Mothball’s First Sleepover
Mothball’s First Sleepover
After knocking a few times, Mothball stared endlessly at the door in front of him. He was waiting for something to happen, anything. Well, he was mostly waiting for Cinnamon Stick to open up and give him permission to come inside. Why? Well, Cinnamon Stick called it a “sleepover.”
The former prince of changelings actually knew what a sleepover was… kind of. The thing about it was that he’s never actually been to one in his life. So here he was, waiting at the door, intrigued to see what Cinnamon Stick and Thunder Dash had in store for him.
Soon, the door creaked open, and a brown earth pony with a short black mane appeared in the doorway. “Hey Mothy, you ready?” he asked.
“Cinnamon Stick!” Mothball briefly captured the earth pony in an excited embrace. “Where’s Thunder?”
“He’s in my room. He’ll probably be downstairs once dinner is ready,” he explained.
“Okay.” Mothball picked his green saddlebag off the ground and put it on his back. Upon trotting inside, he took the moment to gaze at the interior of the building. Cinnamon’s house has a nice homey feel to it, he thought with a content chuckle. It’s… kinda better than the hive, actually. No, scratch that, it’s way better.
Mothball felt something gaze his leg, and he looked down to see a little orange colt crawling on the floor. One with a dragon tail and bright green dragon-like eyes. Cinnamon Stick chuckled and picked him up. “Heh. Hey there, Applespike.”
The baby giggled and snorted a bit of smoke out at his brother, before sucking on his own little forehoof. Cinnamon Stick nuzzled him with a smile and trotted over to a couch, placing him down on it. He and Mothball looked to see a sky blue pegasus with a black mane that had streaks of blue and purple, and alongside him was a pile of comic books, one of which he was currently reading.
“Hey Thunder,” Mothball greeted. “I thought you were hanging upstairs in Cinnamon Stick’s room?”
“Got bored,” Thunder replied, turning a page in the comic book. “You took forever,” he then said to Mothball.
“Thunder, Mothball got here only twenty minutes after you did,” Cinnamon Stick said, seating himself next to the pegasus.
“That long?” Mothball questioned in disbelief.
Cinnamon Stick rolled his eyes. “Anyway…”
Applespike looked around, and his curious green eyes fell on the pile of comic books that were scattered across the couch. He reached for one curiously, gently chewing on it with his tiny little dragon teeth.
Thunder’s eyes widened in horror. “Hey! Don’t eat that!” he exclaimed.
“Applespike! No!” Cinnamon Stick picked up his brother, carefully pulling the comic book out of his rather weak grasp. “That’s not for eating!”
“Baba?” Applespike asked, waving his hooves around. Cinnamon Stick shook his head no, and the young baby began to pout and whine.
“Aw, cheer up, lil’ Spikey.” The earth pony tried to rock the baby back and forth. “Aww, come on, it’s okay, I’ll get you something else to eat.”
Another earth pony came into the room. “Hey, brother. What’s goin’ on?”
“Oh, Cinnamon Roll, great. Can you take Applespike? Us boys have some stuff to do.”
“Oh uh, sure thing. Come here, lil’ Spikey.” She took the wailing dragon-pony into her hooves. “He’ll probably feel better after eating a few crushed gems.”
“Thanks sis. You’re the best.” Cinnamon Stick smiled gratefully.
“I know I am.” Cinnamon Roll grinned cheekily, taking the colt to the kitchen table.
“Thank Celestia, that’s taken care of…” Thunder scooped up his comics. “I’ve been wanting to keep these in mint condition… I can’t bear to imagine having a baby dragon pony hybrid burp fire on them.”
“Are they valuable?” Mothball inquired.
“Of course they are!” Thunder answered. “My mom read stuff like these before we were born!”
“That’s… cool,” the changeling complimented.
“Oh boys!”
They looked over the source of the voice. Applejack was there, accompanied by her husband, Spike.
“Hey Mom, hey Dad.” Cinnamon Stick grinned, hopping off the couch. “Is dinner ready yet?”
“Heh, just about,” Spike answered, before glancing at the two guests of honor. “You boys ready for dinner?”
“Heck yeah!” Thunder nodded, flapping his wings and darting to the table. Mothball and Cinnamon Stick chuckled and followed him, seating themselves.
Spike and Applejack followed them, going to get the food.
“So! What are we having, Aunt AJ?” Thunder asked, lightly drumming his hooves on the table. “We’re starving, aren’t we, boys?”
Applejack smiled. “Well, I was thinking we’d make somethin’ special for this occasion. After all, it’s Mothball’s first sleepover ain’t it?”
Mothball nodded with a polite smile. “Yes ma’am, it is.”
“Heheh, ya don’t have to call me ma’am, ya know.”
“O-Okay…” He lowered his ears, grinning sheepishly.
“Anyway,” Applejack continued to speak. “For the special occasion, we made—”
“Hay burgers and apple cider?!” Thunder suddenly leaned forward in his seat, grinning eagerly and licking his lips.
The orange mare stared awkwardly. “...I was gonna say ‘casserole and asparagus’... but we still have cider.”
“Oh…” Thunder sat back.
Applejack rolled her eyes as she and Spike began serving everyone at the table. “Your family and mah cider. What’s next, askin’ for pie?”
“Pfft. Pretty sure that’s my dad’s job…” Thunder answered with a snicker.
Spike chuckled as he set a plate down in front of him. “You’re not wrong, Thunder.”
Mothball watched as a plate of food was placed in front of him. Cinnamon Stick looked over. “Go ahead,” he said. “Try some of it.”
“O-Okay…” the changeling obliged. “Huh. Pretty good,” he said after swallowing his food.
“Really?” Thunder sniffed it, trying a bite of casserole. “Not bad…”
Applejack grinned. “See? I knew you boys would like it.”
Thunder shrugged, continuing to eat.
“So…” Mothball began, glancing at both Cinnamon Stick and Thunder. “You guys have had sleepovers before?”
“A few.” Thunder glanced back. “It was always just the two of us, though.”
“But now you’re here!” Cinnamon Stick added, grinning.
“And we’re all sleeping over at Cinnamon Stick’s… again,” Thunder groaned, laying the side of his head against the table. “Why couldn’t we hang out at my house for once?”
“Because I’d fall through the floor of your place…” Cinnamon Stick said. “I can’t walk on clouds, remember?”
“I know! I’m just saying…” the pegasus huffed.
Mothball giggled slightly. Somehow, he knew he was gonna like it here.
“Alright, boys. It’s time for bed.”
The trio looked over. For the past few hours, they had been talking about their lives, chatting about memories of the past, and even reading some of Thunder’s comic books.
“Hang on, dad,” Cinnamon Stick said while lying on his bed. “Just give us a minute… or sixty.”
“Heh, sorry kiddo, time for bed means lights out,” Spike replied.
The trio sighed in defeat. “Okay, Dad...” Cinnamon Stick mumbled lowly.
“Alright, goodnight boys.” Spike smiled at them.
“Goodnight!” the three of them said. Spike then closed the door, and they heard him leaving.
Mothball turned his head towards Thunder, who was taking a large cylinder-shaped object out of his blue saddlebags, unrolling it and spreading it out evenly on the floor. He took out a pillow and put it down as well.
The changeling walked over to the pegasus curiously. “Whatcha got there?”
“It’s called a sleeping bag.”
Mothball tilted his head. “A bag that’s asleep…?” he guessed cluelessly.
“No, you sleep in it.” Thunder got inside his sleeping bag to demonstrate, laying his head against the pillow. “See?”
“Oh…” Mothball blushed sheepishly. “Right. Silly me.”
“Didn’t you bring one, Mothy?” Cinnamon Stick questioned, sitting up on his bed.
“Uh… not exactly…” He looked down.
“Oh. Don’t worry, I have some extra blankets and pillows you can use for the night.” Cinnamon Stick got up and reached under his bed, pulling out a stack of pillows and neatly folded quilts.
“Thanks Cinnamon Stick.” Mothball smiled and took one of each, laying down on the floor.
“No problem, Mothy. You comfortable?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Alright, let me get this straight…” Thunder began to speak. “You’re saying that even though you’re a changeling and you’ve never been to a sleepover in your entire life until now, you know what a sleepover is?”
“Well, not completely. I mean, I have some little idea about what it is…”
“How much of an idea?” Thunder asked blankly.
“I dunno. All I know about sleepovers is the ‘going over to someone else’s place and staying there overnight’ part. That and I remember looking through Screwball’s bedroom window one night and just seeing a bunch of her friends sleeping in there—” Mothball began.
“Psh. That’s a girls’ sleepover.” Thunder pointed out, cutting him off.
“Aaaand did you say you were looking through her bedroom window? At night?” Cinnamon Stick asked.
Mothball blushed. “Hey! I-It wasn’t recently!”
Thunder smirked. “Suuure.”
“Hmph. Whatever, Thunder.” Mothball laid down. Cinnamon Stick sat on the floor next to him.
“Whaaaat?” Thunder merely chuckled. “I was just saying…”
Mothball giggled a little. “What now?”
“Dunno… what time is it anyway? I made a bet with Lightning that I could stay up till four in the morning!” Thunder exclaimed.
“Why would you do that?” Mothball looked at him.
“Why not?”
“...Fair enough, I guess. I was never allowed to do that though. Mother kept saying that I had to be in bed by seven o’ clock.” Mothball put a hoof to his chin. “Or was it eight o’ clock?”
“Geez…” Cinnamon Stick shook his head sympathetically.
“That and she kept waking me up just to make me practice my shapeshifting…”
“Man… that stinks…” Thunder sighed.
“It did…” Mothball sighed as well, cushioning the back of his head with his forelegs.
“Well, you’re not there anymore.” Cinnamon Stick calmly put a hoof on his shoulder.
“Eh, he’s right.” Thunder shrugged.
Mothball smiled at them both. “Heh. Thanks guys. So uh… what do you two usually do?”
“Uh…” Cinnamon looked to Thunder. “We uh…”
“We…”
As the two struggled to think of something, Mothball felt himself dozing off a little, his eyelids getting heavier as the seconds passed.
“Mothball, come on! You can’t be tired already!” Thunder grabbed him and shook him by the shoulders.
Mothball yelped and shook his head. “Sorry guys…”
“No sweat, Mothy.” Thunder clapped him on the back, making him jump a bit. “Just try to stay awake for a while longer, okay?”
“Heh… okay… I’ll try, I guess.”
“Good, good. Now who else is up for actually doing something?”
“Me.” Cinnamon replied, raising a hoof. Mothball nodded in agreement.
“Hm… let’s see… Cinnamon Stick, what you got?”
“Um…” Cinnamon Stick reached under his bed, trying to stick his head underneath it so he could look for something. “Let’s see here…”
“See any board games?”
“Chess perhaps?” Mothball suggested.
Thunder looked at him. “Chess?” he uttered, only to earn a shrug from the changeling.
“What? Screwy taught me!”
“Okay…”
“It’s so dark under here!” They heard Cinnamon Stick’s muffled voice. “Okay, I think I feel a box!”
“About time!” Thunder got up on his hooves. “What is it?!”
Thud!
“Ow!”
They both turned to the earth pony, who was rubbing his head with a hoof. “I’m good!” Cinnamon Stick said as he crawled back out from under the bed, holding a box. “Got it!”
“Got what?! What’s inside?!”
“Uh…” Cinnamon Stick turned the box over, reading the contents. “It’s checkers.”
“Bo-ring!” Thunder yawned.
“Aw Thunder, it’s not that boring!”
Then they both heard a snore. They turned to see Mothball slouching over on his haunches, his eyelids drooping.
“Ha! See? Mothball agrees with me!” Thunder boasted proudly.
Cinnamon Stick facehoofed. “Mothball! Get up!” He picked up a pillow in his mouth and threw it.
“Gah!” Mothball yelped as the pillow hit him in the face. He sat up and shook his head, rubbing his temple with a hoof. “Huh? Wha?”
“Come on, buddy, you were supposed to agree with me that checkers is boring!” Thunder said.
“Checkers? What about checkers? I uh, actually wanna play checkers.”
Thunder’s jaw dropped. “Did… did you just—”
“Heheh. See Thunder?”
“I-buh-wha-why?!” He gave a defeated sigh. “Fine, checkers it is,” he murmured.
“Alright then… wait, how do you play again?” Mothball blinked.
Cinnamon Stick smiled and set the box down, opening it up. “Me and Thunder are going first. Watch and learn, Mothy.”
“Okay.”
“Heh, yeah. And watch as I win on my first try,” Thunder said with an eager grin.
“I thought you were only good at physical sports.” Cinnamon Stick remarked.
“Of course I am! I mean—” the pegasus stuttered out.
Cinnamon Stick laughed, setting up the pieces. Thunder eventually sighed and chuckled along with him. “Okay, okay, let’s play.”
“Okay.”
They finished setting the game up, and Cinnamon Stick made the first move. He pushed his red piece to another square with his hoof.
Thunder pushed a black piece forwards. “You watching this, Mothball?”
“Yep.”
The two ponies continued their game. They went back and forth, taking each other’s pieces.
Mothball was determined to keep his eyelids afloat during the entire process. He watched them diligently.
“Ha! I won!”
“What?!” Thunder gasped. “Aw, I was so close!”
Cinnamon Stick folded his forelegs and smirked. “Alright Mothy, you wanna give it a—Mothy?”
Mothball was flopped over, sleeping.
Thunder groaned. “Again?”
Cinnamon Stick grabbed another pillow, tossing it. This time, however, he didn’t budge. He merely grabbed hold of the pillow and cuddled against it. Thunder squinted, tossing a second pillow, then a third, followed by a fourth. No such luck.
“Dang it…” the earth pony grumbled, plopping down on his rump in defeat. Suddenly, an idea took seed in his mind. “Psst. Hey… Thunder,” he whispered with a mischievous grin.
“What?”
“Put your wing out for a moment. I have a plan.”
Thunder stared in confusion, before stretching his wing and displaying his many sky blue feathers. “What are you—ow!”
“Shhh…” Cinnamon Stick shushed him, grinning and waving the feather he yanked out. He then snuck over to Mothball, who flipped over onto his back, mumbling. Cinnamon Stick chuckled and reached out with the feather, testing it out on Mothball’s belly.
“Heheh…” Mothball giggled, waving a hoof around. Cinnamon Stick grinned and trailed it down his belly. “Heheh… tickles…”
“Come on, wake up, Mothball.” The earth pony brought the feather to his side.
“Ehehehe… heheh.”
Cinnamon Stick sighed, then walked to Mothball’s hind legs, trailing the feather up and down the sole of one of his back hooves.
The changeling’s muzzle wrinkled as he tried to hold in his giggles, only to burst out laughing as Cinnamon Stick continued tickling his hooves. He squirmed, giggling like mad. “Ahahahaha! Okay, I’m up, I’m up!”
“Good.” Cinnamon Stick spat the feather out. Mothball sat up, still giggling.
“Heheh. Meanie,” he said playfully. Cinnamon Stick shrugged.
They both looked at Thunder, who stared back blankly. “What?”
“Now what?”
“Uh…” Mothball scratched his head. Thunder rubbed his chin.
“What does Screwy usually do?” the changeling asked.
“When she and the girls have sleepovers?” Thunder snickered. “Mothball, this is different.”
“It’s worth a try.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I remember Screwball telling me about some sort of dare game.”
“Pfft. Truth or dare?” Thunder bit back a laugh. “That is so grade school.”
“Oh… I uh, never tried it though.” Mothball insisted.
“Yeah, come on, Thunder buddy,” Cinnamon Stick said in agreement. “We’ll make it fun!”
“Hmph.” Thunder bit his lip. “Not gonna do it.”
“Then I guess you’re… a chicken,” Cinnamon Stick said, grinning.
“Am not!”
“But you won’t play a simple game like Truth or Dare?” Cinnamon Stick wrapped a hoof around the pegasus. “I mean, it’s Mothball’s first sleepover…”
“So?”
“So, he suggested it, and it’s his first sleepover, so you have to do it for him.”
“What?! B-But this is your room! Your house!”
“Yes, yes it is, but—”
“Hang on, Cinnamon Stick… I got this,” Mothball chuckled, trotting up to the pegasus. “You’ve left me no choice, Thunder.”
Thunder backed away from him. “What’s that supposed to—”
“Pleeeeeeeaaaaase?”
“Gah! Wha-what are you doing?!”
Mothball kept pouting. “Pweeeeeeaaase Thunder?” he said, trying to make his eyes look as big as possible.
“Ah, Mothball, no…”
“Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaseeeeee?”
“N-Not the puppy dog eyes! Please! Ugh!” Thunder whined, before sighing in defeat. “Okay, fine! Sheesh, when did Screwball teach you how to do that?”
“Yes!!” Mothball grinned. “Heh, third time’s a charm.”
Cinnamon Stick walked up. “It took three tries? Man, Thunder really is tough…”
“Thank you very much…” the pegasus mumbled.
“Heh, come on. How do we play this anyway?” Mothball said.
“One of us starts by asking someone else ‘truth or dare’. They have to pick one of the two and answer the question asked for truth or do whatever challenge is posed for dare,” Cinnamon Stick replied. “Makes sense, right?”
“Mhm. I guess.” Mothball chuckled.
“Alright, Thunder and I will start, to demonstrate.” Cinnamon Stick turned to his fellow pegasus. “Thunder, truth or dare?”
“Uh… truth.”
“Hm… how do you really feel about my cousin?”
“...Cinnamon Stick, Apple Blossom and I are dating now… even Mothy knows that.”
“I know, I just couldn’t think of anything. Besides, I mean, tell us how you feel about her.”
“That’s easy! She’s sweet, kind, beautiful, smart, supportive, she smells nice, she has a cute accent…” Thunder trailed off, sighing with a blush and a dorky grin.
Mothball snickered at Thunder’s expression, before turning his head towards Cinnamon Stick. “Heh. Hey Cinnamon Stick, go get this guy a mirror.”
“Okay… want me to get a camera, too?”
“Heh, why not?”
Thunder’s eyes widened as he snapped out of his lovey-dovey state. “What?! Wait! Nonono! Guys, knock it off!”
“Hm… fine. As long as Mothball gets the point of the game now…”
Mothball nodded. “Yep! I sure do!”
“Alright then.” A smirk formed on Thunder’s face. “I guess that means I can challenge you then; truth or dare.”
“Uh…” Mothball thought for a minute before answering, “D-Dare?”
“Good choice.” Thunder smirked even more. “I dare you… to… to…”
“Yeah? I’m waiting.”
“I dare you… to… go ask Discord for his blessing to marry Screwball!”
Mothball’s jaw dropped to the floor. “W-What?! Are you kidding?!”
Thunder laughed. “Of course not! But you can tell him it’s a dare once you’re done.”
“He would’ve turned me into a winged cactus by then…”
“No, no he wouldn’t.”
“He’s Discord, Thunder! What do you think he does to those who wake him up just to go all ‘hey, I’m gonna marry your daughter’ or something?”
“Think it’s a dream? I mean, you would be waking him up, he wouldn’t be fully aware.”
Mothball sighed heavily, getting up on hooves. “Okay… here goes.”
Thunder smirked. “Good. If you’d refused you’d have had to do a punishment.”
The changeling swallowed. “Actually… Isn’t this Cinnamon Stick’s home?”
“Duh.”
“And Discord is…”
“At Screwy’s place.”
“...Wish me luck, then.” Mothball lit his horn up, before disappearing in a green flash.
Thunder chuckled, leaning back with his forelegs behind his head. “Heh. This should be good.”
They waited a bit. After a while, they heard another flash.
“Well? How’d it go?” Thunder grinned.
Mothball folded his forelegs and glared at him. “How well do you think it went?”
“Let me guess… badly?” Cinnamon Stick tried.
Mothball sighed and sat down, nodding. “Yeah, it was bad… if your personal definition of ‘bad’ is ‘nearly getting hit in the face by a swarm of pies’.”
“Yikes… did you at least manage to explain it was a dare?” the earth pony asked.
“I said it right before I teleported for my life.”
“Oh, okay then—”
“And I specifically said who put me up to it.”
Thunder’s eyes bulged. “Y-You what?”
“Mhm.” Mothball grinned.
“Oh no…”
“Oh yes…”
Thunder gulped nervously. “He’s… he’s not coming to get me, is he?”
“He’ll wake the whole barn up!” Cinnamon Stick exclaimed.
“Uh… let’s stick Thunder outside, so he can get him without waking anyone up.”
“Good idea, Mothy. We’ll do it by throwing him out my bedroom window.”
“Wait, what?!” Thunder gasped.
Cinnamon Stick stifled a giggle. “I’m kidding.”
“...I knew that. I can fly anyway…” Thunder huffed, crossing his hooves.
The other two chuckled, and then the three of them made their way down the wooden stairs and through the dimly lit hallway. They quietly headed outside, and Mothball lit his horn up in the darkness. They looked around the apple orchard.
“Heh. Wow,” Mothball complimented with a chuckle.
“I-I don’t see Discord…” Cinnamon Stick said. “He’s not out here.”
“He’s probably coming… he’s never usually this late.”
“Yeah…” the earth pony shuddered. “I must say, I’ve… never been out here so late at night.”
“It’s kind of spooky…” Mothball said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve been outside at night, and sometimes I’ve been in the outdoors right before the sun came up. Most of those times were when Screwy was with me, but I’ve still been outside at night by myself before. Heheh…” The changeling caught himself just before he could wander into a mindless ramble.
“Well, I mean, you’re not wrong…” Cinnamon Stick said, shivering in the cool late-night air.
“Pfft, scaredy-cats.” Thunder scoffed.
“Says the pony who freaked out when I joked about throwing him out the window… y’know, the pony who could fly.”
“I wasn’t scared!” Thunder spat. “It’s just… well, the idea of you two being strong enough to throw me out the window was just... surprising, that’s all!”
“Riiiight…”
They continued waiting, either gazing up at the night sky or listening to the crickets chirping in the faraway distance. They even admired the apples growing on the trees… even if they could barely see them in the dark. They eventually sat down, looking back up at the night sky.
“...This feels… nice actually,” Mothball admitted with a content sigh. “If only Screwy were here to witness it.”
“You’d better hope she doesn’t hear about that dare.” Cinnamon Stick added, looking at Thunder, who merely held back a snicker with the best of his ability.
Just then, they heard the audible snap of a twig.
“Aah!” Mothball jumped slightly, yelping.
“What was that?” Cinnamon Stick frantically looked around the area. “Was that a timberwolf?!”
“I didn’t think they came this close to the farm…” Mothball whispered.
“They never did, actually…”
“Th-Then what is it…?”
“No idea.”
“Do you think it’s Discord?” Thunder asked.
“Discord would’ve been here by now, don’t you think?” Mothball said before shuddering and adding, “M-Maybe it is a Timberwolf.”
“Pfft, you two are acting like cowards,” Thunder said with a roll of his eyes. “If it is a Timberwolf, Mothball could just… I dunno, shapeshift into a bear or something.”
“I think that would scare everyone inside.”
“Right…”
The colts stood up, staring into the apple trees. “If Discord were about to appear any second now, would he teleport all the way up there?” Mothball wondered aloud.
“He could… or he could just be disguised as a worm burrowing inside one of them apples,” Cinnamon Stick theorized.
They heard the rustling of the tree branches and leaves as the wind blew a gentle breeze. Mothball gulped, shivering. “Maybe we should go back inside…”
“Y-Yeah…” Cinnamon Stick agreed with a nod. “Not sure how Mom and Dad will react to us just standing out here past midnight.”
“Mhm, let’s go.”
As soon as they turned around, they heard the faint rustling of a nearby bush. Mothball and Cinnamon Stick jumped and turned to look at the bush.
“Uh… what was that noise?” Mothball asked.
“I… don’t know…” Cinnamon Stick answered.
“What are you two? Toddlers? It’s just a bush.” Thunder said. “It’s probably a squirrel or a raccoon or something.”
“Y-Yeah, you’re right.” Cinnamon Stick forced a jittery grin.
As soon as they heard the rustling again, they all darted for the door, immediately shutting it behind them.
“J-Just a squirrel, huh?” Mothball asked Thunder.
“What else would it be?”
“Well, you were scared.”
“I was not!”
“Then why’d you run?”
“Because you guys were!”
“Oh, sure.”
“Guys…” Cinnamon Stick whispered. “We’d better get back to the room now…”
“Y-Yeah, good idea.”
They trotted back up the stairs and headed back into Cinnamon Stick’s room, sitting down and sighing heavily.
“Well, that was kind of terrifying…” Mothball said.
“Haven’t you witnessed scarier, Mothy?” Cinnamon Stick scooted himself close to him.
“Well, knowing Discord could be coming at any second…”
“He should’ve came by now, really.”
“Yeah… wonder why he’s not here.”
“It was probably just a bluff.” Thunder said “You know, make us think he’s coming, freak us out, that sort of gambit.”
“I don’t know…”
“Believe it or not, he’s done it to the girls… remember that, Cinnamon Stick?” Thunder snickered, walking over and nudging the earth pony.
“Heh. Yeah… my cousin told me all about it.”
“Told you about what? What happened?” Mothball asked, scratching his head cluelessly.
“Well…” Cinnamon Stick began. “Discord may or may not have used those creepy laughing balloons with faces to scare my cousin and the other girls to sleep at the sleepover during Screwball’s fifteenth birthday.”
“Oh…” Mothball shuddered at the thought. “Okay, I guess it makes sense he’d trick us…”
“Mhm.” Thunder hummed with a nod. “We should just focus on staying up. Anyone kept track of the time?”
“Uh…” Cinnamon Stick looked up at the clock. “It’s… it’s 2:21.”
“Great, about one hour and thirty-nine minutes to go and I win the bet!”
“Anyone getting kinda hungry?” Mothball asked.
“A bit.” Cinnamon Stick replied. “Who’s up for a snack?”
“Me!” Mothball said, his hoof shooting up in the air.
Cinnamon Stick smiled, standing up. “As for you, Thunder?”
“Eh, I guess I could eat. Whatcha got, Cinnamon Stick?”
“Hm… I think mom made some fritters…”
“Oh heck yeah!” Thunder beamed, leaping to his hooves.
Mothball tilted his head. “Fuh-rit-errs?”
Cinnamon Stick chuckled. “Heh, come on Mothy, we’ll show you.”
“Okay.” Mothball said, following them out of the room and downstairs into the kitchen.
Cinnamon Stick pulled a tray of doughy treats out of the fridge. “And here we are.”
Mothball inspected the tray. The dough’s aroma smelled of baked apples. “They smell nice,” he complimented.
“Heh, thanks. Try one.”
Mothball levitated one of the pastries, taking a small bite out of it. His eyes widened, and he took another bite. “Mmm! Not bad!” he said after swallowing.
“Heh, yeah!” Thunder said, leaning his head down and eating one off the tray.
Cinnamon Stick chuckled and also ate one, wiping his mouth with a hoof. “Heh, so now what?” he asked.
“Hm… more checkers?” Mothball asked, finishing up his fritter.
“Nah,” Thunder said.
“Truth or Dare?” Cinnamon Stick turned to the pegasus.
“Already did that.”
“What else is there to do…?”
Thunder looked at Mothball, who was laying his head against the counter.
“Come on Mothy, we can’t go to sleep yet!” Thunder shook him, forcing him to look up.
“Huh? Oh, sorry… again.”
“It’s fine Mothy, Thunder’s just taking this bet too seriously.” Cinnamon Stick rubbed a hoof against Mothball’s mane. Mothball giggled and looked at Thunder, who merely shrugged.
“Like Cinnamon Stick said, now what?”
Mothball thought for a while. “Hmm… we could—”
“Wait!” Thunder grinned. “I got an idea.”
“What?” Mothball asked, right before Thunder dragged the two back upstairs. “What are we doing?”
Thunder lifted a pillow, displaying a playfully sinister grin.
“Let me guess; pillow fight?” Cinnamon Stick uttered flatly.
Mothball blinked in awe. “Pillow wha-oof!” he yelped as soon as a pillow hit him in the face, knocking him onto his side. “...Oh. Right.”
Thunder burst out laughing as Mothball shook off the pillow. His moment of amusement ceased, unfortunately, when a pillow came flying in his direction.
“Ha! Beat that!” Mothball boasted with a grin, only for Cinnamon Stick to whack him with his own pillow.
“How’s that for beating?” The brown earth pony grinned.
“Oh, it’s on!” the changeling announced, levitating multiple pillows in an emerald green aura.
A pillow ~~fight~~ war then broke out. The three tossed numerous pillows at each other, all while dodging, leaping, and falling over whenever they got hit.
Eventually, they exhausted their pillow supply, and they fell on their backs laughing their flanks off.
“Hehehe… did anyone win?” Thunder lifted his head up.
“Does it matter?” Mothball turned to face him with what little energy he had left.
“It matters to me.”
“Unsurprisingly,” Cinnamon Stick muttered, sitting up and rubbing his head. “Whew. I’m worn out. How about you guys?”
“A bit…” Mothball yawned.
“Come on, guys,” Thunder whined. “It’s not four AM yet!”
“You aren’t even a little bit tired?”
“I’m not getting any shut eye until I’m positive that I won the bet I made with my sister.” Thunder thought for a moment, and his lips curved into a smirk. “Actually, you know what?” he asked. “I’m probably going to end up staying awake until five!”
“Okay, you go ahead and do that… very stupid thing… you can stay up if you want Thunder, but I’m going to bed,” Cinnamon Stick said.
“Sorry Thunder, but I’m with Cinnamon Stick on this one. Why do you want us to participate in the bet that you made?” Mothball asked, folding his forelegs.
“You guys have to stay up to prove it!”
“Prove it?” they both said.
“Yeah, back me up to Lightning that I stayed up.”
They stared in silence.
“...Why would we need to do that?” Mothball scratched his head.
“So she won’t think I’m a liar,” Thunder explained.
“But—”
“Come on, please?! We only got an hour left!”
“Really?”
They looked at the clock. Three o’ clock AM.
“I dunno, Thunder,” Cinnamon Stick said. “Losing sleep over a silly bet?”
“Yeah…” Mothball yawned. “Why not just admit to Lightning you didn’t win?”
“But… but…”
They heard a creaking noise. Mothball jumped, shrieking and grasping onto Cinnamon Stick. “W-What was that?!” he stuttered.
“Mothy, chill, it was probably just the floor, this place is old,” Thunder replied.
“T-Then who’s inside my room…?” Cinnamon Stick shivered.
Thunder rolled his eyes. “I dunno, a rat or something?”
There was a knocking sound, and the trio turned to the closet door.
“U-Uh…” Cinnamon Stick pushed Thunder forwards. “Y-You go open it…”
“Me?!”
“You’re the one who’s not scared, isn’t that right?”
“I-uh, of course! But uh… it’s your closet, ain’t it?”
“Which is why I know I’m not going in there.”
As the two kept volleying excuses, Mothball took a breath; he knew he had to do it. He trotted up in front of the closet door and shakily reached a hoof up. That caught the two’s attention.
Cinnamon Stick’s jaw dropped. “Mothy, what are you—”
Mothball clenched the doorknob with a hoof, before slowly starting to open it…
Inside the closet was an all-too familiar draconequus sipping a glass of chocolate milk. Nonetheless, Mothball yelped and scrambled backwards.
“Uncle Discord?!” Cinnamon Stick and Thunder uttered in astonishment.
Discord spat out his drink. “Why, hello my dear nephews.” His eyes then fell on the cowering changeling. “Oh, and you too, Mothball,” he said flatly.
“W-Wha… What are you doing here?!” Mothball shakily pointed a hoof at him.
“Why, I’m here to join in the fun of course. But my, it’s late. You three should have been in bed a while ago. By that, I mean five hours six minutes and twelve seconds ago.”
“Thunder wanted to stay up because of a bet,” Mothball explained. “That, and he—”
“Dared you to ask me for a blessing in your future marriage with my daughter, eh?”
Mothball nodded as Cinnamon Stick shoved Thunder forwards.
“Well you should’ve seen his face mere minutes before he fled our bedroom.”
“I-I didn’t want to do it, Discord…” Mothball said. “I didn’t wanna get smacked by a million pies either.”
“Oh I’m aware, Mothball. We all do things we don’t want to do. What I didn’t wanna do was to wake up from that marvelous dream I was having before you abruptly aroused me from my slumber.”
“...That dream involved Aunt Fluttershy, didn’t it?” Cinnamon Stick inquired.
Discord stared for a moment. “Whether it did or not is beside the point.”
Mothball sighed. “I-I tried to tell Thunder that you’d be sleeping…”
“Oh did you now? And what did he say?”
“He… he made me do it anyway…” the changeling lowered his head.
Discord glanced at Thunder, who squeaked and hid behind Cinnamon Stick.
“Well, Thunder…” the draconequus chuckled. “I have to say… you really are Dash’s son…”
Thunder blinked upon hearing that comment.
“That is exactly the sort of thing I know she’d do.”
“Er, thanks…”
“But on the other paw… it was exactly the sort of thing she’d do.”
“Uhhhh—”
“Though, as impressive as it all was—almost as amusing as seeing you three run inside scared—it was rather… how should I say it?” Discord paused. “Oh right. Ridiculously dumb.”
Thunder’s gaze fell to the wooden floor. “Guess it was…” he mumbled.
“You guess?” Cinnamon Stick and Mothball said in unison.
Discord chuckled to himself. “Well, I surely hope you boys learned something from this little experience.”
“Y-Yes sir…” Mothball uttered, nodding along with the other two.
“Well, I best get going,” Discord got up, preparing to snap his eagle talons. “Oh, and Mothball?”
“Yeah?”
“Just so you know, I will not be telling Screwball about this little dare. You’re lucky it’s too late at night for me to bother.”
Mothball felt a smile appear on his face. Discord grinned back with a wink, before snapping his talons and disappearing in a white flash.
Mothball sighed in relief and content. “At least he didn’t turn me into a winged cactus.”
Thunder sat down, hanging his head. “I’m sorry, guys… I really shouldn’t have gotten you two into this mess.”
Mothball sighed. “It’s fine… it was a dare…”
“Still, it was a dumb dare,” the pegasus admitted.
“No argument here,” Cinnamon Stick muttered with a yawn, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier.
“And I’m sorry for forcing you guys to stay up with me because of some stupid bet…”
“Thanks for saying that, Thunder.” Mothball reached a hoof out, smiling warmly. “So, no hard feelings?”
Thunder smiled back, bumping his hoof against Mothball’s. “Yeah, no hard feelings.”
They both laughed a little, before looking at the clock. It was three thirty-five. Thunder yawned. “You know what?” he said. “Maybe now’s really the time for some shut eye. Wouldn’t you say Cinnamon Sti—” the pegasus looked at the brown earth pony, who was already sleeping peacefully in his bed. Well, maybe not peacefully, given his audible snoring.
Mothball giggled. “I think that’s a yes,” he said, getting into his makeshift bed while Thunder got into his sleeping bag.
“Goodnight Mothball.”
“Goodnight Thunder.”
The two boys drifted off to sleep with smiles plastered onto their faces.
