Spilling Ink: The Ever After Stories

There was a knock on the door. Dahlia went to answer it. It was a girl, about ten years her senior, with rich-red hair and a pink bow set on her head. She was wearing orange flannels under a denim set of overalls, and she gave Dahlia a bright, honest smile. “Howdy, Dahlia,” she said. “Mac’s still here, ain’t he?”

Dahlia giggled. “Course he is, Apple Bloom. You know he loves to take his time in the mornings.” She stepped aside, allowing her aunt inside.

“Y’sure we know the same Mac?” Bloom replied. “Ah seem to remember he liked to get up early an’ get everythin’ done before the afternoon hit.”

“Getting old changes a man,” Mac said from the dining room. He got out of his seat and walked over. He grunted as Apple Bloom charged into him, giving him a big hug, as though they were still kids. “ ‘S nice to see you, Bloom. Yer lookin’ good fer yer age.”

“Aw, shucks. Ain’t nothing to gettin’ old. ‘Sides, yer lookin’ still a bit lively.”

“Thank Dahlia for that. She keeps me goin’ with the vitamins and all.”

“Yeah, because you, Dad, don’t take them when you should.”

“The gummies are awful and y’knowit.”

“It doesn’t matter what I know, the doctor said you have to take them.”

“All right, all right,” Bloom said, still chipper. “You guys just about done cleaning up, or can we get goin’ while the sun still shines?”

They put their dishes in the sink, and Dahlia volunteered to clean them while Mac went to grab his cane. Bloom went with him. As they were gone, Dahlia found herself thinking about her aunt.

Arguably, other than herself and Mac, Apple Bloom had taken Ink’s death the hardest. That was, perhaps, not a source of surprise; Apples were known for their fierce devotion to family, and those who were welcomed into it could count on a loyal foundation for life, if not beyond life. Bloom had long considered Ink her second sister, and rumors suggested she had been cheering for Ink and Mac long before they had started their relationship. Yet this was not the source of the immense pain she had felt; the truth was, although it happened in a different month, the year that Ink died was also the year that Granny Smith passed away. The Apples had thus known both people for a majority of their lives, and in no uncertain terms were they grief-stricken, Bloom most of all.

She had taken a longer time to move past both deaths.

It was a bright and crisp October day when they went out. Apple Bloom’s car was parked outside. Dahlia’s was currently in the shop, and Mac had sold his beloved pickup truck a month before due to faulty controls and it finally getting old. They got in, and Bloom started the car. As she petered out of the driveway, Mac told her that they had been talking about Ink that morning.

“She did that?” Bloom said after he had repeated the same story he had told Dahlia to her. “Huh. You know, Ah knew she was feisty, but Ah didn’t think she was that feisty.”

“She had a streak, that’s fer sure; might be from hanging out with Gaige.”

“You think Gaige taught her that?” Dahlia said. “That’d probably put a smile on her face.”

“Among other things,” Apple Bloom intoned, turning onto the freeway. “Heh. Guess there’s always more to a person than you’d think.”

She was quiet for a bit. The engine’s soft rumbling filled the silence.

They came to a red light and stopped. Dahlia looked at Apple Bloom from the rearview mirror. She was frowning, chewing on her bottom lip, the way she always did when she was entertaining a particularly straining thought. On her dashboard was a little stuffed plushie—some sort of weird monster-ball shape, with a single eye on its face—that, Dahlia recalled, Ink had won at a carnival and had given to her many years ago. She still had it, and evidently took good care of it.

“Ah remember…” And Apple Bloom’s voice faltered. The pain was still there, Dahlia saw, and in seeing it, her own pain cropped up from the recesses of her heart. But she didn’t push it away; she let it be, and so the pain maintained itself a good distance in her.

Mac put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The light turned green, and Bloom started off again, turning left down the main highway. She was still frowning. But, through perhaps sheer will, she began speaking again. “Ah remember, this one time… well, Mac, do you remember? Cuz you probably do. The, uh, Spring Fling Dance?”

Mac’s face, for some reason, turned a shade redder than usual. “Oh, God, Bloom, that mess? Course I do.”

His reaction erased the frown on the younger Apple’s face, and she actually let out a decidedly youthful giggle. She glanced back at Dahlia. “Whatta ‘bout you, Dahlia? You ever hear about that dance?”

Dahlia shook her head. “The only dance Mom and Dad ever told me about was their wedding one.”

“The better one,” Mac muttered. He seemed like a boy, deeply bothered by some untold secret, and seeing this, Dahlia was filled with curiosity.

“Well!” Bloom laughed. “Ya see, Dahlia, there was this dance that CHS set up—”

“For gosh’s sake, Bloom, d’ya have to bring it up?”

Dahlia looked at Mac. He was covering his face with his hands. “Is it really that bad, Dad?”

“No,” he groaned, “but it’s pretty embarrassing.”

“For Mom or for you?”

“For both!”

Dahlia returned to looking at Bloom. She and her aunt shared a grin. “Well, then,” Dahlia said, “I think I’d definitely like to hear this.”

Mac groaned again, but otherwise did not protest. The grin on Bloom’s face became mischievous. “So, this dance, right? CHS was hosting it, but the thing is…”

***

The thing was, the whole process of preparing for the dance was a mess.

The blame could have been set on anybody, really. You could say it was the Student Party Planner Committee’s fault, since they were the ones mainly in charge of budgeting and scheduling the dance, but then it was also the Math League’s fault for not communicating that they needed a certain amount of days to set up and prepare for the annual competition, but then it was also the new student secretary’s fault since he had failed to communicate to either group the discrepancy until it was too late due to “missing” a few days of work, resulting in him being fired—if you unraveled the knot enough, all the clubs and organizations and most of the faculty members would become involved, almost universally in a negative way.

But once blame had been shifted around enough, heads could finally come together and actually start the planning process. Catering was ordered; music was planned, with the school’s local DJ, Vinyl Scratch, supplying the beats, as per usual; decorations were bought, brought in, and were ready to be set up; and Pinkie Pie managed to make contact with a few somewhat unscrupulous people in order to bring in what she called “a super-loco light show extravaganza,” whatever that meant (no one wanted to ask, fearing these Yakyakistanians and their fierce demeanors, though all wondered how she had managed to win over their self-proclaimed leader, Rutherford). So at first it seemed that despite the initial difficulties, the dance would be yet another popular success at Canterlot High.

That is, until Superintendent Discord decided to weigh in.

“A swing dancing competition?” Soul Writer clarified once that superintendent had finished his proposal. “Are you crazy, Mr. Superintendent?”

“Of course I am, boy,” Discord replied with a wicked grin. “It’s in my name, after all. Yes, a swing dancing competition, for all students and participating faculty members. The prize? Tickets for a Mediterranean cruise!”

“But… why?” asked Cheese Sandwich.

“Why not? I have these tickets to spare, and I certainly don’t want to go. It smells like fish and dead empires over there.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question!”

“I don’t really have to answer, do I?”

“Come on, Discord, silly!” Pinkie said, casually throwing in his first name as though they had known each other for their entire lives; he, to the relief of everyone else, appeared more amused than insulted. “We all know you wouldn’t be doing this just for the heck of it! You’ve got to have an ulterior motive of some sort!”

“The little pink lady knows me too well,” he said, chuckling. “Maybe I’m getting predictable with old age.”

“That reminds me,” Soul said, “how old are you exactly?”

“It’s impolite to ask a woman how old she is, Soul.”

“But you’re not a woman.”

“Don’t assume my gender!” Discord cleared his throat. “Anyway! As to Pinkie’s observation, the truth is I’m in dire need of pranking your lovely principal and her sister—it’s been far too long, you see, and I believe it’s necessary for a healthy heart and soul to be pranked at least thirty times a year.”

“Thirty?! That’s it?!” Pinkie exclaimed.

“I said at least, didn’t I?”

“Wait, wait,” Swift Justice said. “You want to prank Principal Celestia and Vice Principal Luna with… a swing dancing competition? How?”

“I’m glad you asked, my dear boy!” He took Swift by the ear and dragged him in close, ignoring his protests. “There’s a thing you should know about those sisters. Celestia loves swing music. But Luna? She hates it. Among all the things those two have clashed over, that, though minor, remains a huge stickler between them. They’ll argue, they’ll clash, and in the end, Celestia will end up trying to prove to Luna that swing dancing is the most fun anyone can have.” Using his fingers, he mimed one dancing, and the other, somehow, looking disapprovingly at the other. “Now, Celly will dance, and dance, and dance, but then—and here’s the kicker—she’ll be so caught up in what she’s doing, that she’ll fail to notice what’s on the floor—and what else would that be but a strategically placed banana peel?—until it’s too late and her sister has the imprint of a glass shoe laid over her features.”

All the students there gasped. “What?!” Soul cried. “Why would you even suggest that?”

“You ask as though you don’t already know the answer.”

“I don’t, though!”

Discord looked at him, then pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about “morally stuck-up kids.” “Look,” he said, glaring at Soul, “I’m not as young as I used to be. And that means that the kinds of thrills that are available are quickly waning. Sometimes, though? Sometimes you’ve gotta make your own fun, while you still can.”

Soul was still visibly perturbed, but Pinkie had been moved to tears by Discord’s short speech. And the other students were persuaded as well, on the simple truth that most of them were seniors, were graduating, and thus, had every inclination to prank their principal and vice principal.

Pinkie, still in tears, moved over to Discord, and placed a resolute hand on his shoulder. “Okay, D,” she said, clenching her other hand into a fist and staring off into the distance, “you’ll get your prank. Tell us what we need to do.”

Discord smiled. He rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. Now, here’s what I’m thinking…”

So it was that the Spring Fling had some of its additions adjusted, its features changed, without too much protest, as most were kept in the dark. The only real issue was convincing Vinyl Scratch to not play her typical wubs; she agreed to play swing music only when her request to play “at least electric swing every three songs” was granted. Those in charge of ordering food were instructed to also order a bowl of bananas, “with as much green as a blade of grass,” Cheese Sandwich had instructed oh-so-poetically. There were some confused murmurs, but these were quelled, and soon the Spring Fling preparations were finished. The event would commence, with or without a few intended hiccups.

All of these details were learned after the fact, but Apple Bloom had the fortune to at least know some of the specific changes. She knew this because Diamond Tiara, who had recently lost her bullying streak, was on the Party Planning Committee, and so had discussed what was being done with Bloom and her friends at lunch one day. There wasn’t much she could fully disclose, on account of not being present for when Discord had showed up, but she had heard enough to say definitively that this event “would be, at the very least, a very memorable one.”

Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo had exchanged looks, agreeing silently that it might very well be.

But there was nothing they could do but wait for the Spring Fling dance to come around. In that time, dates were secured. Sweetie Belle had an enormously easy show of it—her occasional air-headedness and impulsivity aside, privately she was the sweetheart of the sophomore class, though she chose, to none of the Crusaders’ surprise, to go with Button Mash (an odd choice, considering 1) he hadn’t been aware of the Spring Fling dance at all, somehow, and 2) he hadn’t been the one to ask her; she’d done the asking). Scootaloo had her fair share of admirers, mostly from the school’s soccer team, and she flitted between one and another, entertaining one idea before moving on to the next. Eventually she decided, in her typical brusque but well-meaning manner, “Rumble will do.” Diamond Tiara would go with Snip, and her best friend Silver Spoon would go with Snip’s best friend, Snails. Somehow this was no surprise.

That left Apple Bloom. She wasn’t sure who she would be going with, nor, really, if she wanted to go with anyone. She had found her way out of the starry-eyed “romance talk” that most girls her age had become entrapped in a long time ago (Scootaloo was less likely to admit it, but it was clear she was still caught up in its splendor). Reality had set in, though not unjustly nor cruelly. Apple Bloom was by no means unpopular with the general sophomore male population, but she could brush aside the mix of emotions and hormonal fog that came with the territory much more easily than most others. In other words, she was a down-to-earth girl, far older in mind and spirit than she let on, and silly high school romps weren’t the center of her attention.

Of course, that made her look at the current “high school romps” going on around her. Soul and Sunset, Clyde and Rarity, Swift and Pinkie, Gaige and Flash, Artifex and Adagio, Ink and Mac—the list went on, and as far as she could tell, these were not romps so much as they were fully committed, fully realized and loving relationships. So maybe what she meant was that she wasn’t—and decidedly couldn’t—be focused on getting into one in her sophomore year. By all accounts, and by the evidence her sister’s friends gave her, it was best to, at the earliest, wait until her junior year to start worrying about going out with someone.

Thus, as the Spring Fling approached, she had not only failed to care, but she had also failed to try and hook up with someone, as Scootaloo, ever herself, put not-oh-so-eloquently. She couldn’t care less. Besides, helping out with preparing the event took up most of her time—among the orders, the sweetest non-alcoholic apple cider that Sweet Apple Acres had to offer was among the most highly requested. And as always, she threw herself into it with as much gusto as a girl of her stature could.

The night before the event, they were loading crates of the beverage onto Big Mac’s truck. As Applejack and Mac handled the heavy lifting, Apple Bloom and Ink—who had stopped by at the request of Mac—carefully looked over the order manifest. Ink made a confused noise in the back of her throat. “Twenty-five crates? Does the school really need that much?”

“They typically do maybe ten or so,” Apple Bloom said, “but ah guess they decided they needed more.” She suspected it had something to do with Superintendent Discord, but she kept that thought to herself.

“Huh. Go figure. At least nobody’s going to get blackout drunk.”

“Amen to the ‘no blackout’ thing,” Applejack said, grunting as she heaved another crate onto the truck’s bed. “Rainbow’s bad enough on even a little bit.”

“You’ve seen her drink? Wait, she drinks?”

“It’s more like she takes a sip, then loses it. She’s a lightweight.”

“It’s true,” Apple Bloom said. “Ah’ve seen it. She’s the worst.” She shook her head. “Honestly, Ah don’t see the deal with drinkin’ anything of that sort, but Ah guess she’ll do her and all that.”

“She’ll be doing none of that at the dance,” Applejack said firmly. “Ah’ll make sure of it.”

“Speaking of the dance,” Ink said, turning to the elder Apple sister, “are you thinking of taking anyone?”

“Me? Naw, can’t say I have.”

Apple Bloom saw a mischivous glint in Ink’s eyes. “Really? What about that gray-skinned boy you’ve been chatting up lately? What’s his name? Straight Ledge?”

“Straight Edge,” Applejack corrected. She’d pulled her stetson down just a bit, and if Apple Bloom wasn’t mistaken, she was blushing.

Mac looked over, surprised. “What’s that? You mean, somebody’s finally caught Applejack’s eye?”

“Don’t be implyin’ what yer implyin’, boy,” Applejack said. “We’re just friends.”

“Sure,” he said. Then he gestured to Ink. “But then again, so were we at first.”

Ink smiled at him. “I’m sure this ‘Straight Edge’ is a nice boy, Applejack. There’s no need to feel embarrassed.”

“He’s a punk,” she muttered. Yes, Apple Bloom was correct; she was definitely blushing. “And… and he may or may not have brought up the dance a few times recently…”

Ink let out a decidedly girlish giggle. “And you may or may not have said yes, then?”

“Consarn, Ink. Quit yer teasing before I deck ya.”

“Mac, defend me!”

“Sorry, Ink. No one gets to tease my sister before Ah do.”

“Mac!” Applejack protested. But he and Ink were already consumed by a laughing fit, and would not respond to any of her gruffled remarks. “Oh, forget you both, then. Why doesn’t Apple Bloom get this kind of treatment?”

Apple Bloom opened her mouth to respond, only for Ink to interrupt: “Because she isn’t interested in anyone. At least, anyone that we know of.”

“Thanks, Ink,” Bloom said.

“And if she was,” Mac said, “y’know we’d be on her in a second. You just happen to be at the right place and time.”

“Ain’t I the luckiest girl in the world,” Applejack mumbled.

Their laughter eventually died down long enough for them all to finish loading the order onto the truck. “I am excited for this, though,” Ink admitted; they were still on the topic of the Spring Fling event, which, Bloom supposed, was no surprise, considering it was happening tomorrow. “It’s the last dance of the year. The last one before we graduate…”

“Shucks, when you put it that way…” Applejack said.

“Well, I’m not saying that, because of this, you should go out with that boy,” Ink replied, looking at Applejack with a teasing smile. “But I am saying… well, wouldn’t it be nice to go out one night, at a party with all your friends, and dance awfully with someone else?”

“You can’t dance, Ink?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Not a single step,” Ink said. “For the record, neither can Mac.”

“It’s true,” the eldest Apple rumbled. “Makes it perfect, really.”

“Couldn’t your friend Artifex teach you?”

Ink shook her head. “Maybe if it was less sporadic dancing—like ballroom, I guess. I’ve seen him and Adagio dance before—that seems to be what they’re good at. But swing dancing? I’m willing to bet he takes one look at the dance floor and says, ‘No way.’”

“Five bucks says Adagio tries to make him,” Applejack said, to which Ink surprisingly said she’ll take her up on that offer.

“Well, at least we’ll be dancing awfully with each other,” the lavender-skinned girl said to Mac, looking back up at him. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Mac smiled. “It counts for the whole, silly thing, Ink.” And he kissed her on the top of her head.

Then, seemingly without warning, the entire conversation shifted into silence. Apple Bloom could almost feel the weight press upon them, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. They came around the truck and leaned against the hood, looking up at the stars. All of them: Applejack, Big Macintosh, Apple Bloom, and now Ink Quill. They were looking up there, shoulder to shoulder, thinking, perhaps, about the future, or the present, or the past, but thinking together, being together.

Apple Bloom looked at Ink, and saw something new in her—and yet, strangely, it seemed to make all the sense in the world to see her like that. Like this was where she belonged—with Mac, and with them.

Then Applejack raised both her arms, stretched them to the sky, and let out a big yawn. “Whoowee! Well, Ah’m beat. And Ah’ve still got a lotta homework left to do, ugh.”

“Yeah. And I guess I’d better get going, too,” Ink said.

“I’ll drive you back,” Mac said.

“If it’s no bother.”

“Of course it’s no bother, Ink.”

He and his girlfriend wished the other Apples goodnight—Ink even gave Applejack an extremely tight hug. They’d come a long way from their initial misgivings for each other, Bloom suddenly realized.

As Mac and Ink drove away, Bloom continued to think: they’d all come so far…

She blinked, then smiled to herself. When did she get so sentimental?

***

The night passed, and the day afterwards passed, too, and soon it was evening, and the Spring Fling event was in full sway. All the decorations and banners were set up; Vinyl came in and prepped her music; the food was rolled in and placed on the tables; and on one of those tables was placed, totally inconspicuously, was a bowl of grass-green bananas.

Then the students began to trickle in. Less of a show as the All Hallows’ Eve Event, since it was constrained only to the population of CHS, they all arrived quickly and without much fanfare, but still with great excitement, dressed in their best spring wear, and no doubt slowly coming to the realization that this was the end of an era for more than several prominent members of the student body. Some would be going off to college. Some, to trade school. And still some would, perhaps, be visiting a distant homeworld for the first time in ages. Some had plans, and still some others decided life would be best spent flying high on instinct and intuition, the only maps guiding them the ones they drew in their hearts.

Some members of the faculty also arrived, among them being, most strikingly, Principal Celestia, Vice Principal Luna, and the now two-year-veteran Language Arts teacher, Mr. Solil, who was wrapped comfortably around the slender arm of the younger sister. Their relationship had recently lost its secret nature, but even still, it came as a surprise that they had now been dating for almost an entire year. The two sisters, all pleasant and all smiles, welcomed the students to the Spring Fling dance, and expressed their hope that they would all enjoy the dance until the very end.

And so the festivities began.

Tucked away in one corner was Apple Bloom. With her were Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Diamond Tiara, and Silver Spoon, as well as their dates. They were watching the event with excitement, though the five girls knew more than the boys about what was planned.

“Boys,” Diamond Tiara said, batting her eyelashes, “would you be a dear and get us girls something to drink?”

They all scrambled away, practically on each other’s heels. Scootaloo let out a low whistle. “Wow. You’ve practically got them eating out of your hand, DT.”

“Oh, that was nothing. I'm sure that if Sweetie Belle tried it, they’d respond much faster.”

Sweetie Belle blinked. “Really? You think?”

“Well, yeah. You’re the most endearing out of all of us.”

“I thought Apple Bloom was the most endearing.”

“If she was, wouldn't she have a boy with her?”

“I told you, DT,” Bloom said, “Ah ain't interested in anybody.”

“That's a shame,” Silver Spoon said with a sigh. “Because from what I've heard, a lot of people are interested in you.”

This brought on several giggles from the fellow Crusaders, while Apple Bloom merely grumbled to herself. Boys. All hormones and no brains. Well, at least the ones in her grade. If Big Mac was like that… and with Ink…

She scrunched up her face, banishing the thought to places best left to non-memory.

“Hey, look over there,” Scootaloo suddenly said. She was pointing to the back of the large room. “Who’s that person darting behind Vinyl?”

Sweetie Belle stood on her tippy-toes to get a better look. “I think that’s Pinkie. In some sort of stealth suit.”

“Who’s that she’s dragging behind her?”

“I think that’s Soul.”

“And who’s that behind him?”

“Looks like Swift,” Diamond Tiara said. “He looks confused. Both boys do.”

“Well, it’s Pinkie. Can you blame them?”

“Look,” Scootaloo said. “She’s gone past Vinyl and now she’s doing some sort of cartwheel across the back. What’s she up to?”

Apple Bloom followed her with her eyes, and saw Soul and Swift struggling to keep up. Somehow none of the other people at the event noticed; perhaps the music and dancing kept them all busy. Pinkie paused by a rack of tables that were carefully lined up against the wall, before turning to Soul and Swift and making some quick motion with her hands. Judging by their bewildered expressions, the meaning was completely lost, and Pinkie’s annoyance was palpable.

Then, out of the tables, as though a stick-like figure melting out of the cracks, Superintendent Discord appeared. He waved Pinkie over, and the two entered into a hurried and whispered conversation. Soul and Swift looked on helplessly. The former kept glancing over at Principal Celestia and Vice Principal Luna, as though he meant to warn them with his eyes, but then Pinkie returned and dragged him by the ear over to the chaotic faculty member. Swift stayed behind, rubbing his own ear in sympathy.

Diamond Tiara let out a low cackle. “Oh, boy. Looks like the fun’s about to start.”

Then, the music cut. Vinyl coughed into a microphone, the feedback causing everyone in the room to wince. “Er, sorry,” she said, offering a sheepish grin. “Um, now that I have your attention…”

She cleared her throat. “Well, everyone, you’re probably all aware that we usually have some sort of small competition at all these events. And this time’s no different! However—” She paused; Apple Bloom saw her glance off to the side, towards what seemed to be Pinkie Pie’s direction. “—this time, instead of a lame, dollar-store gift prize, we’ll be giving out tickets to an all-paid Mediterranean cruise!”

Awed sighs and intrigued looks carried themselves through the gathered students. Superintendent Discord and Pinkie were watching approvingly.

“Now, to get these tickets, as I’m sure we all want them, it’s really simple—if you’ve seen the posters, you’ll know that part of tonight’s theme is swing dancing! So, in light of that, we’ll be holding a swing dancing competition for everyone here. The rules are simple: you’ll pair off, and line up at the front of the room. Then, I’ll start playing a specially designed swing track—” She appeared to gag at the thought, before recovering swiftly; “—and four pairs will come ahead, and start dancing like there’s no tomorrow. Our esteemed judges of the SPPC will evaluate each pair. And the winning pair will win these tickets.”

“Oop, that means me,” Diamond Tiara said.

“You’re a judge?” Scootaloo hissed.

She turned around, offering a catty smile. “Of course I am! At least this way, I’ll be close enough to the fun when it goes down!”

“But what about your date?”

“Oh, him. Just take my cup for me, and everything will be fine.” She hitched up her dress skirt and began quickly walking away.

Scootaloo’s shock melted into a grumble. The boys were starting to come back, though their progress had slowed with the excitement Vinyl’s announcement had generated.

No one appeared as excited, however, as Principal Celestia, who clapped her hands together, absolutely delighted. Meanwhile her sister appeared less than amused. The two began to whisper fiercely—clearly they were bickering about the matter.

In the midst of this, pairs were already being gathered up, and a line of them was forming at the front. The Crusaders and Silver Spoon, being near there, could see clearly who would be entering the impromptu contest. Most were simply fellow students, agreeing to split the prize between themselves, and having no other relationship between them beyond just friendship and camaraderie. But predictably, there were the famed couples of Canterlot High whose stories were, in some ways, legendary. Among them were Big Mac and Ink, and Flash Sentry and Gaige.

Treble Mix suddenly appeared at the wub machine. He whispered something to Vinyl, and she nodded, getting out of her seat and taking his hand. It was clear what had transpired: she may have been the DJ, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to try for those tickets herself. And with an explosive personality such as Treble’s, Apple Bloom reasoned she’d have a good chance of succeeding.

She could hear, too, Ink and Gaige already beginning to squabble; they were close enough to be heard. “Come on, Ink,” Gaige was saying. “If you throw the whole thing now, I promise, I’ll send you some nice pictures from the cruise.”

“Not a chance, Gaige! Mac and I are going to win those tickets if it’s the last thing I do!”

“What?! What kind of best friend are you, that you won’t sacrifice yourself for me?!”

“I could ask you the same thing! What do you need with a cruise, anyway? It’s not like Deathtrap can come with you! He might short-circuit along the ocean, and then what would happen?”

“Baka! As if I’d take Deathtrap! I’m taking Brad here and you know it!”

“And if you get seasick?”

“Then I throw up in Brad’s hands! What’s it to you?!”

Mac and Flash, on the other hand, seemed only amused at the girls’ antics. Apple Bloom found herself smiling and shaking her head.

As the line grew longer, Bloom turned away and looked across the rest of the room. A noticeable crowd had gathered to the sides, watching eagerly. Perhaps most eager was Principal Celestia, though that was a title that could be contested easily by Discord, who stood at the opposite side of the room, watching carefully. None seemed to pay him any mind. Soul and Swift were nearby as well, but they looked about as nervous as sick puppies.

That left Pinkie. Where had she gone? Somehow she’d vanished from Discord’s side.

Then the music shifted. A decidedly upbeat, but clearly sporadic tune began to play—the first track. The first four of the pairs came forward, nervous bundles of energy. None had probably taken a proper course in swing dancing; their initial movements were stiff, their eyes uncertain, eyeing one another up as well as the crowd and the oncoming pairs. But soon they were getting the hang of it. It was a matter of following the beat and feeling the passion rise in you. Perhaps none were professional dancers of any sort, but at the very least, they managed to make flopping and flailing look almost graceful and coordinated.

All the while, the crowd cheered, the other pairs clapped and laughed, and Apple Bloom almost forgot about the underlying nature of the competition.

That is, until Pinkie’s head appeared in a ceiling tile above.

She was holding something in her hands. Apple Bloom squinted, trying to get a better look at it, but she could not see what it was. Abruptly her view was cut off by a squealing Ink and an incited Gaige as they pushed forward onto the dance floor, their boyfriends at their heels. Following fast behind them were Vinyl and Treble—more than one boastful word was exchanged between the Mix siblings—and then, the final pair, stepped confidently into the circle. It was Celestia and Luna, the former almost like a giddy schoolgirl, the latter still unsure of what to make of her sister. It appeared she had been dragged onto the floor. And with the eyes of their students on her, she did not appear capable of waltzing away, as it were.

“Get ready to bite my cruise-riding ass, Ink!” Gaige called, glaring daggers at the other girl.

“Not unless I get those tickets first!”

“And what if I get them?” Treble added, in a slightly hopeful tone.

Both girls turned to him, glaring. “Then we’ll pry them from your cold, dead body,” Gaige said lowly. And Ink nodded, in apparent and sudden agreement. Bloom could practically see the fear drip out of Treble’s pores, and the hesitant smiles on Mac and Flash spoke more than a million words could have.

Oh, brother, Apple Bloom found herself thinking.

“Now, girls,” Celestia called, “it isn’t nice to speak such crass things.” She paused, getting them all to look at her. There was a mischievous glint in her eye. “Especially since you’ll all be biting my ‘cruise-riding ass,’ anyway.”

“Tia,” Luna moaned, “don’t incite them!”

The song changed, and they began to dance. They were quick and sharp and fluid, like flexible waves of song and passion—no effort was to be spared. It was then that Pinkie struck. The ceiling tile opened once more. She leaned out, glanced around, then brought forth her prize—a fresh, green banana peel. She dangled it a bit, before letting it drop in the center, right behind Principal Celestia.

She almost stepped onto it. Almost stepped onto it, and had she stepped on it, she would have surely slipped and kicked her sister upside the chin, sending the two of them flying, fulfilling Discord’s master plan. Unfortunately, not even he could have predicted the series of sudden and almost-instantaneous events that followed immediately after the peel landed.

Gaige, in a fit of competitive brashness, suddenly pulled Flash ahead of her, trying to disrupt Ink’s dancing. But Ink was already swinging away with Mac, and Treble and Vinyl ended up in the way. Desperately, Gaige tried to pull Flash away, and was at first successful, keeping the two pairs, for the moment apart. Unfortunately, the combined momentum upset her balance, and she had to step quickly and turn to avoid falling. In doing so, she nearly hit Luna on the hip with her boyfriend. Yet luckily for them, the Vice Principal was a far quicker and graceful dancer than one might have supposed, and she managed to reroute her sister and herself away from the twirling pair. In doing so, they had left the peel behind.

That still left Gaige spinning nearly out of control. Another step, another swing, and this time she fell, pulling Flash with her. In doing so, they became obstacles in the path of Vinyl and Treble, who, moving too quickly themselves, lost their footing and tripped over the fallen pair.

Then it was only Ink, Mac, Celestia, and Luna still standing; but neither pair had noticed what had transpired. But they could feel the physical disturbance erupt around them, and each tried to adapt and move away from it.

Only, Ink misjudged where everyone else had fallen. As Celestia and Luna successfully piloted themselves away, she stepped close to Treble. Realizing the short distance, she twisted, and found herself almost tripping over Gaige. Mac attempted to right her, only for her to turn again and step back another step. The combination of uncontrollable momentum and disorientation from the constant turning and twisting made her dizzy, and she took another step in a certain direction—

“AGH!”

She stepped right on top of the peel, and her leg careened itself ahead of her, nearly taking Mac’s head off had he not stepped in just the right way so as to accidentally avoid her kick. The heels she’d been wearing loosened their grip around her feet, and went vaulting through the air as she fell.

From there, a series of further mishaps followed.

Artifex and Adagio were off to the side. Had Apple Bloom been near to them a few minutes prior, she would have heard the former villain ask her boyfriend if he wanted to swing dance, and she would have heard his slightly terse, if dry reply: a quick tap with his cane against his leg, a bit of a head-tilt, and a low, “No way.” Then Bloom would have heard Adagio laugh, and implore the boy to give it a shot, granting Applejack the victory for her five-dollar bet.

Instead, what Apple Bloom saw was Ink’s shoe rocket into Artifex’s face. He crumpled in an instant. Adagio, who was standing right next to him, found herself on the receiving end of his cane, which launched itself up and at her, knocking her down as well. She had been holding onto a cup of punch, too, and so that went flying, the contents spilling out up and behind her—and who should be behind them but Applejack, talking to that gray-skinned boy whom she said was her friend, into whom she was slowly leaning, her lips coming close to his—only to be interrupted by Adagio’s drink splashing noisily across their wide-eyed faces.

Silence. Absolute, stunned, breathtaking silence.

Followed by low groans, and Celestia and Luna looking around, confused and worried.

Followed further by Discord laughing his ass off.

***

“Course, it came t’ light who’d planned everything. Pinkie almost fessed up immediately right when she realized that everything had not gone accordin’ to plan.” Apple Bloom laughed. “God, I’d never seen Principal Celestia look so mortified and also on the verge of breaking out in laughter.”

“Vice Principal Luna was pissed,” Mac noted gravely. “Threatened to have Discord fired then and there. Ah was surprised when Mr. Solil managed to calm her down.” He shook his head, closing his eyes. “And Ink was absolutely horrified about what happened. Wouldn’t stop apologizing to Artifex even as school came to an end.”

“Though, that was when we found out that Applejack’s friend wasn’t just a friend,” Bloom said. “So, Ah mean, it wasn’t a total loss. An’ nobody was really hurt.”

“Just mah pride,” Mac replied. “And Ink swore never to dance again—least, not for a long time. And certainly not t’ swing music.”

Dahlia was sitting in the back, leaning forward intently. “That does beat my year’s senior prank,” she mused. “All we did was put up silly string, and then clean it up immediately afterwards.”

“Better that than bruised joints an’ empty hands,” Apple Bloom said.

“You’re kidding. You mean, someone actually won?”

“Oh, yeah! Those were real tickets, through and through; Discord didn’t lie about those. Ah think Cranky Doodle actually was the winner. He and his wife, Matilda. Didn’t know either of them could dance, but hot dang, they were good.”

Bloom turned the car right. She pulled into a parking lot and stopped the car, letting out a sigh. “Well, there you have it. The Spring Fling event. It’s… honestly one of my favorite memories of back then.” She smiled at the rear-view mirror. “Definitely one of my all-time favorites.”

Dahlia smiled back at her. She understood perfectly why.