christmas Food

by Betless

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Random, Adventure, Death, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Sad, Main 6
Length: 7881

Captain Feathersword eats too much Christmas food

The normal Christmas parties spiral into something out of control. And then get even worse.

For anybody who stumbled upon this, thanks! It means a lot to me. I get a kick out of having something like this just sitting online for someone to accidentally discover. I mean, I didn't exactly do Google SEO on it.

Nobody asked for this, but hey, hapry christmannukwanzaas, everyone.
--Betless

On hiatus while I figure out what the actual heck I'm doing with this and try to prune the last unpublished chapters down from a purple-prose laden genre twist--will be finished, don't know when

Published 2018-12-21 16:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-01-12 00:40:31 UTC

Too Much Christmas Food / Too Much Foreshadowing

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.

Times Have Changed / Judgement's Gaze

"You shop already?"

Spike and Twilight were busy decorating the foyer, stringing up garlands and wreaths as well as setting up tables and chairs for the party tomorrow night.

Twilight looked over her shoulder. "Of course! I always find time to buy my friends presents, no matter how busy I am!"

"You sure?" Spike looked skeptical. "I bet if you were really busy, you'd have at least a little trouble."

"Pfft," said Twilight. "Tell me that next year." and as they continued their decoration, added: "Do you have another red ribbon?"

"Yep!" said Spike, tossing a roll to the hovering Twilight. "We're all out now, though."

Twilight beamed. "Perfect! This was the last one."

Spike adjusted a chair. "Well, you don't say. Looks like that's the last of the chairs, too--is that all?"

They looked around the festively decorated foyer. It looked the very picture of holiday cheer and warmth.

"We will need a tree," Twilight said, "but Applejack's coming by tomorrow morning for that. For right now, I'd like to test out a really fun spell I found."

Spike put on his football helmet and pillows. "Uh, what kind of spell?"

"Relax, Spike, it's just a simple decoration spell." She lit up her horn, and a grey cloud appeared on the ceiling far above. Snow fell from it, drifting lazily down to the floor, where it disappeared.

Twilight clapped her hooves. "Aha! Looks like it works. How do you like it, Spike?"

Spike took off his protective gear. "I'm not gonna lie, Twilight, this is really cool. But," he frowned. "What if it gets in somepony's drink?"

"That's what's so ingenious about this particular spell, Spike--the snowflakes disappear before they touch anything," explained Twilight, whose eyes lit up at the prospect. "This is one of the ancient epicurean sorcerer Snow Flake's spells, and although I don't agree with many of his life choices, I respect his eye for detail."

"Huh." Spike walked over to a falling snowflake and stretched out his hand. When it reached his hand, it vanished in a small, gentle glow. "Neat."

Twilight was about to launch into a frankly fascinating lecture on Snow Flake and the Epicureans of old, when she was interrupted by Spike's massive yawn.

"Sorry," Spike mumbled. "Shifting all those chairs took a lot out of me."

"Oh, that's alright," said Twilight, a little disappointed. "We should probably get some sleep anyways--it's a big day tomorrow, right?"

"Sure thing," said Spike, yawning again, his eyes drooping. "G'night, Twilight!" He left, muttering something to himself.

Twilight stifled a yawn and made to follow him, but then suddenly remembered. "Oh...Ember's present! Maybe I should do some tests on it now, before I forget..."

Rerouting herself to the kitchen, she started speculating, coming up with a plan for identifying the unknown substance.

And just like that, Captain Feathersword was no more than a gravestone and the fond memories of his friends.

Everyone else had already left the service, but Greg, Murray, Jeff, and Anthony all still stood around the rectangle of shifted dirt that marked the Captain's final resting place.

A marble headstone stood tall and proud, its epigraph recording for all time who lay there:

HERE LIES CAPTAIN FEATHERSWORD
A GOOD FRIEND
A FRIENDLY PIRATE
A PIRATE FOR GOOD

IF ONLY WE COULD SEE MORE SPIRIT LIKE HIS

Greg looked around at his friends. "It's what he would have wanted," he said softly.

Murray nodded assent, still wiping his eyes with his handkerchief.

Jeff's eyes were starting to close, but loyal to his friend's memory, he dutifully kept them open.

Anthony stood, his hands clasped in front of him. "Yes," he responded. "He would have wanted this."

Silence fell for a few minutes.

Finally Anthony turned around. "Come on, fellas," he said. "One thing he wouldn't want is for us to feel too sad for him. He may be gone, but he'd want us to live just as well as before."

The other three nodded, and began to follow him.

Only to be interrupted.

A deep, droning, whirring noise, punctuated by rapid, almost tinnitus-like clicking, suddenly came from behind them.

Whirling around, the four friends witnessed a strange sight.

There, just beside the grave, hovering in the middle of the air, a point of light hung, emitting the strange noise. As they watched, it split into eight different points, forming a massive octehedron. Glowing a glaring white, the strange shape slowly descended until it touched the ground.

The light receded, leaving a sleek red sports car with colorful wheels.

The Wiggles stared. "Is..." Greg started. "Is that...?"

The door to the car opened upward like a DeLorean, and out stepped a tall, scruffy man wearing a faded yellow trench coat and wide sunglasses. He walked purposefully towards them.

Upon reaching the four, the new arrival looked them over critically, and finally spoke, in a cheery Australian accent worn down by years of toil. "You the Wiggles?" he asked.

"Yeah...who's asking?" said Anthony. Him and his three friends stood ready to fight if need be, wary of this new development.

"Oh good," said the sunglasses-wearing man. "I was afraid I'd missed a year. As for who I am..."

He took off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of deep-set, knowing brown eyes. "I've come from the future to help prevent a terrible catastrophe. My name is Sam, Sam Moran--and I'm the last Wiggle."

Twilight, magic laden with various chemical apparatuses and incomprehensibly complicated devices, walked determinedly towards the pantry, muttering to herself.

"I know Ember wouldn't send me something dangerous..." She stopped short for a minute, then resumed her walking. "Scratch that, I know she wouldn't send me anything too dangerous...but why send me something unlabled? Too many risks are involved."

Opening the door, she started setting up the devices on the counter. "Maybe she was sending a letter with an explanation in it, and it just got lost in the mail. That'd be understandable, Ponyville mail isn't the most reliable." She stuck her tongue out a little, carefully adjusting the nozzle of a titration buret. "But then again, Ember's not too keen on writing. ...Does she even know how to read?"

Twilight froze solid. Does she even know how to read?

Finally, she shivered. "Oooh, I don't even want to think about that...but it would explain why there wasn't a label."

But as she continued her adjustments, that thought kept circling through her head, and she could already tell that she'd be having nightmares that night. Let's just hope Princess Luna won't laugh at me too much...

Her preparations complete for a veritable smorgasbord of magical, chemical, and physical testing, she walked around the corner to the shelf.

The drink was glowing a dark pink.

By itself, a pink drink was not terribly concerning to Twilight, whose experience as a friend of Pinkie Pie's had desensitized her to such flagrant subversion of evolutionary instinct.

However, a pink drink that is also glowing is a bad sign in any book.

Pulling it down off the shelf with her magic and setting it down on the counter, she peered closely at it.

"That's funny," she mused to herself, "It looks brighter than it was a second ago."

She started pouring it in small amounts through her various contraptions. It didn't react to any of her alloys or oxidize from any of her oxidants. It didn't diffuse when poured through her magic strength filter, although the readings went off the charts. It didn't even dilute--the small drop Twilight placed in water merely turned the water the same shade of glowing pink.

She was concentrating so much, she didn't even notice when Spike walked by and greeted her with a "Good morning! I've got some shopping to do today, so I'll be out!"

Even more befuddled than before, Twilight took a drop and worked through her spell identification algorithm. The results were more strangeness: not only did no organized spell exist, but the drink literally flowed with raw, almost living magic.

"What was Ember thinking? This thing just builds up more magic every time I look at it. If it keeps going..." Her eyes grew wide.

"Oh no," she realized. "It'd incinerate the castle! I've got to get this thing out of here!" She poured all the drops back into the bottle, picked it up, and prepared to teleport.

As the last pieces of the complex spell fell into place, Twilight noticed a slip of paper under the counter. 'WARNING: DO NOT HANDLE WITH MAGIC,' it said.

In what seemed like slow motion, Twilight finally realized why the drink seemed to glow brighter every second.

Combined with the fact that a teleportation spell is one of the most magic-heavy spells in the book.

Too late, Twilight realized.

And with a soft 'pouf' that completely ruined the mood, she was gone.

The Epicureans were an ancient group of ponies purely devoted to the pursuit and experience of pleasure. However, the modern definitions of the word have somewhat tarnished their reputations. Rather than exemplifying the selfish, obsessive nature that many authors and historical writers have popularized, the original Epicureans were dedicated to living modestly, increasing their knowledge, and limiting their own desires. Of course, this dedication to modesty came with some restrictions on the study of magic--those in the school of Epicureanism were strictly forbidden to use magic in any way physically helpful to themselves. Relieved of such strenuous yet personally beneficial magical studies as the other scholars of the time, they rather turned their thoughts towards aesthetic spells, spells useless enough to warrant their study yet enjoyable to watch or experience. Some of the most widely used spells in history have come from these groups of Epicureans, especially from the reclusive Snow Flake.

--Ancient Philosophy for Foals by Clear Sight, Revised by Twilight Sparkle.

Author's Note

I don't write these because I know they're any good--they're not.
I don't write these cause I want attention like the whiny narcissist I am--even though I definitely am one.

I write these because they freaking make me happy at the fact that a human being can unironically enjoy something so stupid.

Even if the only human being that does is me.
See you next week

Rhapsody in Jeff / Legal According to Pinkie

"Wait," Greg said. "You mean to say you're from the future? How do you expect us to believe that?"

Nodding, Sam smiled. "I thought you might say that. Did you not notice the Big Red Time Machine?" He gestured behind him to the sleek red car. "The Big Red Car was one of the first casualties of the invasion, but enough of it survived to serve a new purpose as humanity's only hope."

Anthony narrowed his eyes. "I don't know how much of that I believe. What happened after our time that made it so crucial to come back and fix it?"

"Shall I explain?" Sam sighed. "The memories are still fresh in my mind...I don't like to bring them up, but, for the sake of convincing the four of you, I'll make an exception."

"In the year 2036..."

In the year 2036, astronomers across the globe noticed that the Eridanus Supervoid had changed temperatures. Not only had the surrounding space heated up a few degrees, but something in the vast empty void was emitting light. In the scramble to fix their telescopes on this new light, they discovered something incredible: new life. New, sentient life. Three massive egg-shaped spaceships, all with lasers trained on the Earth. Unfortunately, as time passed, it quickly became apparent that the spaceships were travelling nearly as fast as the light they emitted, and before a week had passed, the ships had already come to a stop within our own asteroid belt. Broadcasting a message in sixty different languages simultaneously from all over the world, these aliens quickly showed their technological prowess and revealed their interest in our world. Of all things, these new lifeforms desired music above all else. If we didn't give them music, they'd enslave our race and force us to perform for them. This was met with relief by those open-minded enough, as all conflicts could be solved with the donation of the Internet's music databases, but unfortunately most of us were too stubborn to see the aliens as anything other than a threat. It only took one or two to deviate from the diplomatic plans before the aliens rescinded their offer and began the invasion. Humanity, in my own present, is either dead, enslaved to mindlessly perform music, or in desperate hiding and resistance against the alien threat.

Sam sighed again. "It's really rather sad, too, because when the aliens brainwash any of the humans they capture, all the soul of the music goes away. Music shouldn't be forced--the best songs always write themselves with time. Does that cover enough of why I've decided to come back?"

Everyone nodded, but Greg added: "But when you say you're the last Wiggle, do you mean..."

Sorrowfully hanging his head, Sam said, "Yes. You four were some of the first of the resistance. Unfortunately, that also means that you were some of the first to...leave us." He looked away. "I remember the day Australia heard the news. That's another of the reasons I can't let this future happen."

Murray scratched his chin. "But why couldn't you stop the few people that antagonized the aliens? That would've solved the problem fine, right?"

"I did," Sam said. "I went back and I stopped them so many times. I've been travelling through time, constantly about to change things--just to be stopped by myself telling me not to do it--for years now, trying to stop everything from turning so bad, and it's all been for nothing. Nothing I do seems to affect how the aliens attack the Earth, or if it does, it just makes everything worse!"

He took a moment to calm himself down. "I kept changing small, subtle things, and I finally came to the conclusion that there was one event that started everything. I narrowed it down to 1996, and then I narrowed it down to the Christmas season...Finally, I realized. It was the death of Captain Feathersword."

Jeff and Murray gasped, but Anthony raised an eyebrow, and Greg responded suspiciously. "And what does that have to do with us?"

"Because," said Sam, "I can't do this alone. I've tried, but I'll need you four to help stop him from dying in the first place." Raising his hands in a placating fashion, he continued. "I understand if this seems a little out of left field for you, but I have no other options left. Will you please, please, help me? If only for his sake, not mine."

Practically on his knees at this point, Sam's eyes teared up, his resolve fading. The Wiggles turned to each other, having a short but important glance between them.

Finally, Anthony stepped up. "I don't know much about you, Sam, but I do recognize the truth when I hear it. And if it really means the Captain can come back?"

He nodded in tandem with the other three. "Then count us in."

Finally. Spike could finally get around to getting that sweet Hearth's Warming present for Rarity.

Oh, he'd had his eyes on it for a while now. Just the sort of thing that she'd truly admire. Something so perfect it'd give her a conniption!

...That's actually really bad, maybe not. Howabout a fit of the vapors? Ehhh...nah...

Regardless, Spike strode confidently down the streets of Ponyville, sure of himself. A fire ruby is one thing, but he'd already got her one. What about a hope diamond! Those were the rarest type of gemstone in Equestria! Just owning one was said to grant one a long and happy life, and it'd be just perfect for Rarity.

Of course, he'd have to keep himself from eating it on the way, but...for Rarity? He was...reasonably sure he could pull it off...

He'd burn that bridge when he came to it. Anyway, the diamond was at one of the lesser-known antique stores in town. Only someone like Twilight would ever have set hoof in that place, let alone Rarity! So there was no possible way she could have known about it. Bad news--it was almost ridiculously expensive. Good news--Spike had a substantial amount of funds left over from his Crystal Empire episode. Turns out, saving a kingdom gets one a few fans, and for a while he was constantly getting letters from grateful crystal ponies--and not a small amount of bits to boot. He tried sending a few back, but they'd always come back to him with a note insisting that he keep them, as a thank you. So, he'd just hang on to them. He knew Twilight would find out if he'd kept 'em in the castle (that mare was a machine when it came to cleaning), but he had a strategy that'd hit two birds with one stone, sorry, Fluttershy.

Since he knew he couldn't keep getting bits without resorting to greed-induced bigness, he came up with something rather clever. He'd ask a new pony (that he could trust, of course) every couple of days to watch a package for him, and while they usually were a little suspicious, nopony ever gave him any trouble about it. That way, he'd technically still own the bits, but he didn't have them.

Of course Pinkie found out, and she had some really strange ideas...she'd had an idea for investments, and he'd taken her up on the offer. That scheme somehow multiplied his cash by an exorbitant sum, and in a time of weakness, he'd asked Pinkie whether it was actually legal or not. To his utmost relief, she'd explained in precise detail what the laws surrounding it were and assured him that it was completely inside the law.

She also did try to explain why telling ponies to take care of a package for him was a bad idea, but he'd stopped listening after a while.

Anyway, he'd just cashed in just about all of his pony-protected money mounds, and soon enough that diamond would be all his...to give to Rarity, of course.

Walking up to the counter, he spotted the proprietor, who surprisingly, seemed much less ancient than his wares. "Hey, can I have that diamond please?" he asked sweetly. This was gonna be good.

The stallion eyed him suspiciously. "What? The only hope diamond we have? Please. You don't know how much it's worth."

"Actually," Spike said, "I do. Seven hundred thousand bits."

The proprietor only laughed. "Sure thing, son. Well, you got a picture ID?"

Spike let out a small green breath of fire, leaving a golden seal on his palm. "Spike the Dragon, obviously. Here you are." The proprietor looked it over in his hoof, huffed, and chucked it back to Spike. "Looks in order," he said. "Well," he continued, a flicker of a smirk crossing his face, "you got the money, kid?"

The proprietor couldn't help but chuckle condescendingly at his own joke, if you could call it that. Spike merely smiled innocently, taking a massive bag of bits and placing it on the counter.

The laughing ceased abruptly.

"Not...bad," said the proprietor, forehead now perspirating. "But this isn't seven hundred thousa..." But he trailed off as Spike lifted bag after bag of jangling bits seemingly from nowhere. Soon, seven massive sacks of pure, unblemished, unadulterated moolah sat on the counter.

The proprietor's eyes simply couldn't get any wider. He just sat there, mouth working but no sound coming out.

After about a minute, he closed his mouth, walked over to the diamond case, unlocked it, placed the diamond in its case, and handed it to Spike. "I don't know how you got all this," he said in a whisper, "But I sure as Tartarus don't wanna. Have a wonderful day."

Spike smiled again and stepped outside with his boxed diamond. "Thanks, Pinkie. You really have a flair for the dramatic."

The addressed pony, dressed in a ninja suit, stepped from behind a barrel. "Just doing my job! You can always count on me to know where the bits are!" A hoof-bump and a wink from Pinkie later, Spike was left to walk back to the castle with gift firmly in claw. How nice of the proprietor to box it! That made not eating it a whole lot easier.

Spike had finally had a good day, and was feeling just peachy. So peachy, in fact, that he missed the small tremor that ran through the ground followed immediately by an abyssal, crunchy rumble.

He was too busy humming the fan favorite 'Spike the Brave and Glorious.'

Turns out, the Big Red Time Machine was bigger on the inside.

What was with time machines and that, anyway?

Or so Anthony thought as he entered through the DeLorean style door. The references never seemed to end.

"Alright," said Sam. "So I don't know exactly what to do here, but I know that the cause of the Captain's death was CPOS. If we want to stop his death, we'll have to somehow stop him from eating too much Christmas Pudding." He pulled up a small hologram-style screen showing a bunch of lines like a tree. "Turns out the timeline splits right at the moment the Captain leaves this mortal coil, and if we want to bring all the lines back into the one it was supposed to be all along, we'll have to stop him from dying."

"Sounds simple enough," said Murray. Jeff had already found a comfy sofa and promptly fallen asleep, the events of that day too much for him.

Sam frowned and shook his head. "It may seem that way, but any effort on my part is either too easily noticed or doesn't work. I can't get close enough to work well, this party is very exclusive." Turning to the three conscious Wiggles, he nodded. "That's where you come in. If you can manage to stay away from your past selves and steal two of the Puddings, that should be enough to keep the Captain from overdosing. What do you think?"

After a brief discussion, the three nodded. "I think," said Greg, "it just might work. Crazy, yes, but then again, we're the Wiggles. What hasn't been crazy?"

Sam nodded, a wry smile on his face. "Then that's what we'll do. Also, is Jeff going to be asleep the whole time?"

Him and the three Wiggles stared at the peacefully slumbering form.

"We could honestly probably do it without him," Anthony said, only to add, "What?"

Frowning, Murray had turned on him. "And betray Jeff? No. He's just as important as any of us, Anthony, and you know that."

Anthony had the grace to be ashamed. "Sorry, Murray...yeah, I do know. At least we know how to wake him up."

Greg turned to Sam. "You want to help?"

His response was a wide grin. "I'd be more than happy to."

And in unison, the three of them chanted, "Three, two, one..."

What About the Fruitcake? / Overenthusiastic Photon Slider

Just wait until Twilight found out what he'd got in his hot little claws! She'd be baffled to bits! Spike could already picture the look on her face.

"Spike?" she'd say, eyes wide, wings flaring in confusion. "Is that a hope diamond?" She'd pace slowly towards and around him, unable to believe he'd got one.

"Yep," he'd innocently reply. "I bought it for Rarity! Do you think she'll like it?"

"Like it?" Twilight would teleport right beside him, looking down at him with suspicious eyebrows. "This is the rarest stone in Equestria! Where in Celestia's name could you have got all the money!"

He'd only grin. "Pinkie's been helping me with investing. Crazy what that mare can do."

"Spike, this isn't a joke!" Her eyebrows would narrow even more. "I want you to tell me right now where you got that money and how, it could be very dangerous!"

"Uh," he'd say, backing a step or two away. "You sure?"

Twilight would simply nod, a look of concern and determination on her face. "Yes. I am beyond sure."

Spike extracted himself from his daydream.

Maybe he wouldn't tell Twilight about it after all. Anything to keep her from knowing about where the money came from and asking why she didn't know about it. Spike knew he was brave and glorious and all, but that quickly faded when faced with...brrr...angry Twilight.

He'd just have to give the diamond secretly to Rarity...who'd then tell all her friends about who'd been nice enough to...get...a diamond for her...

And then it finally hit Spike.

It was an inescapable situation.

It was one of those stupid logic problems with the train, the two tracks, and the switch. Either way, somepony'd get run over.

No matter what he did, he'd have to come clean with Twilight. If he didn't tell her himself, her friends would. And he couldn't let that happen.

No, he'd...have to tell her.

Sullenly, Spike noticed he was already at the castle doors. "Well," he mumbled to himself, "No use waiting. Let's get this over with."

Opening the door, he yelled, "Twilight? Hey, Twilight! I need to talk to you about something!"

No response. He shrugged, "Probably still too busy trying to figure out that weird bottle Ember sent her."

He hesitated. Surely telling Twilight could wait...couldn't it?

Waging a mental battle with himself, he finally decided to put the diamond safely in his room and then find Twilight and tell her. Walking down the hallways, he put a claw on the wall to steady himself from the shaking of the floor.

He went over his plan for telling Twilight. He'd tell her about what he'd bought for Rarity, of course, and that would lead to the subject of money, and that would lead to the subject of how he'd been running an investments account with Pinkie and that would lead to how he'd been hiding all of this from Twilight. Not his favorite turn in the conversation, but he couldn't let himself procrastinate with it. He'd already done enough to hurt Twilight's trust, he at least could do the favor of telling her himself.

His mind made up, he turned around to walk out the door, wobbled a bit, and stopped short.

When did the castle start shaking?

"Hah, that was easy!" said Anthony as he carried the first pudding back to the Big Red Time Machine. "Since we, the present us, know where the past us has been, the present us could just tell where the past us were at any given time and adjust our movements accordingly!"

Murray frowned absently at him, carrying the other pudding. "I bet you could have made that twice as confusing given time."

Anthony shrugged.

"Got them?" Sam called, only to smile when he saw the two massive icing-laden christmas puddings being carried in. "Excellent! ...Where's Greg and Jeff?"

Anthony winked. "They're surreptitiously checking on the Captain to make sure things are alright."

"Ah. Good thinking."

They set the puddings down and sat down themselves. Murray started humming some tune, heaven knows what it was. Anthony started eyeing the puddings.

Suddenly, Greg and Jeff burst into the Big Red Time Machine. Everyone immediately knew something was up, as Jeff had never looked so awake. "Hey," Jeff panted. "You won't believe this, but the Captain died again!

Silence fell, broken only by Sam's despairing, "Really?"

Greg shook his head. "I'm afraid so. Virtually the same scene played out now as did the first time. The Captain seemed to still have eaten too much, although the past me said the Captain had only eaten three this time."

Jeff nodded. "So we know the puddings weren't replaced, but the Captain still ate too much!"

Sam started pacing, muttering to himself. Anthony took this as a message that they'd be waiting again, rolled his eyes, and made for the pudding, reaching out for a spoon.

Sam's eyes went wide and he subsequently went ballistic.

"DON'T TOUCH IT!" he yelled, knocking Anthony to the floor and throwing the spoon as far away as he could. Before any of the shocked Wiggles could get any explanation, he started taking small pieces of the pudding and placing them into various compartments in the dashboard. All the lights that started flashing were red...except for one.

"Oh no," Sam whimpered. "Oh no, oh no..."

"What?" all four other occupants asked simultaneously.

"The Pudding's been poisoned."

A shocked silence sort of slammed onto them like a fifty-pound weight.

"What...?" Murray asked. "With what?"

Sam looked mortified. "That's just it. The most inhumane poison known to man. Methylfruitcake."

Two of the Wiggles raised their eyebrows. The other two narrowed their eyes in confusion.

"What now?" asked Anthony.

Sam stared seriously at Anthony. "You know why nobody actually eats fruitcake, right?"

"Um, yeah..it's terrible."

"It's terrible 'cause it's a survival instinct," Sam said. "Your body is warning you of the presence of the extremely addictive poisonous methylfruitcake that manifests inside every slice of fruitcake. In small amounts, like small bites of fruitcake, it's relatively harmless albeit deeply untasteful, but in concentrated amounts such as in this Pudding?" He paused and stared blankly at the screen, his head in his hands. "Unquestionably fatal."

The boys thought for a while, before Jeff volunteered, "That would explain why he'd keep eating so much regardless of how he felt. If it was really addictive, he'd have no choice before long."

"What a sad end," muttered Murray.

"Also, sorry to change the subject," said Greg, "But why do you say 'pudding' like the P is capitalized?"

"What?" Sam blinked. "Do I? Hmmm. Pudding. No wait, that's the start of a sentence. The methylfruitcake is in the Pudding. You're right. Huh. Well thanks for lampshading that, I guess."

"Now that that's cleared up," said Greg, "The only explanation I or I bet any of you can think of to why methylfruitcake is in the Puddin--sorry, pudding, is that someone...must have wanted the Captain...dead."

Silence fell and no one contradicted him.

"But then," said Murray, "Who killed Captain Feathersword?"

"Calm down now, sugarcube. You sure Twilight ain't in the castle?"

Spike stubbornly refused to calm down. "I've looked everywhere twice! The castle's been shaking for at least since I got back about an hour ago, and the new rumbling noise is just making things worse!" He grabbed Applejack's shoulders and shook her violently. "What if she's in real trouble!"

Applejack removed herself from Spike's grasp and patted him on the head. "Let's be reasonable now, Spike. She might be in a bucketload a' trouble, but we don't know for sure, and worryin' ain't gonna change anything."

Rarity trotted over, a disappointed frown on her face. "We've searched the whole castle from spire to base, and all we found were twenty-five different broom closets!"

Spike looked at her with an unreadable expression. "There are only twenty-four, Rarity."

"What?" Rarity looked confused. "What about that one room that was messier than..." Her eyes went wide. "Ah, aha. Um. N-Nevermind," she said, stepping back and clearing her throat.

Spike rolled his eyes. "I know, I haven't cleaned in a while. But this isn't the best time to be talking about my cleaning habits!" He turned to Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, who were just behind Rarity. "Did you find anything?"

Fluttershy shook her head, and Rainbow Dash's "Nuh-uh," did nothing to alleviate the dragon, who frantically started pacing. "But we have to find her! I don't know what's goi--"

An enormous cracking noise and a large tremor that knocked Spike, Fluttershy, and Rarity off their respective feet and hooves interrupted them. Dust fell from the ceiling, causing Rarity to cough.

Although--the castle didn't shake any more.

Pinkie Pie poked her head around the doorframe. "Wow! Didja feel that? That was like one of DJ Pon-3's songs where it's all 'danna danna danna danna eeooooooooooBWAAAP!' Can we do that again? Please?"

"Pinkie, now's not the time!" yelled Applejack, who started running down the hallway. "Something mighty strange is up."

Pinkie put a hoof to her chin as she bounced along next to Applejack. "Like that weird huge glowy thing that popped up in the middle of the entrance hall? Happened just when the bass drop did, too."

Applejack stopped short, making Rarity and Fluttershy run into her. "What now, Pinkie?"

"You mean to tell me, darling," said Rarity, rubbing her nose where it had collided with Applejack, "That the enormous cracking noise and simultaneous tremor were also accompanied by the appearance of a large foreign object in the center of Twilight's foyer?"

Pinkie blinked for a second, her expression gradually becoming more and more serious. "Oh, when you put it like that..."

"Come on you guys!" said Rainbow impatiently. "Let's go see what it is! It might be some ancient curse or something!"

They continued running. Rainbow was the first to get there, and her startled gasp made the other five redouble their efforts.

Spike, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Rainbow now stood around a massive metallic square set shallowly into the ground. Small wires reached into the floor around it, seemingly anchoring it in place, like a terrifyingly artificial plant. When Spike stepped on it, he could feel it vibrating softly, a sensation that seemed to hit him right under the jaw.

"What is it?" asked Rainbow in wonder. "It's amazing!"

Fluttershy stared at it in horror. "That...just doesn't look...right..."

Pinkie started looking at it from all angles. "Whoa, it's covered in little square scribblies!"

Rarity and Applejack, however, shot Spike glances. He wasn't taking it too well.

"Oh no...Oh no, oh no, oh no!" he said in an increasingly frantic tone. Pulling out a scroll, he hastily scratched a message and sent it with a plume of fire, only to resume his pacing.

"Spikey dear, sorry to...interrupt, but, are you alright?" Rarity came up by him and put a hoof on his shoulder.

"Ask me that in a few minutes," he gasped, desperately trying to avoid hyperventilating.

Applejack walked over as well. "And besides, what's got you so worked up, young'n?"

"Because..." he started. "Twilight's in there, I know it!"

"In there, darling?" asked Rarity, whose only answer was an extended claw pointing to the center of the metal square.

There, exactly in the center, was what most of them tried not to look at. Glowing runes pulsed in a slow, almost eerily blood-like fashion, outlining what could only be a trapdoor.

They all fell silent.

"Excuse me?" came a light, cheerful voice, although tinged with gravity. "I hope that this is truly an emergency, Spike, and not like the time Twilight tried that little book Ponzi scheme of her..."

Celestia trailed off as she noticed the object sunk into the floor, with bits of displaced floor and holiday decorations scattered around it. Finally, she turned her eyes to the six occupants of the foyer.

"I see." Celestia's tone had gone full serious. "And you don't know what it is?"

"No, your highness," said Spike. "None of us have a clue!"

Celestia gracefully closed her eyes and took a breath in through her nose. "Ah. I was hoping you might enlighten me."

The others stared. "No offense, Princess," said Rainbow Dash, "but how do you not know what it is? You know everything!"

The Princess smiled. "It may seem that way at times, but no. I know merely most everything, young Rainbow."

She then returned to her determined look, closing her eyes again. "What I do know is that it absolutely reeks of magic...Luna! I need your help!"

A flash and a "Yes, sister?" later, Luna appeared next to her. "What seems to be the..." She noticed the square. "...ah. I both understand and are more confused than ever, Celestia."

"You and me both." Celestia turned to the others. "Where is Twilight?"

Spike pointed to the glowing runes. "I think she's...inside, Princess."

Celestia blinked. Luna followed suit.

"Well then," Luna spoke up. "We must follow her down and find the source of this...whatsoever it might be."

"Will you assist us?" Celestia asked.

The others very quickly nodded assent, except for Fluttershy, whose inaction was quickly reversed when Applejack glared at her.

The Princesses nodded. "Very well," Celestia said. "We'll all go down in search of Twilight."

They stepped onto the creepily glowing rune door, and with a moment of concentration from Celestia and a mechanical 'click,' the smaller platform began to move inexorably downward.

"One should only hope no fiend of the deep awaits us below," Luna muttered, inadvertently terrifying the smaller ponies and dragon around her.

As the metal walls studded with softly glowing red lights moved upwards around them, Pinkie jumped in excitement. "Oooh! Oooh! I love this! Do I get a fancy glowy sword too?"

Author's Note

gasp

Actually what the heck is even going on anymore, cause I can't tell