“I hate this,” Beacon Fire grumbled, trotting along a path. There was nothing wrong with it, of course, it was still intact—it was just that it was upside down.

“Try flying upside down in this mess,” Frost Glide grumbled, narrowly avoiding a streetlight that was bent into a pretzel.

“Keep your eyes sharp, we have to make sure everyone’s evacuated from here, Princess Celestia’s orders,” Beacon replied.

Gritting her teeth, she leapt across a gap next to the upside down path and swam the rest of the way to a nearby hut. She kicked open the door. “Royal Guard! Anypony home?” she called inside.

Getting no response, she careful swam over to the next house. Frost joined alongside her, letting out a startled “ack!” as she flew face first into a cotton candy cloud. She shoved it away and spat out chocolate milk.

“What’s even causing this?” Frost grumbled.

“Discord, who else?” Beacon huffed. She kicked the house’s door open and made her announcement, once again getting no reply.

“Well, yeah, I kinda guessed that—I guess I mean why is he doing this?” Frost asked. “I thought he had reformed or something.”

“Well, from the reports I’ve heard, he’s got something called ‘catscratch fever’ or something. He can’t stop snapping his fingers—or claws, or whatever he has." At Frost Glide’s skeptical look, she added, “Yeah, I know. Sounds crazy.”

“That would be Discord for you,” Frost sighed.

“Hey, have you seen Pineapple anywhere?” Beacon hopped over and perched on a floating bench. The legs had sprouted little wings, keeping it aloft and steady in the fluctuating gravity.

“Last I saw him, he was on the edge of town,” Frost said. “I’m gonna head north, see if anyone’s still there. Any word from the princesses on stopping this?”

“Twilight and her friends are trying to make it through this mess to see if Fluttershy can help him,” Beacon reported. “I’m going to head west towards the center of town, good luck.”

“You’re the one who needs it—that’s the last place I saw Discord,” Frost replied, giving a brief salute before clumsily flying around the floating remnants of Ponyville.

Beacon sighed, steeling herself as she swam through the town, carefully dodging floating trash cans and barrels. She saw a few of the Pegasus guards carrying ponies towards the edge of town—fortunately, whatever was going on with Discord seemed to be localized. Outside the borders of Ponyville was normalcy.

The sound of snapping drew Beacon towards the center of town. There, in all his chaotic was Discord, dancing like he had ants in his pants—even though he wasn’t wearing any. He seemed lost to some sort of music—music only he could hear, obviously, but Beacon surmised it was some sort of dancing—and his claws snapped to a beat.

“Discord!” Beacon bellowed.

“Oh, you must be a member of the Royal Guard,” Discord said, looking genuinely relieved. “So terribly sorry for this, but I can’t get this music out of my head.”

“Have you tried tuning it out?” Beacon huffed, landing on a shrubbery. She quickly scrambled off of it onto a nearby roof as it growled at her.

“Dogwood. And do be careful about getting closer, my magic can—”

Discord was cut off as a snap of his fingers changed Beacon’s golden armor into a clown suit, complete with face paint.

“HEY!” she shouted, glaring at her new outfit. She grit her teeth, horn flaring with magic.

“I’d say it’s an improvement,” Discord replied. “I don’t think your magic is going to—”

With a snap, the fireball she had been conjuring turned into soap bubbles and drifted away.

“Help,” he finished quietly.

“Sometimes I hate this job,” Beacon muttered, frowning at Discord. “You know, I liked you better when you were a garden ornament.”

“I was a work of art, wasn’t I?” laughed Discord, cha-chaing past her.

“Fluttershy, hurry up,” Beacon groaned.

Author's Note

Fun fact: Writing Discord is fun.