The Unspeakable

by Syeekoh

Rating: teen
Tags: Starlight Glimmer, Trixie, Profanity, Random, Slice of Life, DJ P0N-3, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1027

Scootaloo enters Twilight's castle and utters something unspeakable. Luckily, Trixie and friends are there to stop her.

Scootaloo enters Twilight's castle and utters something unspeakable.

Luckily, Trixie and friends are there to stop her.

Published 2023-10-05 05:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-10-05 05:20:00 UTC

Words Not Meant to be Uttered

Scootaloo strode into the Friendship Castle. Not the Friendship School — she had tried this act before and it didn’t go well.

She eyed down Spike, who was busy dusting the ceiling. An act that made Scootaloo feel bad. She steeled herself.

“Spike the Dragon!” she shouted across the foyer.

Spike paused for a moment, then lowered himself down as he put the duster away somewhere. “Yes, Scootaloo?”

“I am the Poop Farter.”

“...mhmm?” Spike intoned as he rubbed an eye while keeping the other trained on the weirdo who had just entered the castle. “Poop farter?”

“Poop Farter.” Scootaloo nodded. “I must fart poop.”

“...uhm, there’s a toilet right up the stairs if you need it,” he said as he pointed a claw up the stairs.

Scootaloo shook her head. “I need not your lavatory. I need to fart poop out of my—”

Scootaloo was then tackled by Trixie and held tight. “Now would be a good time, Vinyl!”

Vinyl Scratch, otherwise known as DJ-Pon3, grasped an oddly shaped bell in her magic along with a mallet whose head was made of stolen Yak fur.

Scootaloo glared at VInyl. “You know not what you do, mortal.”

“I,” Vinyl said as she pulled back the mallet, “don’t.” She then swung the mallet into the bell.

It made a fucking terrible sound as Starlight appeared from the top of the balcony and leapt off, capturing the demon who just expelled itself from Scootaloo’s body in a net of woven Breezie Silk. Don’t ask her how she got it. You don’t wanna know.

Scootaloo blinked and looked around before pushing Trixie off of her. “Did I do the poopfart thing again?”

Trixie stood up and shook her head. “You’re welcome.”

Scootaloo stood up and shook her head. “I gotta apologize to the Friendship school.”

She took off, leaving the three to stare at Starlight’s ill-gotten gains.

Vinyl set the bell and mallet down and peered at it. “So how much do you think this’ll go for?”

Starlight sneered. “We’re not selling Ex-cor-mant, the Devil of Down Below.”

As you should not. No price is high enough for my trickery.

“Please.” Trixie groaned. “No one’s going to buy a one-trick demon.”

“Not the point,” Starlight said as she waved the other two ponies to follow her to her workstation. “We need to banish it, and Discord’s on D.N.D. because of the O&O convention.” She snorted. “As if he would help.”

“Aww,” Vinyl awwed, “I wanted to meet him. Maybe we could team up on an album.”

“Is that all you talk about?” Trixie asked.

Vinyl blinked. “It’s kind of my job. Not everyone can afford to role-play a homeless person while telling creatures to be nice to each other.”

“I will have you know the magic of Guidance Counselory is naught to be trifled with!”

There is no such sphere of magic called guidance counselory.

“Guidance Counselory. Get it right.”

“Not our problem,” Starlight said as she nailed the bag to her banishment holster and grasped a broom made of griffon feathers freely given. She raised the broom.

Please reconsider. I can grant you riches beyond your wildest dreams. Magic beyond compare.

Starlight steeled herself. “I already have the greatest magic of all,” she said before repeatedly smacking the bag with the broom, the shrieks and wails of Ex-cor-mant filling the workspace before silencing. He left behind a present.

Vinyl wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, that’s grody.”

Trixie waved a hoof in front of her face. “He did make ponies talk about farting poop a lot.”

Starlight lit some incense, which had the power to make the room not smell like absolute dogshit anymore. She went to her journal and started jotting down notes. “This is troubling. First the face ghosts, then Rarity luring Shabbushah here… not to mention the smell of brimstone on Fluttershy’s Hearts and Hooves notes.”

Vinyl tilted her head. “Didn’t you meet with an avocado demon?”

“No, I tricked a demon into eating avocado and won their favor.”

Trixie harrumphed. “Point is, we’ve been having a lot of demonic contact over the past while. I feel like someone should do something about it.”

“Do you mean,” Vinyl asked as she lowered her sunglasses, “go on an epic quest to ensure that the veil between dark and light is sealed for eternity forthwith?”

“No,” Trixie said. “What do I look like, a hero?

Starlight closed her journal and set it away in a drawer. “Anyway, these are all isolated incidents. No reason to declare war on an entire plane of existence because of a few bad actors. If anything gets too crazy I’ll just nuke it.”

Vinyl’s jaw dropped. “There’s no way you could nuke an entire dimension.”

Starlight picked up a feather duster made from regular feathers and dusted the workspace. “With enough preparation, I probably could.”

Vinyl sat down and clapped her hooves together. “Celestia, that’s so metal! Can I record you saying you’ll nuke an entire dimension for my next single?”

“Sure,” Starlight said with a shrug. “Thanks for forging the Terrible Bell, by the way.”

“I know a lot about sonic magic, and I have the best roommate who is the judge on what sounds ‘fucking terrible’.”

Trixie shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to un-remember that sound for the rest of my life.”

Starlight put the feather down and waved the two ponies towards her. “How about we drink so much you forget the Terrible sound?” she said as she put the Terrible Bell and mallet in another drawer.

Trixie grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

“One could argue that there is no such thing as a terrible sound, but I’m always down to drink. It comes with the territory of being a tortured artist.”

“Either way, the Great and Powerful Trixie needs a Great and Powerful screwdriver.”

Starlight snuffed out the incense. “Come on. Let’s celebrate a job well done.” And with that, they exited the workspace.

The workspace rustled.

Do you think they’re onto us?

I don’t believe so.

Then we are free to cause mayhem when it next seems fit.