And If Any of You Have Been Unfortunate Enough to Have Been In a Car Wreck Then You May Wish to Look Away For This Part
“And so multiple historians have since concluded...” Miss Cheerilee used the crook of her hoof to sketch an exponentially rising bar graph across the schoolroom chalkboard, making sure to mark it with a miniature skull-and-crossbones. “...that by the end of hostilities, the imperialist Japonies forces were responsible for approximately ten million more murders than the combined forces of Whinny War Two's Germaney. An inconvenient fact that is typically muddied today by modern Equestrian economic relations.”
She slapped the chalk down, swiveled about, and faced the class with a bright, fuchsia smile.
“Well, that includes our history lesson for today! Tomorrow, we'll skip forward a bit in time and learn about the tragic dictatorship of Pol Pony and the Khmare Rouge! But before we go into scheduled assignments, any questions?”
One filly raised her jaundice'd hoof.
“Anypony besides Twist?” Cheerilee chirped.
Sweetie Belle's hoof went up.
“Yes, Sweetie Belle?”
Sweetie Belle's eyes narrowed as she leaned forward in her desk. “Where does Bitaly fit in all of this? I heard that they were involved in the War as well.”
“Ah! That's a very good question!” Cheerilee trotted over to her desk and flipped through a historical textbook. “Despite the epic rise of Maressolini's fascist dictatorship, the Bitalians were notoriously ill-equipped to engage in modern warfare, and they lost even more battles than they did in Whinny War One.” She pointed towards a spot on the Equestrian map. “Once the Equestrian invasion had reached their peninsula, Germaney was already having to send in military reinforcements. But do not let that distract you from the fact that in Nineteen Ninety-Eight, The Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and he plummeted sixteen feet through the Spanish's announcer's table."
Sweetie Belle blinked hard. She looked at the other students.
Apple Bloom's muzzle hung agape. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon exchanged stupefied glances.
Scootaloo snored into her textbook.
“Uhm... Miss Cheerilee?” Sweetie Belle sat up straight. “Who did what-now?”
“Close to the end of the War, both Maressolini and his mistress were captured, shot, and then hung upside down in public! Isn't history fun?” A girlish giggle, and Cheerilee next opened her planner. “Alright, class. Your homework for today...”
The foals were left scratching their fuzzy heads as their teacher read the assignments off.
“I love my sweet, delicious Carrot,” Cup Cake declared. “I truly do!” Nevertheless, the mare sighed, gently rocking the baby stroller forward and backward from where she sat on a park bench in the center of Ponyville. Pumpkin and Pound Cake were nestled within the sunlit bedding, stirring adorably in their sleep while birds chirped and flitted about overhead. “And while we... obviously came from separate religious upbringings, it has been something of a struggle every now and then. But only on the most remote occasion, mind you.”
Roseluck glanced up from the baby sweater she was knitting. The mare sat prettily beside the plump baker. “Yes, and? Did you fight over what was ultimately done to Pound Cake?”
Cup Cake blew out the side of her muzzle. “Don't say it like that. It's just tradition.”
Roseluck's eyes narrowed to granite slabs. “In my book, it's mutilation.”
“I've read in a magazine somewhere that young colts grow up healthier because of it.”
“The same magazine that talks about essential oils?”
“I'm not crazy, Roseluck. It bothered me at first as well, y'know. But... the same was done to Carrot and his father and his father before him.” Cup Cake rocked the stroller and shrugged. “None of them seem worse off. And y'know that thing they say about robbing a stallion of pleasure?” Her plump cheeks turned rosier as her eyelashes fluttered. “Didn't seem to affect my insatiable Carrot at all.”
“Yeah, but... like...” Roseluck waved a knitting needle in the air. “What gives you and him—or anypony for that matter—the right to do such a thing to Pound Cake's own body?”
“We're not talking about an amputation or removing ribs.”
“It still affects his entire life.” Roseluck sighed, returning to her sweater. “I'm coming across as really stuffy and judgmental, and I'm sorry. It's just—...I'm planning to have foals myself oneday, and I... don't ever see myself getting pressured into doing that to one of my children just because of some weird old tradition. No matter if my spouse believes in it or not.”
“I assure you; it's really not that weird.” Cup Cake smiled—then unsmiled. “Up until the stallion doing the procedure used his muzzle to suck away the blood. That... I wasn't entirely expecting.”
“Princess Celestia on a bike...”
“I know...” Cup Cake nodded, gazing off towards the distant reaches of the park. “But don't let that distract you from the fact that in Nineteen Ninety-Eight, The Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and he plummeted sixteen feet through the Spanish announcer's table."
Roseluck's needles clattered obtusely together. She winced, squinting up at Cup Cake. “Uhm... what?”
“Carrot says it's written that an infant is strongest on his eighth day. That's why they perform it then.” She chuckled nervously, fanning herself. “I wish I was that strong eight days after foaling twins! Girl, lemme tell ya! Ha ha ha!”
“Uhm...” Roseluck's brow furrowed. “...but what was that just now about an undertaker and a... mane kind?”
“Did you know that Pumpkin and Pound are both Geminis?! May Twenty-Second! Barely made it! Ha ha ha! Isn't that just incredible?!”
Roseluck nervously hugged the incomplete sweater to her fuzzy chest... trembling noticeably.
“Alright!” A stallion in a hard hat cupped his hooves around his muzzle, shouting up towards a metal mass of machinery on tank treads. “Slow! Keep it steady!”
Inside the belly of the gigantic crane, the operator pushed and pulled at levers, carefully hoisting a series of steel bars up towards the upper levels of an office building being constructed in the heart of Ponyville. The taut cable teetered slightly as the worker wrestled for control of the weighted materials.
“A mite bit windy today!” he whinnied through the crane's speaker system. “Maybe we should wait until it dies down a bit?”
“Nah, it's okay! You've got this!” the stallion shouted up at him, backtrotting and gesturing with his hooves. “We're running low on company time! Gotta finish reinforcing the top floor!”
“Am I almost clear?!”
“No! You gotta raise it higher! About ten meters!” The stallion on the ground squinted while the shadow of the steel beams passed over him and several other construction workers. “A little bit higher! Okay—keep it slow and steady! Now... a little to the right!”
The operator licked his muzzle and pivoted as told.
“A little more...!”
The heavy planks of steel inched ever-closer to an unfinished floor where ponies in hard hats were reaching out to grasp the dangling materials.
“Good! You almost have it!” The stallion on the ground smiled. “Just don't forget that in Nineteen Ninety-Eight, the Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and he plummeted sixteen through the Spanish announcer's table!"
The crane operator flinched in his booth. “Wait, what?!”
“And then after climbing back up the cell...!” The stallion continued bombastically. “...Mankind was choke-slammed through the top of the cage where he and a folding chair fell eleven feet onto the center of the squared circle!”
“Feet?! What are feet?!?” The operator cringed in confusion. “Don't you mean meters—?!?”
“Look out!”
“It's coming in too fast!”
“Blessed Celestia—!”
With a loud mechanical groan, the crane plowed through the top portion of the building's skeletal frame. Ponies dove off the top—screaming all the way towards the stone hard ground below. A sickening snap filled the air as the framework of the crane buckled. The wildly swinging cable lost its grip of the steel beams, and soon the sky above Ponyville was filled with a blizzard of murderous metal sailing violently towards sea level.
Howling voices.
Blood curdling cries.
A series of thuds—like cruel thunder—and the air filled with dust, ash, and the wails of the innocent.
“Aaaaaaaugh!”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
“My legs! I can't feel my legs!”
“Grlllgh... intestines... sp-spilling outgrllggghhh!”
“Kill me! Please... somepony... anypony... killlll meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
“...and the choke-slam sent Mankind through the top of the cage where he fell eleven feet to the center of the squared circle below,” Cheerilee spoke slowly, guiltily.
The Cutie Mark Crusaders looked from her to the center of the Friendship Castle Throneroom. Their eyes lit up at their adult peers.
Twilight Sparkle and Spike sat at the far side of the Friendship Map. They exchanged blank expressions. Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash were likewise vexed. Pinkie Pie sat on the edge of her chair with sincere amazement.
After a long enough pause, Apple Bloom gently nudged her teacher.
Clearing her throat, Cheerilee reopened her muzzle and let the words flow “naturally.”
“And... when the c-camera zoomed in, the viewing audience could see that Mankind's loose tooth was lodged through the inside of his nose.”
Fluttershy grimaced. Rarity fanned herself.
“And... uhm...” Cheerilee winced as she spoke. “...then Undertaker... choke-slammed Mankind onto a sea of thumbtacks that he had spread across the mat. And... uh... he finished Mankind off with a Tombstone Piledriver.” A gulp. “Three-count. Game and match.”
“What...” Spike leaned forward. “...does any of that mean?”
Cheerilee whimpered. “I don't know.”
Rarity looked at Applejack. “What, pray tell, is a Mankind?”
Applejack winced right back. “What the hay is a 'thumb?'”
“Who cares?!?” Pinkie Pie leapt up onto the table. “Woohooo!” She clap-clap-clapclapclapped. “That was awesome!” She again clap-clap-clapclapclapped. “That was awesome!”
“Pinkie...” Twilight chided, then looked towards Ponyville's beloved schoolteacher. “Cheerilee, did you... run into any poison joke lately?”
“No! I haven't!” Cheerilee raised a forelimb, ears folded apologetically. “Honest...!”
“She was just teaching us world history!” Sweetie Belle's voice cracked. “Then—out of nowhere—she started rambling... about this epic battle between unknown titans.”
“Without warnin', too.” Apple Bloom nodded. “And what's more—she didn't even remember a lick of it after it was said! We all had to quote it back to her.”
“Friggin' wacky...” Rainbow Dash craned her neck. “Scoots—is this all true?”
“I don't know,” Scootaloo yawned. “I was sleeping at the time.”
“Ha ha!” Rainbow winked at the little pegasus. “There's hope for you yet, scamp!”
“But... you're aware of what you're saying now, Miss Cheerilee?” Fluttershy asked.
“Yes... and no...” The mare gazed down towards the floor, shuddering. “After the Crusaders brought it to my attention, I realized what I was saying... but... b-but I've since been powerless to stop it!”
“So it does happen more than once?” Spike asked.
“Yes!” Sweetie Belle nodded. “And from the sound of things, it's happening all over town!”
Fluttershy looked at Twilight. “That would explain the sudden influx of confused and injured ponies flooding the emergency room of Ponyville Central.”
“So...” Twilight rubbed her chin in thought. “...there's an enchanted mantra inexplicably filling the mouths of Ponyville citizens...”
“How's it spreadin'?” Applejack adjusted her hat as she looked at the others. “Ya reckon it's like the pony pox—only tongue-based?”
“I don't know...” Sweetie Belle shook her head. “But if we don't do something about it fast, everypony will forget that in Nineteen Ninety-Eight, The Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell...”
“!!!!!!” Everypony gasped adorably and flung their wide eyes at Sweetie Belle.
The unicorn in question shrunk nervously between her crusader familiars.
“And... mmmm...” Tears welled up in her eyes as she squeaked: “He plummeted sixteen feet through the Spanish announcer's table."
“Oh my sweet gentle sister!” Rarity, already weeping, leapt clean over the Friendship Map and scooped Sweetie Belle up in her loving forelimbs. “What horrible tragedy has befallen youuuu-uuuu-uuuuu!”
“I... I d-don't know...!” Sweetie Belle sobbed into Rarity's porcelain chest fluff. “...but... b-but Terry Funk rushed in ringside and t-totally broke kayfabe on camera by checking on Mick Foley's while they began raising the cage with Mark Calaway on it!”
“WILL SOMEPONY PLEASE DO SOMETHIIIII-IIIII-IIIIING!!!” Rarity caterwauled.
“Yeesh... will ya calm down, Rares?!” Rainbow Dash frowned, pointing. “It's just a bunch of nonsense ponies are being forced to day! It's not like it's terminal plot cancer or nothing!”
“Yes!” Fluttershy nodded. “Look at Miss Cheerilee! She seems perfectly fine!”
“That's right.” Cheerilee nodded... then fidgeted. “I mean, I'm still single, but...—”
“It's still an involuntary behavior that's manifesting without warning,” Twilight Sparkle said. “And—as far as I'm concerned—that's still a magical problem that must be addressed.”
“But who's responsible?” Fluttershy asked.
“I've got an even better question.” Spike shrugged. “What's 'Undertaker?'”
“Spike...” Twilight sighed. “An undertaker is a pony who takes care of the proper ceremonial treatment, presentation, and subsequent burial of the dead. I told you I was planning to lecture you on the nature of mortality vs immortality, but not while our five friends are present—”
“No—I mean... I know all that!” Spike frowned. “But the mantra refers to 'Undertaker' like it's a proper noun! Same with this 'Mankind' titan that the Undertaker is battling! So... like... could Undertaker and Mankind be some sort of prehistoric deities with powers that crush our modern understanding?”
“Naaaah...” Starlight Glimmer inexplicably trotted through the throne room, sipping from a levitating mug of coffee. “Just a really epic PPV. Classic stuff. Hey everypony.” She winked across the room in mid-stride. “Eyyyyy Spike. We still on for Saturday—?”
“Starlight?!?” Twilight gasped. The alicorn's horn burned brighter than the sun, and she swiftly floated the mare in question towards the table.
“Whoah—!” Flailing, Starlight dropped her mug. She huffed, floating with angrily folded forelimbs beside the Princess of Friendship. “Twilight, dear, what have I told you about the tugging?”
“What did you just say?!” Twilight's eyes blinked hard. “Just now?!”
“What?” Starlight Glimmer shrugged. “The Undertaker vs Mankind! King of the Ring '98! It's an epic Pay-Per-View!”
Pinkie hopped onto the table, glaring Starlight down. “Maybe you're an epic Pay-Per-View!” A blue hoof shoved her off again. “Whoah!”
Rainbow flew between her friends and the floating Starlight. “Look, Starlight. Level with us. Do you actually know what this nonsense is all about?”
“Uhhhh... kinda...?” Starlight picked the mug off the floor with her telekinesis and sad-face'd at its empty contents. “...last time I visited Sunset Shimmer, she took me to a place where they were selling records of the wrestling match at half price. It was some sort of special religious shrine in that world: F.Y.E?”
Applejack did a double-take. “A wrasslin' match?!?”
“That's right.” Starlight nodded. “Mankind and Undertaker. Not their actual names. But they're... uh.... really big humans in spandex who used to wage gladiatorial combat in an outdated army named... the World Wankery Fruits... or something. I dunno. All I remember is that there was a lot of blood involved. And shouting. Looked fun. Sunset, Rainbow and I had a blast watching it on their big screen plasma portal thingy.” She lent Twilight puppy dog eyes. “Can I stop floating now please?”
Twilight set Starlight down before trotting towards her. “Are you trying to tell us that this mantra is related to... a blood sport in Sunset Shimmer's dimension?”
“Mantra? Pffft! What mantra?” Starlight leaned back and fluffed her mane. “Look, I know we defeated—like—every existing monster in all of Equestria, but that doesn't mean we gotta look for crises where crises don't exist! Honestly, Twilight, you should know by now that in Nineteen Ninety-Eight, the Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and plummeted sixteen feet through the Spanish announcer's table." A beat. Starlight's eyes crossed. “Whoah. That was weird.”
“What did you bring back with you?!?” A sobbing Rarity hugged Sweetie so close that she nearly asphyxiated. “WHAT DID YOU BRING BACK WITH YOU?!?”
“Rarity, calm down! Land's sakes!” Applejack sighed. “At least now we've got a source for the garbly-gook.”
“But how does that help us?” Spike shrugged. “Sure, we know the what behind the mantra but not the why!”
“Eh... I don't see what the big kerfluffle is about,” Starlight said with a shrug. “Just think of it as some really silly hiccups! I don't see why it has to impact our lives or drop Mankind through the top of the cage so that he fell eleven feet onto the center of the squared circle.” The mare blinked hard, then clenched her teeth. “I really... really needed that coffee, Twilight...”
The alicorn was too busy pacing at that point. “Maybe if there was a muzzle spell... or a synaptic manaoverload that could trip the verbal tick...”
“Euggggh...” Rainbow face-hoofed. “That could take hours to conjure up!”
“Well, thankfully, we have our entire afternoon free—”
“No. Actually—” Spike pointed. “Tonight you're meeting with the ambassador from Griffonstone.”
“... … ...right.” Twilight cleared her throat. “Well, tomorrow morning, we'll get right on finding a cure for this mysterious malad—”
“Uhhhhhh...” Spike twiddled his claws. “Student field trip to the canning factory.”
“... … … … … ...Wednesday! On Wednesday we'll meet up with Zecora and see if she can cook up a—”
“Parent Teacher meeting with Ember.” Spike counted off his claws. “Thursday: Hippogriff Awareness Seminar. Friday: The Hoofball Game for alumni...”
“Yeesh...” Pinkie Pie sat up, shaking her mane fluffier. “...who's idea was it to start this annoying school?”
Fluttershy looked at Spike. “What about Saturday?”
“Saturday, Starlight and I are—” Spike froze. “... … ...that is, Starlight's going to need help with...” He froze even harder. A shift. A squirm. “On Saturday I'll be shedding my scales. Sorry.”
“Yes.” Starlight sipped from the empty mug, hiding rosie'd cheeks. “He will be.”
“Guhhh!” Rainbow Dash slumped back in her chair. “Then how and when are we gonna deal with this stupid problem? I mean, I'll be too busy enough with it is flying with the Wonderbolts to worry about how the Undertaker choke-slammed Mankind onto a sea of thumbtacks before finishing him with a Tombstone Piledriver!” Her ruby eyes crossed at the end of that. “Buh?”
Twilight took a long, thoughtful look at Cheerilee.
Cheerilee blinked back.
“Hmmmmmmmmmm...” Twilight rubbed her chin. She thought. She squinted. “Meh...” A wave of the hoof. “...the Princesses.”
“The Princesses!”
“The Princesses...”
“Wooh!” Clap-clap-clapclapclap. “The Princesses!”
Fabulous, proper, and regal, Princess Celestia marched across the lengths of the opulent royal bedchamber.
“My little pony,” she addressed the country town schoolteacher sitting patiently on the edge of the plush bed. “You have no idea how much it pleases me that my good and faithful student has chosen to show faith in the magical talents of my sister and I.” She smiled down at Cheerilee while her mane danced splendidly in a magic breeze. “In this day and age—after so many heroics done bravely by the Element bearers—we almost thought our usefulness was at an end!”
Cheerilee attempted a curtsy from where she sat. “Far from it, Your Highness. In fact, if you can solve this paralytic mantra, Princess Twilight is almost certain that it will keep ponies from forgetting that in Nineteen Ninety-Eight, the Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and he plummeted sixteen feet through the Spanish announcer's table...” Cheerilee gritted her teeth, then spat venomously towards the gold-tinted walls of the palace room. “Ohhhh... I'm so peeved!”
“Language, my little pony.”
Cheerilee's coat turned even redder. “S-sorry, your Majesty!”
A midnight blue figure marched out from the shadows. “It is far worse than I thought, dear sister,” Luna said gravely. “If we do not act soon, all of Equestria's mouths will be full of... professional wrestling.”
“Mmmmmm...” Celestia nodded, eyes steely and determined. “It will be worse than the Age of Grogar.”
“Then let us make haste.” Luna approached the mare on the bed. “Dearest friend. I shall induce you into a deep sleep. Form there, I shall penetrate your dreams while my sister erects a magical barrier around the entire room. Through deep meditation and the melding of our minds, I shall endeavor to find the root of this invasive magic and dislodge it from your consciousness.”
“I... I understand...”
“Then you agree to these procedures?”
“Absolutely, your Highness.” Cheerilee nodded. “J-just one thing...” A sheepish smile, and she pointed with a tender hoof. “If... uhm... you accidentally stumble upon any compromising fantasies about Big Macintosh and a pool full of apple sauce, I would kindly ask that you ignore—”
“SLEEP.” Luna slapped Cheerilee's forehead.
THUMP! Cheerilee fell back on the bedspread. “Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzonnnnnnnnnkkkkk...!”
“Are we ready to begin?” Luna asked.
Celestia's eyes were already glowing. “Indeed.” She telekinetically pulled the windowblinds shut, darkening the room as she conjured a translucent barrier around the entire scene. “Proceed with the brain penetration, sister.”
“Affirmative.” Luna floated cross-legged besides Cheerilee as a stream of magic connected between their small-and-large craniums.
Celestia afforded a momentary sigh. “And—perhaps, one of these days—could we maybe think about altering the vocabulary of how you choose to describe your—”
“I am deeply penetrating her soft, pliable mind!” Luna droned. Her eyes glowed hot as the energy beams between her and Cheeriless intensified. “Presently plowing through the fertile fields of her subconscious.”
Celestia's muzzle twisted, hardened, and relaxed. “Mmmmmm... acknowledged, dear sister...”
“Inseminating my subconscious intellect across her autonomic functions in order to allow access to her core.” Luna's teeth gritted as she sweated. “Searching for anomalous information. Searching. Searching. Searching...”
Celestia's glowing eyes narrowed. “Have you found the source of the mantra yet?”
“Negative.”
“Have you found anything yet?”
“... … ...Apple Sauce.”
“Mrnnngh... concentrate, sister.”
“Wait....!” Luna's ears perked up in mid meditation. “I have found something.”
Celestia tilted her head in her sister's direction. “Yes? What is it?”
“A most invasive anomaly indeed.”
“Can you root it out?”
“Searching...”
“Is it too much for you to bear on your own?”
“Searching... ...”
“Luna...”
“... … ...”
“Luna...!”
No response. The Moon Princess simply floated in place besides Cheerilee's bed, eyes bright and ears alert.
Celestia stepped towards her. “Sister... speak to me! Have you found the source of the magical curse?”
“I... have... f-found...”
“Yes?”
“I've...” Luna sweated. “...found.”
Celestia leaned towards. “Yes....???”
Luna's mouth opened wide... then wider... then bellowed with the force of a hundred million collapsing stars:
“BAH GAWDDD!!!”
The room shook.
The shield buckled.
Celestia stumbled backwards, blood trickling from her ear canals.
“BAH GAWDDD!!! THEY KILLED HIM!!!”
The barrier dissolved completely.
The floorboards flew off their foundation.
Windows shattered.
The entire eastern wall of the palace exploded into a million chunks of shrapnel, flying towards the horizon and carrying Celestia's flailing body with them.
“LUUUUUNAAAAAAAAAA!” the monarch of Equestria screamed in terror, becoming a glittery blip against the wild blue yonder.
“AS GOD IS MY WITNESS!!!” Luna's head spun like a tank turret, and her mouth launched sonic volley after sonic volley into the stratosphere, destroying any solid portion of Canterlot lying in the way. The air was filled with debris and noise as her thundering voice split the heavens. “HE'S BEEN BROKEN IN HALF!!!”
From all corners of the crumbling city, armored guards flew in, bright-eyed and equipped with shields and spears.
“Your Majesty!”
“What—”
Luna's glowing eyes snapped to meet them, along with her gaping maw: “BAH GAWDDD!!!!”
The guards screamed as their bodies were sent flying every which way.
Zeppelins swooped in, cannons armed and targeting the upper palace floor—
“BAH GAWDDD!!!!!!!!” Luna shouted.
The zeppelins split in two, falling towards streets filled with flames and screaming citizens galloping every which way.
Like a mare possessed, Luna stormed out of the rubble-strewn palace, shouting towards the fleeing equines and sending more buildings crumbling.
“WILL SOMEBODY STOP THE DAYUM MATCH?!?!?”
The earth shook.
Tidal waves rolled up and down the edges of the Canterlot mountains
And as the sky above turned blood red...
...Cheerilee rolled over in the bed, nuzzling the soft covers as a drunken smile crossed her muzzle.
“Mmmmmmm... dive on in, Big Mac. The sauce is fine... zzzzzzzzzzonkkkkk...”
Ambulance noises.
Crackling flames.
Crying infants.
The center of Canterlot was a war zone.
Twilight, Spike, and their friends stood in the center of the massacred capital.
Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie gawked at the carnage with gaping expressions.
Rarity leaned—trembling—into Applejack while the farm mare covered her muzzle with a hat to dam the vomit.
Rainbow Dash winced, flapping her wings and swiftly joining the rest of the Wonderbolts in dragging bodies from the rubble.
Pacing back and forth, Twilight Sparkle paused to pick up the tattered remnants of a family photo from the ruins of an apartment building. She heard a sobbing voice from nearby. Deadpan, the alicorn shuffled over and stood above a huddled guardspony.
“Tell me what happened here, soldier.”
“It... it was awful...” The stallion clutched his helmet to keep from seeing the red-tinted sky full of flickering ash and smoke. “...Princess Luna... sh-she just started bellowing thunder out of nowhere! And... and I tr-tried to help her! But... but...” His muzzle twisted sickly. “...so many entrails... I-I couldn't climb through them all! Oh goddess... my friends... all my dear, beloved friends... oh goddess!”
He wept openly.
Twilight looked at Spike.
Spike bit his lip, fidgeting openly.
After a sigh, the Princess of Friendship reached down and patted the soldier's withers reassuringly. “There there... we all know that you did your best...”
“I... I know that, Your Highness...” The soldier sniffled and shook. “I... I just want to make sure...”
“Yes? Make sure of what?”
“That... that nopony forgets that in Nineteen Ninety-Eight, the Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and he then plummeted sixteen feet through an announcer's table.” Upon finishing that, the soldier's eyes crossed, and he collapsed like a howling infant across the rubble, squeezing his helmet until it nearly crushed his own skull. “Aaaaaaaugh! I can't get it out of my head! I can't get it out of my head! Aaaaaaaaa-haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaughhh! Mommy! Mommmmmmmy!
Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie hung their heads.
Applejack and Rarity looked at the random families hobbling about, covered in ash and blood.
Twilight Sparkle stood above the hysterical soldier. She took one breath of the smokey air. Then a second. “Eh...” Her wings spread. “...it'll wear off.” She motioned to Spike, and the two took to the air. “Back to the school!”
Years later...
...in a tacky honeymoon suite.
“Ooomf!” Bon Bon fell back onto a gigantic, heart-shaped bed with thick velvet scarlet upholstery. “Heeheeheee...” She curled her forelimbs to her chest like the blushing bride that she was. “Wah... what are we going to do on the bed? Heeheeheehee!”
“Mmmmmmmm...” Lyra crawled up until she was practically hovering over her lover. “...pick a number. Any number.”
“Oh Lyra...”
Bon Bon thrust her head down like a cobra and began nibbling all around Bon Bon's neck and muzzle.
“Ohhhhhhhhh Lyraaaaaaaaaaa...” Bon Bon cooed, her palpitations sweatily increasing exponentially. “...I've waited so long for this. We've abstained so long for this moment!”
“I know, my love...” Lyra kissed-kissed-kissed all around her face and ears. “But no more waiting. You're mine now. All mine.”
“Oh... have your way with me... talk dirty to me!”
“Bon Bon...” Lyra growled and nibbled.
“Yes...?”
“My dearest Bon Bon...” Lyra huffed and licked and nuzzled.
“Yes...!!!”
Lyra looked her lover in the eyes. She smiled. She spoke above the saxophone music wafting gently from the record player on the far end of the suite. “Don't you ever forget that in Nineteen Ninety-Eight, the Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and he plummeted sixteen feet through the Spanish announcer's table.”
Bon Bon gazed back up at her gorgeous wife's face. “... … ...I want a divorce.”
Author's Note
