The Crusaders Save Hearth's Warming

Why hello there everypony, if you have a moment, I’d like to share a Hearth’s Warming tale with you all. A musical one if you will. We all know music and caroling is one of the biggest pieces that make up the holiday, however, in this story, one pony despised music so much that he put the whole spirit of Hearth’s Warming Eve in jeopardy. His name is Mister Hum Buck, a pretty fitting name if you ask me. He’s a stallion as cold as a winter’s night, and as prickly as a pine needle. And on this particular Hearth’s Warming, he devised something so horrible with the intent to ruin it all. That is, until he came across a trio of plucky, young fillies. But I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. Why don’t we just start from the beginning?

T’was a gleeful winter morning, and gusts of Hearth’s Warming spirit swept through the air. Ponies all throughout Ponyville were each finding ways to express such spirit. Through the decorations they hung, the hot cocoa they shared, or the gifts they wrapped. However, at the corner of everypony’s favorite sweet shop, three little fillies have set up their own way of expressing their holiday spirit. With a cardboard box as their stage, and three sheets of lyrics for them to follow, they’re just about ready to begin. But who are these giddy, young fillies, you might ask? Why, they’re none other than The Cutie Mark Crusaders. At least, that be the name of their ‘secret’ club.

"Are you girls sure this is a good idea? I mean, I’m not so sure if we’re cut out for caroling cutie marks." That would be Sweetie Belle. She can be a bit timid, and isn’t the most confident. But she has a kind heart, and is as sweet as the frosting atop a gingerbread cookie.

"I really think we should have practiced at least 'a little' before actually coming out here to sing." And here we have Scootaloo. Perhaps the rowdiest member of their group, and surely isn’t afraid to speak her mind. Which can lead them all into bouts of trouble from time to time.

"I’m tellin’ y’all, this is the perfect plan! After this, we’re sure to see those carolin’ cutie marks pop up on our flanks! And if we don’t, then this’ll be our practice before the real thing!" Then last, but most certainly not least, is Apple Bloom. Though she can tend to be a bit careless and restless, her heart is big, and is ready to put forth the effort into anything she wishes to accomplish. Together, not only do they share a bond as special as friendship, but they all share the same love and passion for this glorious holiday. Quite a promising group of foals, wouldn’t you say? Well, little did they know, their true test of holiday spirit was headed their way like a storm cloud over a flickering flame.

"Hey! You girls all set?" Pinkie Pie asked from the doorway.

"Sure are! Thanks again for letting us carol outside your bakery, Pinkie!" said Apple Bloom.

"Noooo problem, girls! Remember, if you get too cold, feel free to come inside for some fresh, steamy, hot cocoa! Haaaave fun!"

"Alright! Y’all ready to get this started?"

"Umm . . . Uhh . . . I-I don’t know," Sweetie Belle murmured.

"Yeah, umm . . . maaaybe?" said Scootaloo.

"Come on, y’all! Where’s yer Hearth’s Warmin’ spirit?” Apple Bloom asked.

"We’ve got the spirit, we’re just not sure if that’s what’s gonna help us sing."

"You won’t know if you don’t try! Y’all got yer lyrics ready?"

"Yeah," Scootaloo glumly held up her packet of lyrics.

"Right here," Sweetie Belle said without an ounce of confidence.

"Alright!" Apple Bloom cheered. "And a one, and a two, and a—"

And so, despite their doubts, they began to carol for all of Ponyville to hear. Sure, their pitch wasn’t perfect, and although they did have some trouble keeping in time, they attracted a few curious listeners regardless. There’s something about seeing such rosy-cheeked, ambitious youths giving it their all to carol for the love of the holiday that warms the heart of anypony who should come across them. Within moments, a few turned to many, and the confidence in themselves began to grow the more that came to listen. Certainly there’s nothing that could ruin such a beautiful moment.

"What exactly is going on here?! What is the meaning of all this commotion?"

Oh dear, I suppose I spoke a bit too soon. A stallion dressed in a black coat and top hat forced his way to the front of the crowd. With his head held high, and eyes that gave off a glare so disapproving, the ponies around him dared not to look his way. He walked up to the three, bewildered fillies, fixing his bow tie as he looked on most displeased.

"Well? Care to explain yourselves?" He asked again rather impatiently.

"Nothin’ Mister. Just some good ol’ carolin’ to get every pony in the Hearth’s Warmin' Eve spirit!" Apple Bloom kindly explained.

"Well, now, isn’t that just precious? What a wonderful thing to do."

"Oh, well, thanks Mister! Did you like it?" Sweetie Belle asked curiously.

"Did I like it? Oh, darling, I didn’t just like it."

"Then you loved it?" Scootaloo asked.

"Oh, no, not at all. In fact, I found it to be quite dreadful." The fillies’ hearts sunk like anchors to the bottom of the sea. The crowd gasped, perplexed by the stallion’s blunt and hurtful remark. "All three of you are off key, not keeping in time with one another, and are clearly wasting your time. Do any of you even know how to keep a rhythm? If I were you, I’d go back to hoof ball, or whatever it is you children do with your spare time these days. Anything other than this."

Poor Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle hung their heads in sorrow and shame, but Scootaloo wasn’t ready to allow this heartless heathen to berate her friends and let him get away with it, and so, she rightfully protested. "Hey! What’s your problem? Who even are you anyway, some lousy caroling critic?"

"Who am I? Why my name is Hum Buck--Mister Hum Buck--and my 'problem' is that you fillies need to take your atrocious singing elsewhere. Preferably somewhere with thick walls so that none of it can be heard."

"O-Oh yeah? And what if we don’t?" Apple Bloom added.

"Well, if that isn’t enough to drive you away, then you’ll surely be embarrassed to be singing the wrong lyrics."

"B-but, they’re not wrong," said Sweetie Belle.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! Take a look for yourself!" Scootaloo demanded.

All three of them angrily held out their lyric sheets for Mister Hum Buck to see, and he snatched them out from their grasp so as to get a closer look.

"Oh, I suppose they are."

With a filthy grin, Mister Hum Buck crumpled up the sheets into one large ball, then dropped it to the ground into a melted puddle of slush and ice. He stomped on it relentlessly, and splashed the icy cold water onto the Crusaders, which sent chills up their spines. "My mistake. Carry on then," Hum Buck smirked. "That is, as long as you know all the lyrics by heart. Which I’m assuming you don’t."

Mister Hum Buck laughed his way through the crowd, leaving the three fillies saddened and broken-hearted. The crowd did their best to reassure and cheer them up with encouragement and pats on their heads, but it just wasn’t enough to bring back their spirits. The townsponies dispersed, and the Crusaders began to deliberate.

"I told you we should've practiced," Scootaloo commented.

"Practice or no practice, I got a feelin’ that Mister Hum Buck would’a shut us down no matter what!" Apple Bloom suggested.

"So, does this mean we’re not getting our caroling cutie marks?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Never mind the cutie marks! We gotta find out what this fella’s deal is, and why he’s so grumpy."

"I think he was a little more than just grumpy, Apple Bloom," Scootaloo sarcastically assured.

"Either way, ain’t you girls at least curious?"

"Umm, not really."

"I mean, maybe we should," Sweetie Belle pondered.

"Then come on, let’s follow ‘em!" Apple Bloom urged.

"Ugh, seriously?" Scootaloo groaned.

And off they went, following Mister Hum Buck, but kept a safe distance as to not be spotted. They observed as he trudged through town, leaving a trail of dismay in his wake. He cantered to the second-hoof shop, intrigued by the record player spouting a famous Hearth’s Warming tune.

"Good morning, sir!" The salespony greeted. "See anything you like?

"Hmm, not at all," said Hum Buck.

"Well, how’s about this here record player? It’d make a nice addition to any household!"

"I have no use for it. However, how much for the record it’s playing?"

"Oh! Well, if it’s just the record you’re after, I’ll give it to ya for free! You just can’t put a price on Hearth’s Warming, am I right?"

"Oh, certainly."

The cheerful salespony gave Mister Hum Buck the record, and simply without warning, he dropped it to the ground, and shattered it with one forceful stomp. The salespony’s jaw dropped, along with the Cutie Mark Crusaders' who had also witnessed the event.

"I wouldn’t have put a price on it either," said Hum Buck. "It’s most definitely worth nothing."

And without a farewell or goodbye, Mister Hum Buck moved on, as the salespony looked down sorrowfully at the pieces he left behind. He then came across a little workshop tucked away from public eye. One with no fancy sign or eye-catching coat of paint, but a happy-go-lucky mare who greeted him instantly.

"Hello there, sir! Care to stop by? I’ve got musical instruments of all sorts crafted by hoof!" She said with a big smile.

"Instruments you say?" Hum Buck inquired.

"That’s right! Made from scratch, and they sound wonderful! Care to take a listen?"

"Not quite."

"Oh, w-well, I also take commissions! You name the instrument, and I’ll put my hooves to work for you! It’ll be done before you know it!"

"Madam, tell me, just how is business for you?"

"Uhh, well, sad to say it’s pretty slow. The last customer I had was about . . . w-weeks ago."

"And what does that tell you, my dear?"

"S-Sure, business could be better, but this is a passion of mine. I-I just can’t let it go."

"Perhaps you should reconsider. If I were you, I’d close this hopeless shop down for good, and put my hooves to better use. Try crafting things more worthwhile than these ugly, petty instruments."

The mare’s heart broke in two, and she turned away to hide the tears that began to stream down her face. Mister Hum Buck, however, paid her no mind, and continued his brisk walk through town.

"This guy’s one big jerk! I say we help the ponies he’s walking all over instead!" Scootaloo suggested.

"We can’t! Not yet! If we don’t put a stop to him first, then he’ll just keep on makin’ everypony else feel miserable!" Apple Bloom informed.

"Apple Bloom’s right," Sweetie Belle agreed. "He’ll make every Hearth’s Warming a disaster if we don’t do something."

"Ugh, fine. I guess you’re right," Scootaloo conceded.

"Now, come on! We can’t lose ‘em!" Apple Bloom urged them once more.

The three fillies rushed onward to find that Mister Hum Buck had met another group of young, carefree carolers. He plugged his ears, and stopped them in the middle of their song. The carolers looked up at him in fear and bewilderment as he unleashed a storm of animosity.

"I was wondering why my head was pounding! Out of tune, the lot of you! I hope you can get a refund from whatever class taught you to sing. Seems it was a waste if you ask me." The carolers frowned, closed their books of songs, and departed with their heads hung low and spirits crushed. "Good riddance! Now, go do something productive!"

The townsponies gawked and glared at Mister Hum Buck, and as heartless as he was, he cared not for how they perceived him. To him, they were invisible, as if the only thing that mattered in the world was him and his word. Further along the path, Mister Hum Buck was approached by an exhilarated pony carrying a stack of flyers.

"Excuse me, sir. Have you heard?" The townspony asked.

"That depends. If you mean all the blasted caroling, then yes, I’ve had my fair share," said Hum Buck.

"Well, if you liked that, then you’re gonna love the news! Ponyville is being paid a visit by The Canterlot Choir this Hearth’s Warming Eve!"

"The Canterlot Choir, you say?"

"That’s right! Only the most talented group of angelic of voices in Equestria, and to think they’re actually coming down here to Ponyville! Isn’t it exciting? Here, have a flyer!"

"Hmm. . . This is exciting indeed. Why don’t you go and keep spreading the word. Everypony deserves to know of this immediately."

"You betcha!"

"In the meantime, I have much planning to do."

A dubious, evil grin spread across Mister Hum Buck’s face, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders looked to each other in dire dismay. They could tell by the sound of it, Mister Hum Buck was brewing up a plan. Thankfully, their bravery and determination urged them to press on and find out more. Apple Bloom and her friends followed Mister Hum Buck all the way back to his lonely, little cottage nestled within the outskirts of the Everfree Forest. It’s so far away from the rest of the town, there's no way anypony would know it was even here. But, I suppose that was most likely the intent. Mister Hum Buck unlocked and entered his cottage, and the fillies hid themselves behind a bush to brew a plan of their own.

"This is where he lives?" Scootaloo asked. "Ugh, place gives me the chills, and don’t say—"

"Because it’s cold, duh!" Sweetie Belle seized the opportunity.

"I was hoping you wouldn’t say it."

"Come on, girls. We gotta go see what he’s up to!" said Apple Bloom.

"I’ve got a bad feeling about this." The fillies approached the window, but it was just too high for them to see what was going on inside. "Well, now what?"

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked to each other, then back at Scootaloo, who was then struck with the realization of exactly what they had in mind. The two of them climbed up onto Scootaloo’s shoulders, who clearly struggled to handle both their weight, but they were finally able to catch a glimpse of the inside of Mister Hum Buck’s cottage.

"Humph, The Canterlot Choir, coming to Ponyville to fill the streets with even more disgusting, pathetic sounds to get the townsponies all giddy with child-like excitement. Well, not if I have anything to say about it!" Hum Buck declared. He sat at his desk, and brought out a tall stack of paper along with his feather pen and inkwell. "I’ll make sure this concert never makes its way to Ponyville, and I know just how to do it!" He dipped his pen in the ink, and scrawled away onto the paper.

"Uh . . . girls?" Scootaloo whispered, to which both Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle put their hooves to their mouths with a shush.

"Quiet Scoot! He’ll hear us!" Apple Bloom warned.

"Remember that bad feeling I had? Well, it’s even worse now, and it’s all in my shoulders. Wo-wo-wo-woah!" Scootaloo’s legs gave out, and they all came crashing down with a loud ruckus. Drawn by the noise, Mister Hum Buck jumped out from his seat, and opened up his window to investigate. However, he found nothing but the snow surrounding his home. He shrugged off the strange occurrence, and returned to his desk. The Crusaders popped their heads up from the snow, and Scootaloo looked to her friends with a shameful smile as they gave her looks of disappointment. "He-heh, so what did you guys hear?"

"Apparently he’s gonna stop the big choir concert that’s comin’ to town! I don’t know how, but we have to stop him! Crusaders, got any ideas?"

"I say we break inside, and we take it from there. It’s three on one, and he don’t look so tough!"

"Scootaloo, no offense, but that’s a horrible idea."

"What else are we going to do? Carol outside his house? You saw how it went last time we tried that."

"There’s gotta be somethin' we can do."

"But what?" Sweetie Belle asked.

So, the three of them put their heads together, and devised the only plan that seemed to make the most sense. If he despised the holiday so much, then they were going to show him all the things that they themselves enjoyed the most about it. They went to work immediately, and with high hopes.

Scootaloo’s idea was to leave a gift for Mister Hum Buck right at his doorstep. They set the wrapped box near his door, gave one quick knock, and retreated back to their bush to watch from a distance. Mister Hum Buck opened his door, baffled by the sight of the gift. He picked it up, and inspected it for any sign of where it may have come from.

"What a great idea to give Hum Buck a gift, Scoot!" Apple Bloom complimented. "What’cha get ‘em?"

"Yeah, what actually did you get for him?" Sweetie Belle also inquired.

"Oh, I was supposed to put something in it? I thought you guys were gonna do that!" Scootaloo accused.

Mister Hum Buck opened the gift, displeased to find it completely empty. He grumbled as he crumpled the box and tossed it into the silver trash can nearby. Scootaloo looked to her friends and innocently shrugged, which led them to smack their hooves on their foreheads.

Sweetie Belle’s idea was to share a sweet, hot cup of Pinkie Pie’s famous cocoa always topped with a generous amount of mini marshmallows. They all galloped to Sugarcube Corner and back with a fresh cup, set it outside the door, gave one quick knock, and retreated back to their bush. Mister Hum Buck opened his door, and was instantly intrigued by the sweet aroma that overwhelmed his senses. He lifted the cup, and inspected it to determine just what exactly it is.

"No pony can resist the holiday tradition of hot cocoa! He’s sure to fall under its spell once he takes a sip!" Sweetie Belle assured.

"I’ll say! Pinkie Pie makes the best cocoa in town! It’s like the spirit of Hearth’s Warming in a warm cup!" Apple Bloom added.

"I second that," Scootaloo agreed.

Mister Hum Buck then realized what was in the cup, and was disgusted.

"Ugh! Hot chocolate? I’m allergic to chocolate," Hum Buck revolted. He then thrust the cup into the same silver can where he tossed the empty gift, which left the Crusaders baffled.

"Aw come on! He could’ve at least left it for us!" Scootaloo moaned.

"Allergic, huh? What are the odds of that?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Alright, y’all. I got one more plan, and if this don’t work, I’m not too sure what will," said Apple Bloom.

Apple Bloom’s idea was to decorate Mister Hum Buck’s cottage top to bottom with a slew of lights, wreathes, signs and statues they each borrowed from their own homes. They gave one more quick knock at his door, then dashed back behind their bush. Furious and impatient, Mister Hum Buck burst through his door, and scanned his yard for whoever has been knocking.

"Who’s out there?! I’ve had enough of this pestering!" Hum Buck fumed.

"Alright girls, now!" Apple Bloom commanded.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo connected a pair of electrical plugs with wires that led all the way back to Hum Buck’s cottage, and the decorations lit up with an array of splendorous colors.

"What in the. . ?"

Mister Hum Buck used his hoof to block the intense light and flashing colors, and had noticed the wire on the ground. He followed the lead all the way to the bush, and discovered the three fillies hidden behind it. Upon being spotted, the crusaders smiled nervously, and even chuckled to try and diffuse the situation.

"H-Howdy, M-Mister Hum Buck!" Apple Bloom nervously greeted.

"You uh . . . feeling the holiday spirit yet?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"You owe us a cup of cocoa by the way," Scootaloo added.

"Scoot!" Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle yelled in unison.

"What? What I say?"

"So, it was you three who’ve been knocking at my door. May I ask why you’ve all put on this horrible display?" Hum Buck asked.

"W-We did it because … we uhh…" Sweetie Belle tried to explain.

"We were hoping you’d stop being a big jerk to every pony," Scootaloo said bluntly. Both Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle covered Scootaloo’s mouth to keep her from digging the whole they were already in even deeper, but it mattered not.

"A jerk, eh?" Hum Buck asked. "Is that the way you see it? All because I exposed your hideous display of caroling for the sham that it was? That there’s not a spec of vocal talent in any of you? Well, guess what, dear children? Sometimes the truth can be painful, so I suggest you three get over it, and do something more productive with your time!"

Mister Hum Buck huffed and sneered as he turned his back to them. He walked toward his cottage, and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were both too afraid to pursue a retort. But Apple Bloom stood up, and called out to Mister Hum Buck one last time.

"Mister Hum Buck! Why do you hate Hearth’s Warming so much?" she asked.

Hum Buck stopped in his tracks, and returned to the fillies. Apple Bloom almost felt she had made a horrible mistake, but there was no turning back. "You all think I just hate Hearth’s Warming?" Hum Buck asked. "Why, you three truly don’t understand. Yes, I’m not quite fond of the holiday at all, but it’s all due to the dreadful, awful music and caroling that comes with it! Take that away, and this would be a much more enjoyable time of year."

"Then . . . why do you hate the music so much?"

"Yeah, it’s one of the best things about Hearth’s Warming!" Sweetie Belle added.

"You children have been brainwashed your whole lives, haven’t you?" Hum Buck asked. "Your parents must’ve told you that anything and everything you do is fantastic, as long as you give it your best. When I was your age, I was once fed the same filthy lies. I thought I could sing just as you did, so of course, my parents encouraged me to join the Ponyville Youth Choir."

"You were part of the choir?" Scootaloo asked in disbelief.

"Yes, indeed."

"What happened?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Well, my parents knew that singing had been a passion of mine. So, naturally, they thought the choir would have been the perfect place for me. A chance to make friends, and express myself. Instead, I ended up learning a valuable lesson during my time there. You see, my director was a very honest mare, and she yearned for perfection. If one of us was off-key, she would not sugar coat it. We were all under constant judgement, but none were judged as harshly as me. I had begun to feel that there was nothing I could do to prove to her that I had what it takes."

"So, then what did you do?"

"Did you prove her wrong?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"You quit, right?" Scootaloo assumed.

"Neither. Hearth’s Warming Eve was just around the corner, and our director had one, big show planned to put on for the town. I saw it as my chance to finally show her what I could do. I had hoped that the holiday spirit would be enough to maybe help me prove my worth. It was the first day of rehearsal, and in the end, my last day in the choir. We all gathered in the auditorium, and not moments after we had begun to sing, she silenced us. She escorted me out of the auditorium, looked to me, and gave me the most important piece of advice I give to you now."

"W-What’s that?" Apple Bloom asked.

Mister Hum Buck leaned in, and glared at all three of them. "Don’t waste your time pursuing a dream you have no business chasing."

"What? That can’t be right!" Sweetie Belle questioned.

"Oh yes, my dears, and it’s that very advice that’s helped me through the years. Certainly no nonsense like ‘holiday spirit’ and whatnot. What a foolish child I was, and I'd hate for you three to make a similar mistake."

"Apple Bloom?! Is that you?" a voice called out.

"Sweetie Belle! Just what are you and your friends doing here?" asked another.

The three fillies turned to see none other than their sisters who just so happened to be passing by. Applejack and Rarity approached them, baffled to find them at a stranger’s cottage. Not only that, but a stranger’s cottage decorated with awfully familiar-looking decorations that had mysteriously gone missing from their own homes.

"What in tarnation’s goin’ on here? Ain’t those signs the same ones I stood up in our yard?" Applejack asked.

"And aren’t those the same lights I had hung up around my boutique?!" Rarity gasped.

Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle shrugged and chuckled out of nervousness, unable to find the words to help wiggle them out of the predicament they had just found themselves in. Mister Hum Buck, however, smirked with delight.

"Do these children belong to you two?" Hum Buck asked.

"Yes, they do." Applejack admitted.

"Then I’ll have you know these three have been following me around town, and have been hanging around my yard all afternoon!"

"That’s not true!" Sweetie Belle denied.

"I mean, it kind of is," Scootaloo blurted.

"Scootaloo!" both Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle shouted.

"Not only that," Hum Buck continued, "but they’ve proven to be rather bothersome with their constant pranking. Knocking on my door and hiding behind bushes, and now this! To think all I wanted to do was enjoy a quiet day all to myself. Well, thanks to them, that’s ruined now."

"Oh, I do apologize! Please, allow me to take these decorations down, and we’ll be out of your mane," said Rarity.

"Thank you." Mister Hum Buck gave the crusaders one last smug glance before he headed back into his cottage. Rarity’s magic took down the décor from Mister Hum Buck’s cottage in seconds, and she marched angrily toward Sweetie Belle.

"Come, Sweetie Belle. You’re staying inside for the rest of the day."

"But Rarity!" Sweetie Belle whined.

"No buts! Now, let’s go. Scootaloo, you too. I’ll take you back to your Aunt. I’m sure she’ll love hearing about this as well."

"Oh boy . . ." said Scootaloo with a sigh.

All that were left were Apple Bloom and Applejack, who looked none too happy to learn of what her little sister had done. Apple Bloom dug her hoof into the snow, speechless and ashamed.

"What’s the matter with you, Apple Bloom?" Applejack asked. "Botherin’ this poor stallion with yer friends. Haven’t I told you pullin’ pranks on strangers ain’t right? Sure a prank between friends is fine every now and again, but not on some poor stranger."

"But Applejack, you don’t understand!" Apple Bloom pressed.

"Then please, help me understand."

"He. . ! He. . ."

"He what?"

Apple Bloom paused, and thought to herself. Something about Mister Hum Buck’s words of advice seemed to have stuck with her, and had changed her perspective over the whole situation. Her drive to argue back diminished, and a sense of defeat washed over her. She kept her mouth shut, and lowered her head in shame.

"Come on, you can tell me what’s on yer mind when we get home," said Applejack as she guided Apple Bloom back into town.

Mister Hum Buck watched from his window as the fillies were guided away from his cottage, and rubbed his hooves together as he relished in his victory. "Finally, now that those blasted children are out of my way, I can get back to work," he said. Mister Hum Buck happily sunk into his chair, grabbed his quill, and continued to write. Page after page, his pile of written letters had grown, and his plot nearing its completion. "One letter from ‘every’ pony in Ponyville should do the trick! They all must appear different, with different writing and different names! One from Lyra Heartstrings, one from Miss Cheerilee, one from Mister Cake, one from Misses Cake--oh, this plan can’t possibly fail! Once the Canterlot Choir reads all the hate and disdain from the ponies of Ponyville, they’ll feel obligated to cancel their concert! And what will Ponyville do once they hear the news, and their Hearth’s Warming spirit is crushed? Hmm, I’m not quite sure, but I cannot wait to find out!"

Carefully and meticulously, he folded up some letters and stuffed them into envelopes, others he rolled up and tied with string. All to sell the idea that each and every letter had been written by somepony other than him. Hours went by as he filled his bag to the brim with letters until he was satisfied. He stuffed so many inside that he could barely keep the bag sealed. On a race against time, Mister Hum Buck grabbed his bag, and headed out into the cold. Whilst our brave, plucky crusaders are nowhere to be seen.