What else could Peter do? She already knew he was there; he was looking in her grey-blue eyes. Stealth was blown. Running wouldn't accomplish anything.

Cowabunga it is, Peter grimly thought.

The window was too small, though. So he glared at the edges. “Engorge,” he said. “Or expand, or whatever. Ugh. I need to get through.”

Zecora wasn't making any moves as Peter widened the hole enough for him to pull himself through. It was as if she was simply inviting him in. Once his feet hit the floor, though, she began speaking again.

“A pleasure it is for us to meet. What's mine is yours; please, have a seat.”

“No,” Peter refused flatly.

“Ah,” Zecora replied, toying with the gold rings on her bare wrists. “I thought you might, from what I've seen with the spirit's sight.”

Peter blinked, surprised. “Sorry?”

Zecora tilted her head. “Do you speak one word at a time? That makes it hard to make words rhyme.”

Peter rolled his eyes, partly exasperated and partly amused. “Look. How do you know who I am? You can't use magic. You don't have the Bestowal.”

“But I know spirits, and divination too,” Zecora revealed, sashaying to the side of her cauldron and gesturing inside. Peter could plainly see her Cutie Mark of a black and white sun right there on her enormous butt. “There are many paths, and many truths. In my stewpot, before my eyes, I saw your location. What a surprise! A human in Equestria? It's been so long. And each time, they come saying something that's wrong.”

Peter immediately put his mind on high alert. She was trying to manipulate him; he couldn't trust her. But something had startled him; he wasn't the first.

Zecora wafted the steam from her cauldron to her nose, and sighed in delight. “This Faust you speak of. Powerful, is she. But Faust doesn't solely have divinity. I worship older gods, potent and strong! They have given me power, and their reach is long.”

“That's impossible,” Peter denied, moving around the circumference of the trunk. “Faust is the only God in this dimension. I don't know what other gods you're talking about, but they're not from Her. And if they aren't from Her, where are they from?”

Zecora winked. “Faith, dear Peter, is a powerful thing. No matter what you put it in, strength it can bring.”

“So you're a devil worshiper,” Peter clarified.

Zecora spread her arms allowingly, and Peter kept his eyes on her face and not her exposed bosom. “If I worship the devil, is it really so wrong? It doesn't impact you; can't we all get along?”

“No,” Peter answered. “To be honest, I'm not sure why I even bothered speaking for this long. Maybe to see where you got your powers. But it would have been better if…”

He stopped. His arms suddenly felt numb. As soon as he realized this, his legs felt numb too. With every quickened breath, it got worse.

“What?” Peter whispered. “What's happening, I…”

He had to lean against the wall. His knees trembled violently before giving out all together. Peter collapsed against Zecora's wall, and his breathing accelerated. Zecora, meanwhile, was watching this with a triumphant look.

Peter's blurry vision took in the cauldron’s fumes, and it came to him.

“You witch,” he breathed. She had been stalling! “That potion, it…”

“A depressant, dear Peter. It's high in demand. Ingesting its fumes make your legs feel like sand. It works well for you, but not so for me. For I have built up an immunity.”

High in demand? Peter's thoughts raced as he tried to not black out. So she was mass-producing the equivalent of rohypnol?

Zecora, meanwhile, strutted over to Peter and crouched down, making her breasts dangle in front of him. “I make potions for Ponyville; increased size and length, decreases in stamina, potions of strength. They pay me handsomely, all folks around. But for you, this is free. Now how does that sound?”

Zecora smirked and placed her palm right on Peter's solar plexus.

With a hissing ignition on contact with Peter's skin, Zecora's hand erupted into orange flame. Zecora yelped, backed off, and started to shake the fire off, and Peter stared in wonder at first Zecora, then his own chest. There was a clearly outlined smoldering indentation where Zecora's palm had been.

The blazing touch of pain, toned down though it was, awakened his resolve. With enormous effort, Peter pushed against the wall to slump upwards. The feeling in his legs, through sheer force of will, started to come back.

Meanwhile, Zecora had desperately plunged her hand into the boiling stamina potion to get the fire out, and she was now groaning and examining her twitching red hand.

“Try this rhyme on, you utter disgrace,” Peter hissed once he got to his full height. Instinctively, white flame was conjured around his entire upper body, making his golden hair float upwards and his blue eyes glow. “Touch me, and I'll break your face!”

The flames around him were repelling the fumes of the drug. It also seemed to be in his veins, purging the effects already within him. Peter appropriately felt like his veins were on fire, urging him to move and do something, now!

So he lunged. It was much faster and stronger than he anticipated, and his collision with Zecora spun her around and knocked her to the floor. Her mohawk caught on fire, and she shrieked and started to pat it out. Upon seeing her open midriff, Peter gave it a good strong kick, and she cough-groaned and curled up.

Observing his surroundings, he found himself next to the table with the spindly idol on it. It might be false and just a heap of clay, but it gave Zecora motivation and power.

So he snatched it up by the base. It weighed about fifteen pounds. Zecora had patted out her burned hair by now, and once she saw him holding it, she yelped in fear. “No, no, put that down! You know not its worth, Peter Brown!”

Peter examined the clay idol from another angle. He was still on fire, but the flames didn't hurt the idol he was holding. “This your God?”

“Rhynamatta, of fertility! Her power is great, and her mercy free!”

“Of course it's fertility,” Peter muttered darkly.

Zecora slowly got to her feet, as if she were the one holding it, and pointed a trembling finger. “I warn you, Peter. Acknowledge this truth: Accept all cultures, and their practices too! For we all are worthy, are special and valid! Destroying our cultures shows your heart's full of malice! Ask yourself this, boy. Take it to heart. What would your God do? It isn't that hard.”

Peter stared incredulously for a second. Then he spat out a burst of laughter and smashed the sculpture on her table. The idol shattered in a spray of shards.

“NO!” Zecora roared, and surged forward. Snatching up a cast iron ladle beside the enormous pot with her good hand, she swung it hard at Peter's head. It caught his hand instead, smashing a few fingers. Also enraged, Peter tried grabbing the arm that held the ladle, but she kept it out of his reach while backing away.

In the midst of his adrenaline, Peter couldn't help but laugh some more. “What, you don't have a rhyme for that?”

It made Zecora strike again. As she mindlessly closed in, Peter gave her a solid kick in the lung. It spun her back around and made her fall, striking the bridge of her nose directly on the edge of her iron cauldron.

Zecora ceased all movement, making sounds of pain and clutching her face. Peter could hear sobs as she curled up.

For a moment, empathy came over him. This was Zecora, from the show he had liked, and she was in pain, and he had caused it–

But I did so for a reason, he thought back. She roofied me and tried to do the same thing Applejack did! I came here with the intention to kill her, and she deserves to die.

So he dropped the idol stump, came behind her, and snatched her up by the back of the gold rings around her neck. Choking, she was taken to her feet.

“You're gonna love this,” Peter hissed, bending her over the bubbling cauldron. “You're gonna get high! But you're gonna do it on your own supply.”

He grabbed her by the base of her tail as well and hoisted her up, toppling her right over the edge and splashing completely into the boiling concoction. It flung some of the vile mixture all over the floor, and Peter scooted back before it got on his trousers.

Zecora burst out of the surface, screaming wildly and burned a solid red. Startled, Peter delivered a fast jab to the bridge of her nose again. Going limp against the edge of the cauldron, Zecora slumped back under the boiling surface. Peter couldn't tell which bubbles were her last breath.

Peter stayed there for a while longer, confirming that Zecora was, in fact, dead. Then he backed up to the broken idol base, picked it up, and tossed it in the foul mixture as well with a heavy splunk.

After the rest of the pieces were discarded as well, Peter scoured the house until he found a lid for the cauldron, then put it over the top; Zecora's curled raw body had floated to the surface, and he couldn't bear looking in. It would also lessen the effect of the fumes.

Once it was on, he pushed his arms outward. A small burst of hot air cleared the toxic fumes out of the house through the open window. It also sent several notes and sheets of paper flurrying about.

Curious all of a sudden, Peter shut off the flames on his body and began collecting the notes around the small hut. Most of them were sexual potion recipes, which he crumpled in one hand. The rest were old orders. The newest one was dated only two weeks ago, and Peter examined it.

Zecora,

Thank you for your Monster Futa X delivery; I had so much fun with the spa sisters when I last went in!

We'll need more of it, plus a modest amount of the rest of your collection; Ponyville's getting ready for a statue unveiling in three weeks, and I intend for everypony in town to have as much fun as they can in the festivities. I can pay double if they all come in on time.

Remember, your services are essential for the town. I should also say thanks to Fluttershy for always taking your potions into town; ironically, she's the only one brave enough to come to you. I suppose that's for good reason; you have a tendency for the unexpected. She'll come by the morning of to make sure it's all there.

Keep on being a badass boss bitch!

–Mayor Mare

Peter's fingers had crumpled the edges of the paper by the time he was done reading. Everything in this world was a perpetual reminder that the ponies in the show didn't act the same, speak the same, as the ones here.

There were also some details that were of interest. Statue unveiling? It was taking place a week from now. That would just barely be enough time for the rest of the garments to be done before he came into Ponyville. It would also ensure everyone was in one easy spot. What better time to introduce himself?

But he needed to do it before Fluttershy came by. She was another one of his favorites, and he didn't know if he could look her in the face just yet.

Peter turned slightly to see the oblong wooden masks with wide, gaping mouths hanging on the wall. Peter had almost forgotten about those.

He hummed in thought. They would actually come in handy.

Peter selected one mask that stood out to him. It looked like it would fit him, and he liked its appearance. If he could conceal his identity, it would make things slightly easier.

And besides, he could also finally do something with those bear fangs…

Peter looted the blanket and pillow in Zecora's bed. He wasn't comfortable sleeping in the same house as a devil worshiper, and as long as he washed it, they would be fine. He also saw a long black hooded cloak, and he snagged that as well; that would also come in handy.

Once he was finally sure that there was nothing else of value in the home, Peter stuck an arm into each of the shelves full of potions and swept them out, shattering each one on the floor. He took all the documents in her home and tossed them into the full, foaming cauldron.

He came out of her hut with her bedding in tow and examined the enormous tree from afar. Did he need to sink the tree into the ground? Peter eventually decided against it. And after some more thinking, he decided to leave with some words of closure.

“So ends your tale, O woman of woe,” Peter intoned. “You were nothing like the pony I know.”

And he turned away and followed his heart back to the Tree of Harmony.

Author's Note

Rhyming in this chapter was actually a lot of fun; it never felt tedious, but I'm glad it's done.

I don't want to do that again. Past this chapter, this is the end!