Monty Hoofton's Galloping Circus

Chapters

Rarity hates Spam
An Unexpected Entrance
A Feast of Fermented Curd
Of Dead Parrots and Slugs

Rarity hates Spam

(The camera is looking at the edge of a small forest in the middle of the countryside. Nothing happens until an elderly looking stallion with tattered clothing and a long white beard stumbles out of the tree line. The pony continues to trot towards the camera until he stops. He raises his front legs into the air, stands up on his hind legs and says: "IT'S….")

Monty Hoofton's Galloping Circus!

Sketch: Rarity hates Spam.

Saturdays in Ponyville were always so very quiet and peaceful. Most ponies were either at their home relaxing their muscles after a hectic week or enjoying themselves at the many fine eateries the small town had to offer. In fact, after this story, why not go down to Sugarcube Corner for some of their delectable pastries or to Sweet Apple Acres for their juicy, freshly picked ap……CRASH!!

We do hereby apologize for the small interruption in the story. The author responsible has been sacked and banished to the moon. The story will now continue as planned.

Mind you, those apples are really delicio...*SHOT*

We apologize again for the continuing interruptions. The ponies responsible for sacking the author, who has now been shot through the head, have now been sacked and banished to the moon. The story shall now be completed at the last minute and at great expense with a new author.

Our story begins with two figures walking up the street to a small, secluded building near the edge of town. It was a plain structure, almost indistinguishable to the other buildings in Ponyville. The only thing that set it apart from the others was a small wooden sign at the front with the name "Yellow Colt Café" engraved on it. Rumor had it that this particular café had just appeared out of nowhere just a few days ago. As such, no ponies were seen going inside the mysterious place, except for the two that were only recently introduced into this story. These two were a special couple of ponies; well, one at least. He...She, sir...I mean, SHE was a unicorn fashion expert with a brilliant white coat with and equally majestic purple mane…I really like her mane… SHUT IT!!

Oh, blast it all, where was I? You were about to introduce the readers to the other one. Ah yes, thank you: The other one was not a pony at all. In fact, he was a dragon, a small one at that. His scales were of a deep purple colour that was not quite dissimilar to the gorgeous unicorn's mane. The dragon's back was adorned with bright green spikes that reached down all the way to his pointed tail.

"Spike, I really must thank you for inviting me to this new place in town" said the unicorn mare while nuzzling the dragon's, who apparently is called Spike, cheek. The small reptile…I thought he was a dragon…Well a dragon IS a reptile, now can you please let me tell the bloody story? Anyway, the small reptile felt a blush creep into his cute purple face.

"Aw gee Rarity, it's nothing. I just wanted to make up for the whole 'turning into a greedy adult dragon, ponynapping you, destroying half of Ponyville and almost getting us both killed in the process' incident," said Spike, rubbing the back of his spiky head with one of his claws. Rarity giggled at the memory of said "incident" and nuzzled his cheek once more…D'aaawww…Do you want me to shoot you through the face like the last author? No, then SHUT UP!!

"My dear Spikey-Wikey, why do you still fret over that? It wasn't your entire fault; you were just merely experiencing maturity. Everypo…Err, dragon goes through that," she explained, "besides, I have already forgiven you for that."

The miniscule reptile…dragon…dragon stroked the mare's cheek with his claw, relishing the softness of her coat. "I know, but I still feel bad about the whole thing. Besides, Twilight gave me the day off, so what better way to spend the day than going out to eat with a lovely mare like you" Spike said, standing on his tippy claws to plant a warm kiss on Rarity's cheek.

She giggled and felt a warm blush creep into her face, "Oh Spike, I never knew you were such a gentledragon. Come, I'm getting rather famished." They finally reached their destination and after entering the café, both were greeted with a most unusual sight. Inside, there were these strange creatures that neither Rarity nor Spike have ever seen. They stood on their hind legs and were lacking a tail. Their faces were covered in dirt and grime which made Rarity gasp in terror. They were clad in heavy cloaks and upon their heads were strange horned helmets. On top of that, they reeked awfully. In fact, they smelled like my grandmother's cooking. Well, maybe it wasn't that bad, but I find that it was more or less similar and…

"GET ON WITH IT!"

Ah yes, forgive me Princess Luna. Anyway, both Spike and Rarity were utterly astounded by the creatures that stood before them.

"What are those things?" asked the posh unicorn, covering her nose with her hoof in an effort to block the reek that was emanating from the tall monsters.

"I think I saw something about them in one of Twilight's books. 'Hyoo-mans', I think they were called" explained Spike. He soon began pointing at an empty table near the door, "Look, let's sit there."

They took their seat when suddenly, a shrill, grating, awful noise filled the air, "MORNIN'." The sound came from the mare at the register, an elderly earth pony wearing a dirty apron. Spike managed to recover from the shock of the horrible call and turned to the register pony.

"Morning, whatcha got?" asked Spike, secretly hoping that they served gems (he did love gems so very much).

The old mare snorted and turned to the menu on the wall next to her, "Well, there's hay and daisies. Uh, hay, roses, and daisies. Hay and Spam. Hay, daisies, and Spam. Uh, hay, daisies, roses, and spam. Spam, daisies, roses, and Spam. Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, baked beans, Spam, Spam, Spam, and Spam. Or, a nice garden salad with Celestia dressing, apple cuts, and Spam," she called out in her nails on a chalkboard voice.

Rarity turned towards the loud owner, "Oh dear, have you anything that doesn't have any Spam?" she asked. The register mare let out another snort, "Well there's Spam, hay, roses, and Spam. That's not got much Spam in it." she stated.

Spike saw Rarity put on a look of annoyance, "But I don't want any Spam. I find it absolutely revolting," she complained.

"Maybe we should find another place to eat, Rarity," said Spike in an effort to diffuse this tense situation. As he was about to get up from his chair, he saw her hoof being raised. "No Spike, it's all right. You went through all the effort to bring me here and it would just be terrible of me to not accept it."

She turned to the pony at the register, "Now can I have hay, daisies, Spam and roses without the Spam." The pony shot her a look of disgust and let out a screechy "EUGH!"

Rarity looked flabbergasted, "What do you mean 'EUGH'? I don't like Spam!"

Suddenly, the entire room was filled with the bombastic voices of the "hyoo-mans" singing "Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spammity, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam. Spammity-Spam, Wonderful Spam." They were soon silenced by the angry yells of the register mare and the banging of a wooden spoon on the coffee maker.

"Bloody Northmen. Anyways, you can't have hay, daisies, Spam, and roses without the Spam?" she explained in her awful, evil, terrible…We get it, her voice is annoying…Uh, right.

Rarity looked both confused and angry, "And why not?" The earth pony gave out a third snort and said, "Well it wouldn't be hay, daisies, Spam, and roses, would it?"

Rarity could not hold back her frustration any longer. "I DON'T LIKE SPAM!!" she screamed in utter rage. "Come on Spikey-Wikey, I don't want to be associated with this vile place any longer."

"Aww, but I wanted to try some of that Spam," muttered Spike. Soon the "hyoo-mans" began singing their Spam song but by the time they reached their smashing climax, Spike and Rarity were already out of the café and making their way to their respective homes.

Rarity looked over to Spike, "Spike my dear, I do apologize for the way I acted in there. I have zero tolerance for ponies with no class."

"Aw, don't worry 'bout it. You look rather cute when you get angry," Spike complimented. Rarity giggled and gave Spike a quick peck on his lips. Spike heart nearly burst from his chest.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Spikey-Wikey. Good night," Rarity said before trotting off to her boutique/home/amusement park ride. Spike merely stood there completely still.

"Yep, life is good," he said and he began walking to Twilight's library/home/arboreal object.

(As Spike walks home, the camera pans away towards the right. Soon, the shot focuses on an inconspicuous desk with a bunch of papers on top of it. Sitting behind the desk is a strange Pegasus with a yellow mane, grey coat, and crossed eyes)

"And now for something completely different," the mare says.

THE END.

An Unexpected Entrance

(The camera focuses on a quiet countryside. For a few minutes, nothing out of the ordinary occurs. Suddenly, a rainbow colored blur shoots across the sky and approaches the camera at breakneck speeds. The figure manages to stop before hitting the camerapony and we see that the figure is a cyan colored Pegasus with a rainbow mane.)

“And now for something completely AWESOME!” the pony exclaims.

“IT’S….”

Monty Hoofton’s Galloping Circus

Sketch: An Unexpected Entrance

Now, before I begin this tale, I am pleased to inform you, my dear readers, that I have personally dealt with our little “interruption” problem. You may be asking yourselves, “What happened to him/her?” Well, let’s just hope that our little friend knows how to swim, *evil laugh*.

Anyway, as the ponies in Manehattan would say, “let’s get this show on the road.”

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In the center of Ponyville, there rests a peculiar tree. Now, to the untrained eye, the tree looks like any other tree that you can find in Equestria. However, if you looked closely, the tree was, in fact, a building as well. You see, this was no ordinary tree. In fact, this “tree” was actually a library of all things. You might be wondering, “What sort of pony builds a library inside a tree?” Quite frankly, I am as confused as you are. Even more amusing than that, this “tree” also served as a home of some sort. No, not to cute, little furry animals, but to a pony and, get this, a bloody dragon (granted, he was only a baby dragon). The pony’s name was Twilight Sparkle, the most studious unicorn in all of Ponyville and Princess Celestia’s number one pupil.

Let me talk to you about Twilight: she was, for lack of a better word, “a social outcast.” Sure, she did have six great friends whom she had formed a strong bond with. But, let’s just say that her romantic life was, well, non-existent. In fact….

“Excuse me”

Oh, Princess Celestia, to what do I owe this extreme pleasure?

“Well, it’s just that you seem to be getting off track. I do not think the readers care about my star pupil’s love life. If you would be so kind as to continue with the story at hoof, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Of course, my liege, forgive me. Isn’t she just grand, fillies and gentlecolts? Anyways, where was I?

Ah yes, Twilight indeed loved books. Every night, she would sit at her desk and read one of the many tomes that the previous owner of the library had stocked in the many shelves. She had already read many of these books during her studies in Canterlot, but she never got bored of them. In fact, she always seemed to notice something she didn’t catch during her previous readings. Tonight, she was reading her copy of “Modern Spellcasting,” which she considered to be an absolute classic. She enjoyed reading about the new spells that started coming out during the Reignissance after the Equestrian Church began to lift their tight restrictions on magic. Twilight loved to practice every spell that was written on the book, including some of the more, uh, potentially destructive ones. She was so engrossed in her reading, that she almost jumped through the roof when she heard the front door open and slam shut with a *BAM!* Twilight looked towards the door and saw her number one assistant, Spike, running towards her with a shocked look on his face.

“Spike, what’s the matter? Why do you look so worried?” asked Twilight, hoping that Spike was all right. You see, Twilight considered little Spike to be a sort of younger brother to her, seeing as she hatched him when she but a little filly.

Spike caught a few deep breaths, “Something bad’s happened in Sweet Apple Acres!” he exclaimed.

Twilight’s eyes shot open at an instant, “What happened?! Is everything all right?” she asked frantically.

“One of the apple trees fell on top of the barn,” was what Spike wanted to say, but seeing as he was so short of breath, all that came out was, “tree…fall…on…barn!”

Twilight merely looked at Spike with a confused face, “I beg your pardon? Can you speak more clearly?” she requested.

Spike took a few deep breaths, finally calming down. “One of the apple trees fell on top of the barn” he explained.

The purple unicorn mare looked shocked and she assaulted Spike with more questions. “How!? Did anypony get hurt? How bad was the damage?” she asked the dragon, shaking him with her hooves.

Spike gave a small shrug, “I don’t know,” he answered, sitting down in order to give his feet a break after all that running.

The librarian frowned, “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’? You must know something!” she exclaimed, once again shaking the dragon until he was dizzy.

“I just don’t know. Applejack just told me to come to you and tell you that there was trouble at the farm. Jeez, I wasn’t expecting the Equestrian Inquisition.” Suddenly, the front door slammed open again and in came a blinding blur of pink and red. It was a mare with an unbearable bright pink coat and mane. She was clad in a cloak and hat that were a garish shade of crimson red. Behind her were two other mares, a Pegasus with a rainbow mane and a unicorn with a clear white coat.

“NOPONY EXPECTS THE EQUESTRIAN INQUISITION!” she shouted with a high pitched voice, “our chief weapon is surprise. Surprise and fear, fear and surprise. Our TWO weapons, are fear and surprise and ruthless efficiency, THREE weapons. Our THREE weapons, are fear and surprise and ruthless efficiency and an almost fanatical devotion to the Colt, our FOUR..!”

“Pinkie, what in the name of Faustia and the Princesses are you doing?” asked Twilight, looking at her best friend with look of utter confusion.

Pinkie merely scoffed and pointed her nose to the air, “Who is this ‘Pinkie’ of which you speak? I am Cardinal Pie, high Inquisitor of The Equestrian Church and slayer of heathens! I, along with my fellow cardinals, Cardinal Dash and Cardinal White, hunt down those who disobey the teachings of Faustia and torture them with fluffy pillows!”

Twilight looked at the two ponies behind “Cardinal Pikie”, “You girls are also in this?” she asked.

Rarity was the first to speak, “We tried to talk her out of it, darling, but she was rather adamant about it,” she explained sadly.

Rainbow Dash stepped forward after Rarity, “She also tried to get us to wear these totally not awesome clothes. At first, we said now way to that, but she used those puppy dog eyes on us and well…”

“SILENCE!” bellowed Pinkie Pie in anger, “unless you want to spend time on the comfy chair. Now then, Cardinal White, read the charges.”

Rarity stepped forward and produced a scroll from the pockets of her cloak. She cleared her throat and in a bored voice she mumbled, “You are hereby charged that you did, on diverse dates, commit heresy against the Equestrian Church.”

The crazy pink pony stared at Twilight’s eyes, “Now then, vile heretic, how do you plead?” she asked with scorn dripping from her voice.

“Pinkie, this is absolutely ridiculous. Please, stop this insane game,” Twilight pleaded, but to no avail.

“YOU FOAL! You dare speak to me that way?” shouted Cardinal Pie with absolute conviction, “for that, you shall now suffer the terror of the soft cushions! Cardinal Dash, bring out the cushions!”

Rainbow Dash produced a pair of soft pillows (which were so very soft, by the way) and put both her front hooves inside of them. “Sorry ‘bout this Twilight,” she apologized and she began to poke her with the cushions.

Twilight merely let out a long sigh, “Oh Pinkie, you’re so random sometimes.”

[b(The camera suddenly cut to a pony with a cobalt blue mane and white coat. On her face is a pair of goggles which completely covers her red eyes. She is standing behind a turntable deck.)

“And now for something completely funky,” she says.

THE END

A Feast of Fermented Curd

(The scene opens on a large regal ball. Dozens upon dozens of rich, snobby aristoponies fill the large main floor of whosever bloody mansion they are at. Slowly, the camera pans to the right, focusing on a single unicorn stallion that is conversing with others of his ilk. He has a white coat and dons a fancy suit, handkerchief and all. His blue mane is neatly combed and upon his left eye rests a golden monocle. He turns towards the camera, smiles, polishes his monocle with his handkerchief and says)

“And now for something completely fancy”

“ITS….!”

Monty Hoofton’s Galloping Circus

Sketch: A Feast of Fermented Curd

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Our little story starts in a magical place that is full to the brim with such wonders that one would believe that he or she has stepped into a real of pure excellence: the public library!…Boring!... Now see here young whippersnapper; I’ll have you know that a library is not boring at the slightest. Why, you could have so much fun browsing their wide selection of tomes and novels, including the latest Daring Doo novel; a fine piece of work, if I might add. In fact, I used to work in a library before I got this dead end job, and may I say that those days were the absolute best in my entire….CRASH!!

We once again apologize for interrupting the story, but it appears that the previous author that had been sent to the moon had somehow returned. As such, said author has been banished to the moon and placed in a dungeon where he was banished to.

Now where did we leave off? Ah right! In this library, there were a number of ponies browsing through the building’s enormous collection of books; but, there was one pony there that was quite special than the rest. You may recognize this pony from the second chapter of this particular tale. Yes, that’s right; it was none other than Canterlot’s premiere cellist, Octavia Allegrezza. The black maned Veneightian mare was currently focused on the large, hardbound tome on the life of one of Equestria’s most famous composers, Ludwig von Beethoofen. She had read this book many times before, but every time she visited this place, she would always start with this particular book. It wasn’t as if there was anything different every time she opened it; it wasn’t really a magical book. But, she didn’t care one single bit; she always enjoyed reading on the Kingdom’s most prolific character since King Solaris the Magnificent. When the final page of the book was closed, she leaned back in her seat, at peace with her mind and body… that is until she felt a strange rumbling in her stomach.

“Goddess, I am famished.”

The earth pony contemplated on where she should go to partake in a bit of snacking. Prench food? No, she would do that for her night with Frederic tomorrow. Eastern food? Anything made by those cranes always went right through her. She was at a total loss at what to do, the hunger slowly rising until the desire to feast was the only thing going through her mind. That is, until she spotted it.

She looked out the window to her left and she saw the answer to all her problems. It was a simple establishment; small with nary a single decoration. But that was not what she cared about; she was only focused on the sign hanging above the door.

Grand Opening! Dairy Milk’s Cheese Emporium

“THAT’S IT!!” she cried before being “shushed” by every pony in the room; “Sorry.”

So it was finally settled; the gray mare would bring an end to this plague of famishment with the gift of cheese. Octavia immediately made her way out of the library; stopping only to leave the book at the main desk so they can do whatever they wished with it. As she exited the building, she was confronted with a vast moving wall of ponies out on their daily runs… Wait, if there were many ponies out, then how did she see the cheese shop?... Easy, the street was empty that time…But…Moving on!

At first, she was considering abandoning her quest all together after being presented with this seemingly insurmountable obstacle. However, the rumbling in her inner regions seemed to balk at the thought; Oh no you don’t, it seemed to say, you are going to feed me cheese and you are going to do it now!

Seeing no other choice, Octavia began to push her way through the crowd, voicing out apologies to the ponies she shoved. She pushed and shoved for what seemed like hours, struggling to keep the stench of sweaty, dirty ponies out of her nostrils. Finally, she had escaped the vice grip of the crowd and she stood before her goal. Had she not been educated in the finer points of etiquette, she would have been jumping for joy like a filly that had been given a toy as a gift. The mare noticed a distinct sign hanging on the door; Licensed for public instrument playing, it said. Octavia found this rather interesting, but her stomach did not allow her to think much of it. Without a moment’s hesitation, she opened the door and stepped inside.

As she entered, her ears perked up at the sweet sound of music coming from her right. When she turned to find the source, her eyes fell upon a turquoise unicorn mare sitting on a simple three legged bench with her hind legs dangling over the edge. In her hooves, she held a golden lyre, Preek design by the looks of it. She was plucking the strings, producing the most glorious melodies that the cellist has ever heard. She had half a mind to ask for this pony’s name, but, once again, her insides would have none of it.

When Octavia looked over to the counter, she noticed that there was no pony standing on the other side. As she trotted up to the wooden countertop, she noticed a small bell on top of it.

This must be to summon the proprietor, she guessed.

She took the bell in her mouth and gave it a few shakes, creating a sort of tinny sound. No answer. Octavia shook it again, this time a bit harder. Still no answer. All the while, the unicorn was still playing her lyre in the corner. Octavia, a bit annoyed at being denied service, shook the bell again, this time as vigorously as she could.

“Yeah, yeah,” a voice called out, “I’m comin’” Suddenly, the door behind the counter opened, revealing a single seemingly ordinary mare. However, once Octavia saw those magenta eyes, white coat, and cobalt mane, she immediately regretted her decision to come here.

“YOU!?” she cried out.

Vinyl Scratch merely smirked at the grey mare’s shocked reaction. “Well, well,” she began, “if it ain’t Miss Prissy herself.”
Octavia’s face changed from that of confusion to one of anger. “My name is Octavia, Ms. Scratch,” she reminded, “May I ask what in Veneighce’s name are you doing here?”

The DJ merely rolled her eyes at the question. “I work here,” she retorted, “what does it look like?”

“Yes, I can see that. But why would a mare of your position be working in a cheese shop?”

Vinyl Scratch sighed; “Long story short: there weren’t many gigs for me after the big wedding and my rent was due; so I decided to take this stupid job.”

As Vinyl answered Octavia’s question, the earth pony mare could not help but stare at the unicorns full, luscious lips. Those lips that she had longed for every single moment of her mortal life. Those lips that she wanted to kiss and lick when the two engaged in a night of love making. Those lips that…

“Excuse me.”

Uh, yes Octavia?

“What are you doing?”

Um, I’m narrating the story, miss; it’s my job.

“Is that so? Then what was all that about me and her lips?”

Well, I’m merely narrating your train of thought. It’s a common thing in storytelling.

“You seriously believe that I would be attracted to her?! That uncouth, dirty, raunchy, cretina?!”
“I’m standing right here, you know?”

But the readers love a romance story. They would all go crazy for a scene between you two.

“If you do not end this nonsense, I will walk out of this pezzo di merda!”

Fine, fine; if you insist.

“Good,” she said, satisfied with her victory, “now then Miss Scratch, while I would never purchase anything from an establishment that hires ponies such as you, I find myself a bit esurient.”

The unicorn rolled her eyes while the lyre player continued plucking her strings. “Okay, can you repeat that in Common?” she said.

Octavia groaned at the lower pony’s ignorance. “I am hungry,” she reiterated.

“See, was that so hard?” Vinyl teased, “what are you hungry for?”

“Well, I was at the library when I suddenly developed a sudden craving for some cheesy comestibles,” Octavia explained.

“’Scuse me?” asked the white unicorn.

Another groan came from the cellist’s throat. “I would like to buy some cheese,” she said, through her teeth.

“Well, ya came to the right place!” exclaimed the DJ, “any type you’re interested in?”

Octavia took a moment to think about her question. What type of cheese should she ask for? There were so many flavors of [i[formaggio that it was so hard to come to a decision. “How about some Gryphonian Red Cheese?”

“Ran out of it yesterday” answered the mare behind the counter.

That was one cheese scratched out of the list. “Very well,” she returned, not discouraged by this slight bump, “Northern Blue Cheese?”

“Goblins stole the newest shipment.”

Another cheese that she would not be able to enjoy. “Maredridian Goat Cheese?”

“No.”

Octavia was starting to get rather annoyed at the dwindling number of fermented curd choices. “Prench Fromage?”

“Not until Tuesday,” responded Vinyl with a shake of her head.

“Mozzarella?”

“No”

“Camelia Camel Cheese?”

“No- wait, that exists?”

The cellist though about it for a moment. “No, I guess it doesn’t. Any Cheddar?”

“Not really.”

Octavia looked at Vinyl Scratch in shock; “No Cheddar?” she exclaimed, “How can you not have Cheddar? Everypony eats Cheddar?”

The unicorn smirked; “Why is exactly why we don’t have any Cheddar.”

“Fine, do you have- WILL YOU STOP PLAYING THAT DAMNED LYRE!?” The turquoise unicorn obliged her request, looking a bit depressed at being yelled at… That wasn’t very nice… Yes well, after a while it does get rather annoying.

“Aw, was that really necessary?” asked Vinyl, “we are licensed for public instrument playing.”

“Never mind that,” Octavia shot back, “now then, do you have any cheese at all in this fine place of purveyance?”

Vinyl scoffed at the question; “Well duh! It is kind of a ‘cheese shop’.”

“Well if that’s the case, why isn’t there any cheese when I ask for it?” Octavia was once again nearing the end of her considerable patient. First the incident at the pet shop and now this. Everywhere she went, incompetence always seemed to follow close behind.

“Look Miss Prissy, I don’t run this place; I just work here part time. If you want to complain like the stuck up you are, then I suggest you do it out of my face,” said Vinyl, clearly not at all amused with her current situation.

Octavia’s eyes suddenly lit up as if a fire began raging inside of her head. “My name is OCTAVIA!” and with that, she threw herself over the countertop with murderous intent. She tackled Vinyl Scratch to the ground; hooves making contact with her face. The two became a tangled mess of limbs, each one trying to assert domination over the other. Bites on the ears were sprinkled in with the vast number of slaps and punches the two shared.

As they fought, the unicorn that had, up until a while ago, been peacefully playing her instrument got up off the bench and towards the counter. She looked over the top and watched as the two mares went at each other’s throat.

“Um, you may want to cut off at this point,” said the mare, turning her head towards the camera, “I fear that things are only going to get worst.”

I knew that I should have convinced them to do a romantic scene.

(The scene cuts to a view of a vast, scorched landscape of brown, brown, and more brown. What had once been Equestria has been reduced to a wasteland, nary a bit of green in sight. The only thing that is completely significant is the ordinary desk that is somehow much more intact then everything else. Suddenly, sound of explosions and gunfire are heard offscreen. A small unicorn mare with a gray coat and a short brown mane gallops into view, a revolver levitating beside her. She fires a few shots at an unseen foe before trotting up to the desk.)

“And now for something completely different,” the mare says before taking off again.

Of Dead Parrots and Slugs

(The audience is seeing a vast ocean from a sandy beach. In the distance, a lone figure is trying to get closer to the camera but it keeps falling into the water. As it nears, we notice that the strange figure is actually a turquoise unicorn mare with a white mane and lyre cutie mark. She is covered in tattered clothing and her mane is frazzled. She finally reaches the camera, stands on her hind legs and says: "IT'S….")

Monty Hoofton's Galloping Circus

Sketch: Of Dead Parrots and Slugs

When one went to the market district of Canterlot, one would find many fine establishments with tons of goods for the good ponies to spend their hard earned bits on. Everything from the modest fruits from the vast pastures of the countryside, to the most exotic of amulets and idols from the Zebra Savannah could be found in this sprawling district. As such, it was always filled to the brim with ponies from both the lower working class, to the elites. Merchants from all around Equestria and beyond came here to sell their wares and make a small profit. However, there are those who do not understand the value of honesty and constantly swindle the poor customers…Bloody monsters… Oh bloody hell, you again?! I thought you were afflicted with a horrible, potentially fatal disease that would have probably ended your life…Eh, I got better… *Sigh* Unfortunately. Can you at least not interrupt me like last time? I make no promises… Fine, anyways, back to the story.

In this entire hubbub, one single pony was making her way to a certain boutique near the center of the district. She was a small earth pony, with a grey coat and black mane. Emblazoned on her flanks was a cutie mark in the shape of a treble clef. Around her neck, she wore a simple pink bow-tie. Despite her normal ordinary…Isn't that redundant? Shut it! Anyways, despite her ordinary appearance, she was probably the most well know pony in Canterlot, probably in all of Equestria. She was Octavia, renowned cellist and overall, the classiest pony to have lived. In her mouth, she was carrying a small, ordinary bird cage. Inside was, what else, a bird, who was strangely lying down at the base. Octavia had a look of contained frustration on her face. She finally made it to her destination: "Furry Tail Pets and Pet Accessories," a strange name if I do say so myself…But you came up with the name…Shhh, the readers don't know that.

"Hello, I wish to make a complaint," Octavia called out as she entered the store. She walked up to the counter and spotted a brown maned mare looking for something on the floor. "Hello, miss," she greeted the counter pony.

The mare, oops, I mean stallion, poked his head from up the counter and looked at Octavia. "Whatcha mean 'miss'?" he asked.

Octavia looked rather embarrassed and quickly looked for a way to resolve the situation. "I'm terribly sorry. I have come down with a cold. Anyways, I wish to make a complaint," answered Octy...Octy?... Not a single word.

"Sorry, we're closing down for brunch," said the stallion and he was about to go to the back room before he was interrupted by Octavia clearing her throat.

"Never mind that, my dear colt. I wish to complain about this parrot I bough not half an hour ago from this very establishment," she said as she lifted the cage up on the counter.

The store pony inspected both the cage and the parrot inside of it, "Ah yes, the lovely Tropical Parrot. What's wrong with it?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong with it: it's dead, that's what's wrong with it," answered Octavia in a neutral voice.

"No, no, it's just restin'," said the counter stallion, whom we shall call "Bob"…Why Bob?...Who's telling the story? Now, be quiet.

Octavia scrunched her face into a frown, "Resting, you say? Listen, I think I would know a dead parrot when I saw one."

Bob shook his head, "No, it's just restin'. Remarkable bird, the Tropical Parrot, lovely plumage."

Octavia's frown deepened and her eyes pierced into the insolent counter stallion, "The plumage doesn't matter. It's stone dead."

He shook his head once again, "No, he really is just resting," he continued to assure. Octavia was starting to get really annoyed.

"Alright then, if its resting then I'll wake it up," said Octavia as she opened the cage door and stuck her muzzle into the opening, "HELLO, POLLY! I'VE GOT A NICE CUTTLEFISH FOR YOU WHEN YOU WAKE UP, POLLY PARROT!"

Bob inconspicuously pushed the cage a bit with his hoof, "There, it moved."

"No, it didn't. That was you pushing the bloody cage!" exclaimed the musical pony.
The colt looked shocked, as if she was out of line for accusing him of such a thing. "I did not!" he retorted.

"Yes, you did" replied Octavia as she once again stuck her muzzle back into the cage. "HELLO POLLY!POOOOOOLLLLYYYY! POLLY PARROT, WAKE UP!" As she called out to the deceased parrot, she took the cage between her hooves and banged it against the counter in a vain attempt to wake it up. The parrot didn't wake up. "Now that's what I call a dead parrot" she told the pony in front of her.

But the colt was still being difficult, "No, it's stunned. It was pining for the jungle."

"Pining for the jungle? What kind of talk is that?" asked Octavia with a confused look on her face. She was starting to lose her temper, "Look the parrot fell flat on its back the moment I brought it to my loft."

"Well, the Tropical Parrot prefers keeping on its back" Bob assured Octavia, still not letting up with his constant lying.

Octavia let out a frustrated sigh, "Look, I took the liberty of examining the bird and I found out that the reason why it stood on its perch was because it had been nailed there."

"Well of course it was nailed there. Otherwise, it would muscle up to those bars and 'fwoomp'" said the store pony.

The cellist gritted her teeth and she took out the parrot from its resting place, "Look, my dear pony. This parrot wouldn't 'fwoomp' if I put four thousand volts through it. It's bleeding deceased."

Bob shook his head yet again, "No, its, its pining"

At that moment, Octavia lost all of her self control, "It is not pining, it is passed on. This parrot is no more, it has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late parrot. Bereft of life, it rests in piece. Its rung down the curtains, joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot." At this point, all that Octavia could see was red.

Bob merely gave a shrug, "Guess I'd better go replace it then," he said before going to the back room to look for a replacement.

Octavia let out a long sigh and looked towards the camera. "If you want something done right, you've got to complain until you go blue in the mouth," she told the readers. After a moment, the stallion came back with empty hooves.

"Sorry love, we are all out of parrots," he apologized to her. It took all of her willpower not to buck him in the muzzle.

"I see, I see what's going on here" she muttered.

"I've got a slug," Bob offered to the poor musician. Octavia was not impressed.

"Does it talk?" she asked.

Bob shrugged and shook his head, "Not really, no."

She facehoofed, "Well that's hardly a replacement then. I say, this is getting rather silly."

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a large stallion in military garb burst into the room.

"Right, stop this. This is silly, very silly indeed" he said in a gruff, deep voice, "Right, get on with it. GET ON WITH IT!"

(The camera suddenly cuts to a bright pink pony with an equally pink and poofy mane.)

"And now for something super duper totally different!" the mare says before blowing on a party horn.

THE END