A Pocketful of Sand

Chapters

9: Miss Cheerilee's Home for Peculiar Children
12: The Voight-Kampff Test, Revisited
1: The Grassy Knoll
2: Planet of the Ponies
3: They Live
4: Trust No One
5: Alien Forest
6: Alone in the Dark
7: The Where-Wolves of Ponyville
8: Stranger in a Strange Land
10: Do Android Foals Dream of Electric Cutie Marks?
11: The Upside-Down Ponies of Oklahoma
13: The Gribble Archipelago
14: Just Because You're Paranoid...
15: Invasion of the Ponysnatchers
16: I Want to Believe

9: Miss Cheerilee's Home for Peculiar Children

Gribble's Log
Location: Ponyville Schoolhouse
Post-abduction Date: Day 7
Earth Date: Unknown

I have successfully gained the trust of the Horse People, and am working on infiltrating the upper echelons of their society. The rabbit hole goes even deeper than I thought.

The one called "Twilight" has enrolled me in the local school, which appears to be little more than an indoctrination center meant to instill ludicrous propaganda into the planet's youth. Children are taught to believe in a geocentric universe, in which the celestial bodies are moved at will by a pair of evil sisters who rule this planet with an iron fist and/or hoof. Twilight claims to be their disciple. If true, I was no doubt placed under her care so that she could study me firsthand. Firsthoof. Whatever.

The door at the front of the schoolhouse opened, and an adult-sized pony entered the room. This one was crimson-colored, and had a picture of smiling flowers tatooed on her hindquarters. I had noticed these markings before; they seemed to be part of some kind of complex tagging system that the horses used to identify each other. Many of the younger ponies didn't seem to have them. Sweetie Belle and her friends didn't have them. Maybe that meant that I could trust them.

The crimson horse walked to the front of the room, and the foals seated all around me began to quiet down. I quickly slipped my notebook back into my pocket.

I was squatting on a hard wooden bench about the height of a church kneeler, behind a tiny foal-sized desk. I had been placed in the back row so the other foals wouldn't have to crane their necks to see around me. The other foals kept whispering to each other and casting curious glances in my direction. Sweetie Belle and her two friends were here as well, although she hadn't said a word to me since I'd entered the room. I tried to get her attention, but she seemed to be deliberately ignoring me.

I rolled a piece of asparagus between my teeth, and took a long, thoughtful puff.

At least they don't mind me smoking in here.

The big crimson pony cleared her throat, and the foals became silent.

"Class," she began, "We have a special visitor who is going to be joining us for a few days. This is... er... I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

Everyone turned and looked at me. I ground out my asparagus on the surface of my desk, and stood up.

"Citizens of the Horse Planet," I said. "Do not be alarmed. My name is Rusty Shackleford. I am but a humble traveler, and I mean you no harm."

The foals looked confused. One or two of them giggled. The crimson-colored pony at the front of the room was avoiding my eyes.

"Er... yes," she stammered. "Class, let's all give a warm Ponyville welcome to... Rusty Shackleford."

"Hi, Rusty Shackleford," the foals said in unison.

A filly in the front row raised her hoof.

"Um, Miss Cheerilee? Why is Rusty Shackleford here?"

Miss Cheerilee looked at me helplessly and shrugged.

"Um, well, perhaps Rusty Shackleford would like to answer that question himself?"

"I am a humble traveler from a distant world. I have come to study the people of the mighty horse planet, and learn their ways."

Try answer only seemed to confuse her further. Another foal raised her hoof.

"Where are you from?"

"I come from a place called... uh..."

It occurred to me that I was probably being observed and recorded. I had seen "Twilight Sparkle" occasionally using her dragon-slave Spike to transcribe reports on "friendship," which she would then transmit to this mysterious "Princess Celestia" using some kind of fire-based transmission system. I had no doubt my name was in these reports. For all I knew, this "Celestia" was making plans to invade Arlen even as I sat in that schoolroom.

Maybe I should make something up to throw them off the scent.

"Uh... I come from a place called... Oklahoma. My people are called... uh... Sooners."

I grimaced as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

It's a good thing Hank isn't here. If he heard me call myself a Sooner I'd never live it down.

Still, though, it had to be done. If the ponies were looking for a place to invade, better it be someplace far-off and uninhabited.

A third foal raised a hoof.

"Oklahoma? Where's that? Is it near Cloudsdale?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's somewhere in that general area."

Several more hooves went up, and the class began to chatter. The pony called Cheerilee cleared her throat and stomped her hoof lightly for attention.

"Alright class, settle down. I'm sure we all have lots of questions for Rusty Shackleford, but we need to get started on today's lesson—"

"Can I ask a question?"

Another foal had her hoof in the air, a light pink filly with a purple and white striped mane. Miss Cheerilee sighed.

"Yes, Diamond Tiara?"

"My father's been all over Equestria, and he's never told me about any place called Oklahoma. Did you just make that up to get attention?"

A little grey filly next to her snickered. Cheerilee stamped her hoof angrily.

"Diamond Tiara, that was a very rude question! Of course he didn't make it up. Did you, Rusty Shackleford?"

I shook my head.

"No ma'am, I can assure you that Oklahoma is all too real."

Several of the foals laughed. Diamond Tiara scowled.

"How come you're so weird looking?" she demanded.

"Diamond Tiara!"

Miss Cheerilee looked exasperated. The little pink filly completely ignored her. She got up, trotted over to my desk, and made a small circle around it.

"You don't look like a pony," she said, looking me up and down. "What are you?"

My eyes narrowed. There was something off about this one. She was wearing some sort of strange metal device on her head. It looked like a tiara, and her name was Diamond Tiara, and she had one of those butt-pictures that was shaped like a tiara. I was beginning to sense a theme. However, I wasn't fooled for a second. That thing on her head was an alien transmitter, I would have staked my reputation as a paranormal investigator on it.

From the way she was acting this filly clearly saw herself as an alpha-dog, and she didn't seem to fear the authority of "Miss Cheerilee." Most likely, she was an enforcer sent by "Princess Celestia" to keep an eye on the rest of the class. More than likely everything I said was being recorded and transmitted back to some central command center in the horse capital.

"So? How come you're so weird looking?" she repeated. Her underling, the little gray filly with the glasses who sat next to her, snickered again, and the teacher glared.

Diamond Tiara had an impish smile on her face, and she was obviously trying to get my goat. But I wasn't going to fall for any equine head games. I pulled an asparagus stalk out of my pack, singed the tip with my lighter and took a puff.

"My friend Bill's even weirder looking than I am," I replied, exhaling.

The whole class laughed. Diamond Tiara's scowl deepened. She opened her mouth to say something else, but before she could get the words out Miss Cheerilee stomped her hoof again.

"That's enough!" she barked. The entire class quieted down. "Diamond Tiara, please return to your seat."

She shot me a nasty look, but did as her teacher asked. I smiled inwardly. If this was the best agent this "Celestia" had to send, I was going to bust this conspiracy wide open in no time.

"Alright, class," Cheerilee continued. "That's enough questions for Rusty Shackleford. Now it's time to get back to our lesson. Yesterday, we were talking about..."

The horse went off into a lecture. I tried to listen, but most of it sounded like nonsense. Apparently, they all believed that flying horses could command the weather, and destiny was controlled by something called "cutie marks." For a race of super-intelligent horses, they sure didn't seem all that bright.

What a pack of crazy conspiracy nuts, I thought.

12: The Voight-Kampff Test, Revisited

I sprinted down the path for as far as I was able, which turned out to be about fifty feet, before I collapsed to my knees, wheezing.

"Damn asparagus," I gasped. "That stuff is gonna be the death of me."

Twilight's spell had taken care of the nicotine fits, but I hadn't realized just how weakened I'd become since I'd stopped smoking real cigarettes. Without proper tar to hold my lungs together, I couldn't even tail a simple cyborg. At the rate I was going, I probably wouldn't last five days in a Vietnamese prison camp.

I heard the sound of tiny hooves clip-clopping behind me, and wheeled around, still out of breath. Then I relaxed; it was only Sweetie Belle.

"Mr. Rusty, I really don't want to do this again—"

"Were you followed?" I demanded, cutting her off.

The little foal stopped in her tracks.

"What? Followed?" she glanced over her shoulder. "By who?"

I squinted past her, but didn't see anything suspicious.

"You probably wouldn't know it if you were."

I turned back towards the path. Sweetie Belle quickly trotted after me.

"Apple Bloom and Scootaloo are going on ahead to the clubhouse," she said. "We can still catch up to them if we hurry."

"You can," I replied. "I've still got stuff I need to do. I'll get it done a lot faster if you can tell me where that little grey cyborg pony lives."

"Grey sideboard pony? What are you even talking about?"

"The one with the glasses. Pretty sure I saw her come this way."

"Wait, do you mean Silver Spoon?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

I started walking again, and Sweetie Belle quickly galloped around in front of me.

"No, wait!" she said. "You can't do anything to her! I know she's really annoying, they both are, but if you pick a fight with her it's just going to make everything worse! Just let it go, okay? We can just go back to the clubhouse—"

"Can't. She's a cyborg. I need to take care of this."

I walked around her and continued down the path. Sweetie Belle galloped after me.

"Wait!" she called out. She ran around in front of me again, and I stopped.

She hesitated for a moment, looking over her shoulder in the direction that Silver Spoon had gone, and then she sighed.

"Look, if you promise not to do anything crazy, I can show you where Silver Spoon lives."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Crazy? Sweetie Belle, you and me might just be the only sane people in this entire town. Well, sane horse, in your case."

She rolled her eyes.

"If you don't promise, I'm not going to help you."

I reached into my pocket for an asparagus stalk, and felt a slight twinge of anxiety when I remembered that the pack was empty. Whatever else happened today, I needed to make it to the asparagus stand in town before they closed.

"Fine," I said. "If you show me where the little cyborg lives, I promise not to do anything that you would consider crazy."

She stared at me for a long time, her eyes slowly narrowing, and then she sighed heavily in resignation.

"Fine," she said. "Let's go. There's a shortcut a little further on, if we go that way we can probably get there ahead of her."

I followed her up the path a little ways, and then we turned down a side trail that wound through a thick grove of apple trees. After awhile the apple trees gave way to ordinary cedar and pine, signaling we were out of the orchard. When the vegetation was beginning to thin out entirely, Sweetie Belle motioned me to the side, and we ducked down behind a large bush.

About twelve yards ahead of us was the main path, which ended at a tall iron gate set into a stone wall.

"That's Silver Spoon's house," whispered Sweetie Belle. "Her family's not as rich as Diamond Tiara's, but they're still pretty rich."

My eyes scanned the top of the wall. I didn't see any surveillance cameras, but I couldn't rule out the possibility that there were snipers in the main house.

"What's the security situation over there?" I said in a low voice.

Sweetie Belle's ears pricked up in alarm.

"Security?" she hissed. "Wait, you're not going to go into the house, are you?!? You said you wouldn't do anything crazy!"

I scratched my chin, considering. If that little cyborg was involved in a plot to terraform the Earth, it would be crazy not to go in. On the other hand…. a full on assault would be risky. Sweetie Belle was right; it probably wasn't worth it. Better to just wait until the cyborg showed up, and see what sort of information I could get out of her.

"That probably won't be necessary," I told her. "Anyway, you can go now. I'll take it from here."

Sweetie Belle appraised me suspiciously.

"You promise you're not going to do anything weird?"

"Yep."

"You promise?"

"Yep."

She narrowed her eyes and stared at me for several seconds longer. Then, she plopped her haunches on the ground next to me.

"I don't trust you," she said.

"Suit yourself."

We sat there in silence for awhile, watching the path and the house. Birds and insects chittered in the nearby trees. The sun, which may or may not have been equine-directed, continued its slow journey across the sky.

Then there came a soft clip-clopping of small hooves. Silver Spoon emerged from around the bend, walking at a leisurely pace. Her mane was slightly damp with perspiration, but otherwise she looked the same as always. There was no sign of the other one.

"SHISHISHAW!!"

I sprang out from behind the bushes and pounced.

"EEK!"

Silver Spoon cried out, but she had no time to react. Half a second later, she was lying on her back, pinned to the ground underneath me.

"R-rusty Shackleford?!?" she looked up at me, squinting in the late afternoon sunlight, her face a blank mask of confused terror. She tried to wriggle away, but she was small enough that I could easily hold her down with one hand.

"W-what are you doing?!?" she demanded, still struggling. "Let me go!"

I reached down and snatched the glasses off of her face. She shrieked again.

"Aaah! G-get off of me, you foal-fiddling weirdo!"

One of her hind legs tried to buck at me, but she was lying at an awkward angle and couldn't put any power into it.

I slid her glasses into my shirt pocket. Then, I reached into my other pocket and rummaged around until I found what I needed. It was an old refrigerator magnet I'd found on the floor of the Rackleys' basement while I was fumigating.

I knew there was a reason I picked this thing up.

"Alright, cyborg, it's just you and me now," I said, waving the magnet threateningly in front of her face. "And I brought along your old arch-nemesis, a magnetic field. So unless you want to start singing folk ballads, you're going to keep quiet and do exactly what you're told..."

The filly's eyes were now wide with terror.

Heh. Just as I thought, she's scared to death of magnets.

"Now, then, where were we?" I barked triumphantly. "Oh, that's right: you are in a desert, walking along in the sand, when all of a sudden you look down and see a tortoise crawling towards you—"

Suddenly, I heard galloping hooves and felt a sharp jabbing sensation in my thigh. I looked down, and saw that Sweetie Belle had just rammed me with her horn. The horn was blunt and she wasn't very strong, but still; that was probably going to leave a bruise.

"What are you doing?!?" she demanded. "Are you crazy?!? Get off of her!!"

She was standing in a battle stance, with her legs spread apart and her head lowered, her teeth bared at me in defiance. She looked about as angry and menacing as a tiny white unicorn could look, which as it turned out wasn't all that menacing. Still, something about the hateful way she was glaring at me made me pause. I turned back to Silver Spoon, who was now trembling uncontrollably and had real tears in her eyes. I suddenly felt a small twinge of guilt that I couldn't quite explain.

Sweetie Belle's horn sparked up, and I felt a light tickle of electricity running through my body as a thin aquamarine aura surrounded me. The little horse strained every muscle in her body, but she couldn't quite muster enough strength to actually levitate me. Still, the slight upward force was enough to throw me off balance.

"Waaaugh!"

I fell over, and Silver Spoon immediately scrambled to her hooves. Her braided mane was in disarray, and her coat was smeared with dirt. She glared back and forth between me and Sweetie Belle, her lower lip trembling with rage and hurt. Then, suddenly, she turned and galloped away, tears streaming down her face as she ran.

"YOU STUPID BLANK-FLANKS ARE GONNA PAY FOR THIS!!" she howled, and then a moment later she was through the wall, the iron gate clattering shut behind her.

I stood up and brushed myself off, then reached into my pocket for a smoke. I felt a mild panic as my fingers curled around an empty pack again, but I forced it down. I glanced at Sweetie Belle, who was still standing in her battle stance, breathing heavily.

"Welp, now you've gone and done it," I said.

Her eyes went wide with fury, and she spun around and bucked me in my right shin.

"YAAAGH!" I cried out, grabbing hold of my right leg and hopping up and down.

"I've gone and done it?!?" the little unicorn shouted. "I've gone and done it?!?"

She bucked my other shin, and I fell down on my butt, now clutching both legs. She stood there glowering at me, light puffs of steam emitting from her nostrils.

"Just what in Equestria was that about, anyway?!?" she demanded. "You can't just go around attacking ponies like that! What if she tells somepony? Are you trying to get thrown in jail for assaulting school fillies?!?"

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut in from nearby:

"Do we even have a jail in Ponyville?"

Apple Bloom came trotting out from behind the bushes, Scootaloo a few steps behind her.

"Yeah," Scoot chimed in. "I think Miss Cheerilee said once that nopony has been put in jail in Equestria for like a hundred years."

Sweetie Belle appeared to have calmed down a little. She sighed, and plopped down sulkily, her tail still twitching from adrenaline.

"Yeah, well," she half-muttered. "If anypony was going to break that record, it would definitely be this guy."

Apple Bloom trotted around and stood between us, looking worriedly from one of us to the other.

"It was just a prank, right?" she asked, turning to me. "You weren't really going to hurt Silver Spoon, were you Mr. Rusty?"

That weird twitch of guilt came back. I mean, obviously I hadn't been in the wrong, but at the same time these fillies couldn't have been expected to understand that their classmate was really a Nexus-6 replicant. Plus, now that I thought about it, I could see how someone watching might have misunderstood the situation.

"Nah, this thing wouldn't have hurt her," I said, tossing the magnet into some nearby bushes. "At most it probably would have just zapped her a little. I'm assuming her cyberbrain is electromagnetically shielded."

Apple Bloom turned to Sweetie Belle.

"See, Sweetie Belle? It was just a joke. Her..." she glanced at me. "Her cider grain is... is whatever he said."

Sweetie Belle snorted, and blew a loose strand of mane away from her eyes.

"Yeah, well," she muttered. "It was still a pretty mean thing to do. Even if it was just Silver Spoon."

Scootaloo laughed.

"I don't know, I thought it was kinda funny," she said. "I mean, when was the last time you ever saw her totally speechless like that?"

Her eyes went wide, and she started to blubber and babble, in a fairly good imitation of Silver Spoon a couple of minutes ago. Apple Bloom giggled, and Sweetie Belle cracked a smile in spite of herself.

We all looked up sharply as the iron gate swung open with a loud bang. A furious-looking earth pony wearing a suit and tie but no pants came storming out.

"Hey, you little hooligans!" he shouted. "What the hay did you just do to my daughter?!?"

"Yaagh!" I scrambled quickly to my feet.

"Oh hayburgers!" cried Apple Bloom. "Come on, we gotta get out of here!"

We took off running as fast as we could. Behind us, we could hear shouts of what I could only assume was Equestrian profanity, fading away into the distance.

1: The Grassy Knoll

“Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you.”
― Joseph Heller, Catch-22

My head was pounding. There was a smell of wild grass and flowers. Dew was soaking into my jumpsuit. I opened my eyes and squinted into bright sunlight.

Sunlight?

The last thing I could remember was the house I was fumigating. I had been tracking blatella germanica, the German cockroach, one of the most cunning creatures known to man. For hours our game of cat and roach had gone on, until finally I had the bastard cornered in the cellar. We faced off. I remember he'd waved his antennae in defiance, mocking me to the last. I admired his courage. I pulled the trigger of my spray wand and let him have it. Poison spewed forth, a thick miasma of toxic death, slowly filling up the basement. I could remember my head swimming, it had been getting harder to think straight. I'd turned to the side... I remembered seeing my reflection in a mirror...

My head throbbed again. The poison. That had to be it. I must have passed out from the fumes. It's happened before. Damn crafty roaches, always hiding in unventillated basements.

How did I get outside, though?

I sat up groggily. I was alone on a grassy knoll. Gentle hills rolling off in all directions, covered in wild grasses and flowers. There was no sign of the house, or of civilization of any kind. The sky was a deep blue, without the usual haze of pollution. This didn't look like any part of Arlen I'd ever seen.

I must be miles out in the country. Where am I? How did I get here?

I felt a chill run down my spine. What if it hadn't been an accident? What if that basement had been left unventilated on purpose? Whoever did this must have waited until I'd passed out, and then dragged me out to this meadow and left me for dead.

"The question is who," I said aloud. "And why?"

Was the roach behind it? No, that couldn't be. Blatella germanica was crafty to be sure, but not crafty enough to pull off something like this. Plus, there was the size difference. I knew that an ant could carry many times its own weight, but could a roach? Whoever did this had to be large enough and strong enough to carry a full-grown man. I doubted a roach could have done it on his own. But what if he'd had an accomplice?

"Yes, it all makes sense..."

It had been the roach's job to create a diversion. He lured me down to the basement, where I would have no choice but to use poison. His partner would have sealed up the windows in advance. Then, when I'd passed out from the fumes―

I rose slowly to my feet, and had another look at my surroundings. The landscape was completely unfamiliar to me. As far as I could tell, I was in the middle of nowhere. I might have left Texas entirely. Somebody had wanted to get me out of the way, that much was certain, and they had gone to a lot of trouble to do it.

"So the real question is: who stands to gain from my disappearance?"

Again, the roach was the obvious answer. Maybe a little too obvious. And the roach couldn't have done it alone. The Federal government was probably also involved. They'd been wanting to get me out of the way for some time.

I reached into the pocket of my jumpsuit, and frowned.

That's odd. Where are my smokes?

I felt in the other pockets. Nothing. I'd bought a whole carton the other day, and I knew for certain I'd had at least half a pack on me when I entered the house.

I felt my stomach tighten. The situation was even more dire than I'd thought. The Federal government, in collaboration with a roach and possibly other unknown parties, had conspired to maroon me in an unknown location without smokes. I could feel the early onset of panic: sweat breaking out on my forehead... heart palpitations... tunnel vision...

Calm down Gribble, you're trained for this...

I began to perform an ancient Indian breathing technique I'd learned from my friend John Redcorn. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out. In and out. Over and over again. John Redcorn said he used that technique on my wife all the time, and it always calmed her down. In and out. In and out. Slowly, steadily, I brought myself back from the precipice.

I stared out at the landscape once again. It was a warm, quiet afternoon. A light breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and far-off pine trees. It was a nice place here, quiet and tranquil. And yet, somewhere out there lurked a malevolent entity, an entity that had brought me to this place for some foul purpose, and deprived me of my smokes...

"Show yourself, you coward!!" I shouted, shaking my fist at the air.

"Uh... are you talking to me?"

I wheeled around at the sound of a young female voice. I must still have been woozy from the poison, otherwise nobody could have gotten the drop on Dale Alvin Gribble. I looked around in confusion for the source of the voice, but could find no one.

"Uhhhh... hello?"

The voice came again. This time I looked down. There was a tiny white horse standing in the grass, looking up at me with a confused expression.

She was the strangest-looking sentient talking horse I'd ever laid eyes on. On all four legs she barely stood as high as my knee. Her coat was white, but her mane and tail were pink and purple, done up in flowing curls. For some reason, looking at her made me think of a marshmallow. A small white horn protruded from the center of her forehead, possibly of alien origin.

She stared up at me, her enormous green eyes curious but unafraid. I stared back. Several uncomfortable seconds passed.

"Uh, my name's Sweetie Belle," she said finally. "What's yours?"

So, this horse can speak English. Interesting...

I had no doubt that this creature was an extraterrestrial. Could she have been involved in my abduction? Looking at her, it seemed unlikely. But if there's one thing I've learned from my years as a professional exterminator/bounty hunter, it's that you should never turn your back on a talking horse. Suddenly, I realized that she'd just asked me a question.

"My name is―"

I cut myself off. If there were two things I'd learned from my years as an exterminator/bounty hunter, it was this: never turn your back on a talking horse, and never tell it your real name.

"My name is... Shackleford. Rusty. Rusty Shackleford."

The little horse raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Shackleford? That's kind of a weird name."

She trotted a small circle around me, looking me up and down. Either she'd never seen an Earth man before, or she was looking for a place to implant a microchip. Until I knew which it was, I felt it was best to be on my guard.

"You don't look like a pony," she continued. "What are you exactly?"

So, she's a pony eh? Interesting...

"The pony is a subspecies of the equine," I mused out loud, scratching my chin pensively. "Known for its diminuitve stature."

"Uh... yeah."

This exchange was followed by a long bit of awkward silence. I continued to scratch my chin and muse. A pony. I was pretty certain that ponies couldn't talk. At least... not on Earth. Could the same type of creature have evolved simultaneously on an alien world, and learned to speak English somehow?

The rabbit hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper...

Instinctively, I reached into my jumpsuit pocket, only to remember that my smokes were gone. I felt that twinge of anxiety creeping up on me again. If I didn't get some nicotine soon, I was going to be in trouble.

I realized the pony was still watching me.

"Say, uh... Sweetie Belle, was it?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know where I could buy some smokes around here?"

She wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Smokes?"

"Yeah, you know, puff puff?" I held two fingers to my lips and pantomimed smoking a cigarette.

The horse stared blankly back at me.

"Cigarettes? Manitoba?"

I made the pantomime smoking gesture again. Sweetie Belle cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

"You're really weird," she said.

She glanced over her shoulder. For the first time, I noticed the outline of a few buildings in the distance. There must be some kind of town nearby.

"Somepony else might know what you're talking about," Sweetie Belle continued. "Do you live near Ponyville?"

Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Ponyville?"

I couldn't say I'd ever heard of the place. I knew there was a petting zoo in McMaynerbury called Ponyland, but somehow I didn't think that's what she was talking about.

"Is that anywhere near Arlen?" I asked carefully.

"Arlen? Um, I'm not sure. I don't think I know where that is."

"Arlen, Texas?"

"Texas? Is that in Equestria?"

"Equestria?"

Slowly, it began to dawn on me that I might be even further from home than I'd first thought. Maybe even as far as Oklahoma.

"I think... I may be lost," I said, slowly and carefully.

Sweetie Belle's face brightened.

"Oh, well, that's okay! I didn't think you looked like you were from around here. I can show you the way to Ponyville, if you want."

I gave the little pony one last suspicious appraisal, and decided to trust her for the time being.

"Alright," I said.

"Come on," she continued. "We'll go back to my clubhouse first. My friends might know about... what was that thing you wanted again?"

"Smokes?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah, that. Anyway, my friends might know where you could find some."

"Okey dokey."

The little pony turned and trotted off through the grass, and I fell into step behind her.

2: Planet of the Ponies

Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Approximately 1600 hours

With each passing moment, my situation grows more dire. I have decided to keep a journal to record my thoughts. If you are reading this, I have no doubt been taken prisoner and/or killed. Please deliver this notebook to the Arlen Gun Club so that they may record my exploits for posterity, or failing that, to Mr. Hank R. Hill of Rainy Street. Arlen, TX. Earth. Milky Way Galaxy.

If you are an agent of the United States government, this journal is not about anything important. Please disregard everything it contains.

It has now been nearly 60 minutes since my last smoke. Already I can feel the madness taking hold. Soon I will be incapacitated beyond rational thought. It is only due to my extensive training as a licensed professional bounty hunter that I have managed to thus far remain calm.

The small equine creature that greeted me has taken me back to her lair, a crudely constructed treehouse, where I was introduced to two creatures of the same species. The little yellow one calls herself "Apple Bloom," and her friend is "Scootaloo." The possibility that these may be CIA-assigned codenames has not escaped me.

I have seen no familiar landmarks, and no sign of human presence. My current location is unknown, though I now believe that I have left Earth entirely.

Fortunately, my training allows me to project the appearance of perfect nonchalance. I don't think my tiny horse companions suspect that anything is amiss...

"What's he writin' about?" one of the little ponies, the one called Apple Bloom, whispered to Sweetie Belle. Sweetie shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know," she whispered back. "It looks important, though."

I ignored them both and continued scribbling furiously into my notebook. I could feel the early stages of nicotine madness coming on, and I knew I didn't have much time. Wherever I was, I knew that I might not make it out of this alive. I had to record my thoughts and observations while I still could.

"He's sweating an awful lot," observed a third pony, the little orange one with wings. Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle said nothing, but kept watching me with a concerned expression on her face.

"Uh, Mr. Rusty?" said Apple Bloom hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

I glared suspiciously at the three ponies for a moment, cupped a hand over the page so they couldn't read it, and continued scribbling:

These pony creatures resemble no form of extraterrestrial life with which I am familiar, and other than lost time, I have experienced no phenomena consistent with alien abduction. Also unusual is that these "ponies" have mastered the English language, and seem to possess technology similar to ours.

My hands were twitching uncontrollably; it was all I could do to keep my pen straight. I could feel a familiar queasiness in my stomach. My head was swimming. I noticed that Scootaloo was watching my movements closely. I felt the cold icy fingers of paranoia creeping up my spine. What was it about this one that was bothering me?

Suddenly, I remembered something I'd noticed earlier, and wrote hastily in my journal:

Observed that "Scootaloo" arrived at the treehouse on a scooter similar to the kind an Earth child might use. She was also wearing a crash helmet. Why would a race of four-legged creatures develop a mode of transport that would be incredibly awkward for them to use? Why would a pony with wings need to use a scooter to get around in the first place? How did she get that helmet on? How did she get it off? I have more questions than answers.

Have I truly left Earth, as I suspect? Or have I traveled through time to some grim distant future, in which hyper-evolved ponies have risen up and slain their former masters?

Or, what if it's even simpler than that? What if I never left Arlen, but instead Arlen was invaded and rapidly terraformed by invaders from some far-off Planet of the Ponies?

The dizziness and nausea were getting worse. It was getting harder and harder to think. My hand was by now shaking uncontrollably, and I realized that writing was a wasted effort. I stuffed the notebook and pencil back into the pocket of my exterminator jumpsuit.

"Uh... Mr. Rusty?"

Sweetie Belle was watching me with concern. The little treehouse felt hot and stifling. I took off my baseball cap and wiped my brow; my hand came back soaked with sweat. I didn't have much time.

"Smokes..." I croaked out, my voice barely audible.

"Huh?" asked Scootaloo, wrinkling her brow in confusion.

"SMOKES!!"

I had meant that to be a sentence. It came out more like a girlish shriek. The three ponies stepped back in alarm.

"Wow, he looks really sick," Scootaloo remarked.

"Yeah..." Sweetie Belle sounded worried. "He's been talking about something called 'smokes' an awful lot. Do either of you know what those are?"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo shook their heads.

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. Things were looking bad. The three ponies had picked up on my weakness. If they were hostile, they could pounce at any second. In any event, it was clear that they didn't have any smokes.

I decided to make a break for the door. I stood up, doing my best to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately, I stood up too fast; my coordination was off. Also, I had forgotten I was in a treehouse built for very small ponies. My head slammed against the ceiling, and I fell backward through the door.

I tumbled head over heels and out into empty space. Suddenly, I was rolling down a flight of stairs. I saw blue sky above me, and then wood, then blue sky, then wood; over and over. Occasionally I caught glimpses of a treehouse getting further and further away.

The back of my head connected with a rock or something as I hit the ground. Through my blurred vision I could see the heads of the three ponies poking out over the edge of the treehouse entrance.

"Uh, maybe we should get my sister."

Apple Bloom's voice floated through a fog of confusion as I struggled to maintain consciousness. Dimly I wondered who this "sister" might be. Had this been their plan all along? Now that they'd successfully incapacitated me with nicotine withdrawal, would the alien queen harvest my organs? Was this how the story of Dale Gribble was going to end?

I reached for my emergency cyanide pill, but then I remembered it was with my smokes. Then, I remembered that I didn't actually have an emergency cyanide pill. I had tried to order one, but there was some kind of problem with the international shipping. Damned internet.

Just my luck, isn't it?

My vision went black, and I remembered no more.

3: They Live

When I came to, I was lying in a strange bed.

I didn't recognize the room, but it was clearly a human dwelling. There was no one else around. My head was still swimming. Disjointed images flickered rapidly through my head. Ponies. Flying saucers. Cockroaches as big as your fist.

The nicotine fit had not subsided. I was still sweating and experiencing mild convulsions. However, as far as I could tell, there was no sign of the three ponies or the treehouse.

"Was it a dream?" I wondered out loud.

I blinked and took another look at my surroundings. The place definitely had a rustic feel. The walls, floor and ceiling were all made out of wood, making the room feel more like the inside of a barn than a house. Everything had a weird "apple" motif to it. However, the furniture was definitely made for humans.

My mind was still hazy, but I tried to remember the details of the house I'd been fumigating. It was a place in East Arlen; the owner's name was Mrs. Rackley I think.

"Maybe she found me after I passed out and carried me upstairs," I mused.

Yeah, that made sense. This was probably the attic or something. I must have passed out from the poison, and the owner of the house came home and carried me up to a spare bedroom. All that stuff about ponies must have just been a gas-induced nightmare.

"Hah!" I laughed out loud. "Ponies riding scooters, building treehouses... I'd have to be crazy to believe something like that! Wait until the guys in the alley hear about this..."

I struggled into a sitting position and pushed back the thick quilt that someone had placed on top of me. I was still wearing my Dale's Dead Bug jumpsuit. I reached into the pocket for my smokes, but found it was empty.

Dang, looks like that part wasn't a dream.

My hat and glasses were on a side table.

"Maybe Mrs. Rackley has some smokes," I muttered as I rummaged around in the table's little drawer. No such luck it would seem. Oh well, I'd just have to grab a pack from the carton in the Bugabago.

Before I could climb out of bed, however, I heard footsteps in the hall. Something about them didn't quite sound right. A bit more clippity-clop than I was used to.

If I didn't know better, I'd swear Mrs. Rackley was wearing horseshoes...

Slowly, the door creaked open, and in an instant the horror and paranoia was back. For instead of the haggard face of Mrs. Rackley, I saw a pony poking its head through the opening.

This pony was larger than the other three, but still much smaller than the kind I was used to. She had a blonde mane and her coat was the color of an orange creamsicle. For some reason she was wearing a cowboy hat.

Why would a pony need to wear a cowboy hat?

Something definitely wasn't right here. The pony and I stared at each other for several seconds, neither of us saying anything. Then, slowly, it began to dawn on me.

The house. The bed. The quilt. The hat. None of these things made sense for a pony to own. This wasn't a pony house. This was a people house. Or at least... it had been.

A slow chill ran up my spine. What kind of horror story had I woken up in? But I could no longer deny the evidence that was right in front of my eyes. None of it had been a dream. Arlen had been invaded by hostile, sentient, English-speaking ponies. Probably working with the roach, they had used my own poison gas to get me out of the way, and while I was unconscious... one of them had killed Mrs. Rackley and stolen her hat!

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THE RACKLEYS?!?" I shouted.

Or at least, that's what I'd meant to say. It came out more like garbled gibberish; somewhere between a cough and a feminine shriek. Reflexively, I grabbed the quilt and pulled it up to shield myself.

The pony gave me a confused look, and then turned to address someone behind her in the hallway.

"Uh, can he talk?" she asked. "Or does he just make noise like that?"

The pony had an accent. She sounded like she came from down South somewhere.

By God, they're learning to mimic us! Clever girl...

"He can talk. Sorta."

One of the three smaller ponies from before, the one called Apple Bloom, trotted into the room, followed by her two friends. She spoke with the same accent, I noticed.

"At least, I've heard him say 'smokes' an awful lot," Apple Bloom added.

The larger one with the hat screwed up her face in confusion.

"Smokes? Now what in the hay is that?"

She approached me and put her face close to mine, looking me over.

"Just what sorta critter are you, anyway?" she asked. "You don't look like no kinda pony I ever seen."

Wait, if she killed Mrs. Rackley, why does it sound like she's never seen humans before?

Damned nicotine fit; I couldn't even think straight. It felt like there was a big piece of the puzzle that I was missing. I tried to climb out of the bed, but my balance was still off.

"My name is Rusty Shackleford," I mumbled. "I am on vacation―"

Somehow, I'd become entangled in the quilt. I lost my balance, and my head clonked against the hard wooden floor. An orange hoof pulled back the quilt, and the hat-wearing pony was now staring down at me, looking confused.

"Whatever he is, he don't seem too bright..."

I tried to stand up and speak, but my body would not obey my commands. I could only lie curled on the floor in a fetal position, twitching pathetically.

"Smooookes..." I croaked in a feeble voice.

The orange pony gave me a long, pitying look and turned once more to the smaller one.

"Wow, he's really sweatin'. Where did y'all say you found him again?"

"He was in the meadow a little ways outside Ponyville," said Sweetie Belle. "He said he was lost."

Sweetie stood with her front hooves on my chest, peering down at me with a worried look. Her breath smelled like sour hay and flowers.

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked. "I think we really need to get him some smokes, whatever those are."

Apple Bloom trotted over.

"Have any idea what they are, Applejack?"

The big pony, whose name seemed to be Applejack, rubbed a hoof against her chin and stared through the window, lost in thought.

"No, I don't reckon I do," she admitted. "Granny Smith might know, but she and Big Mac went to Baltimare and won't be back for a week."

Her face lit up, and she stomped a hoof decisively against the floor.

"I know! Let's ask Twilight for help! If anypony 'round here would know what 'smokes' are, it'd be her."

The three smaller ponies looked up excitedly.

"Hey, yeah!" exclaimed Sweetie Belle, her hooves digging sharply into my sternum. "That's a great idea! Twilight knows about all kinds of weird stuff!"

"I'll run out and get her," Applejack was saying, as she headed for the door. "It's probably best if we keep him here for now. He looks like he could use some more rest, anyway."

She cast a worried glance over her shoulder.

"Y'all stay here and keep an eye on... uh, what did you say your name was again?"

"Sh-Shackleford. Rusty. Rusty Shackleford."

As I croaked out the words, Sweetie Belle suddenly realized she was still standing on my chest, and quickly stepped back.

"Right," said Applejack. "Mister... uh... Shackleford Rusty Rusty Shackleford. Well, I'll be off then. Don't y'all go nowhere."

And with that, she turned and galloped off down the hall.

4: Trust No One

I continued to drift in and out of consciousness, wandering alone across a twisted dreamscape. I saw my friends and family, toiling under their new four-legged candy-colored overlords. Arlen, my beloved hometown, stripped bare of its resources and converted into some kind of reverse petting zoo, where enslaved humans prance around for the amusement of ponies... ponies that strut around in our hats while we are forced to go bare-headed...

In my brief moments of lucidity I heard snippets of voices. The ponies were no doubt discussing my fate as I lay helpless, writhing in smokeless agony.

"...don't know what to do..."

"...ain't seen nothin' like it..."

"...keeps talking about 'smokes'..."

Nothing was clear anymore. Part of me wished they would just finish me off and be done with it. Then suddenly I had a vision: a blonde, beautiful goddess with a fantastic can. My wife, Nancy.

Nancy! Where are you, my love? What have these horrible ponies done to you?

No, I realized, I couldn't give up. I had to pull through and survive. My wife. My son. They needed me. Sure, I could probably trust my friend John Redcorn to look after them for a little while, but it wouldn't be fair to ask a man to spend the rest of his life taking care of another man's family. Especially not in whatever grim pastel-colored hell the world had become. I had to pull through this.

I was already slipping back into the realm of dreams, but I forced myself to stay conscious. I tried to focus on the ponies' conversation. There might be something I could learn.

"...not quite sure what it is specifically, but he's definitely addicted to something."

My ears perked up. A new voice was speaking. Another female, this one sounded high and nasally. Bookish. Kind of a know-it-all.

"Can you do anythin' for him?"

That was Applejack speaking. The new voice hummed softly in response, as if deep in thought.

"I'm not sure," she admitted finally. "If we can find out a little more about what he's addicted to, I can probably transfer the addiction to something harmless; tree bark or asparagus or something."

"That might help..." mused Applejack.

"In the meantime I can cast a temporary spell that should give him some relief, and hopefully bring him out of this delirium," the voice continued. "Once we get him conscious and speaking, we can ask him a little more about... what did he say they were called?"

"Smokes," answered Sweetie Belle from somewhere.

"Right. Smokes. Okay then. Here, uh, Mr. Rusty. Hold still."

Suddenly, I felt a warm sensation envelop my entire body. My brain had been running a mile a minute, but now it began to slow down, and my thoughts became more orderly. I felt... great, actually. The icy tendrils of nicotine withdrawal were melting away. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Now you can tell me―"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

A new pony was standing over the bed, looking down at me with huge, bulbous eyes. Her coat was purple, the color of off-brand cough medicine, with a dark lavender mane that had a magenta stripe running through it. A single horn protruded from the center of her forehead, glowing with a malevolent aura.

I had no doubt about what she was planning to do next.

"Get away from me, you nasty alien!!" I cried, flailing my hands wildly. The pony sprang backward in alarm.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "What in the name of Celestia―"

Recovering herself, she took a tentative step towards me again, then another, her horn still glowing.

I had no idea what she'd done, but somehow she'd cured my nicotine fit. Unfortunately for her, that would prove her undoing. I hadn't wanted to reveal my martial arts training just yet, but this pony had forced my hand.

"I WON'T LET YOU PROBE ME!" I shouted. "NEVER AGAIN!!! SHISHISHAW!!!!"

I sprang from the bed, aiming a karate chop that should have incapacitated the creature's horn. However, she suddenly vanished into thin air, reappearing about three feet to the right. My strike passed through the space where she'd been, throwing me off balance. I went to the ground, face-first, the full force of my karate chop connecting with the hardwood floor. My hand went numb, and I cried out in pain.

"What in Equestria are you trying to do?!?" the pony demanded. "You almost hit me!"

I rolled over on my back. She was standing off to the side, looking confused and annoyed. Applejack and the three smaller ones were nearby, looking just as confused.

"Teleportation..." I muttered. "Even the Russians haven't perfected that yet. Just what in the hell are you?"

I pulled myself slowly to my feet. The ceiling in here was lower than you'd expect in a human dwelling, I noticed, but not so low that I couldn't stand. I fell into a defensive stance, glowering at the purple horse.

"Now calm down, Mr. Rusty," Applejack interjected, "This here's my friend Twilight. She ain't here to hurt you, she's only tryin' to help―"

She tried to move in between me and the pony called Twilight, but as she did I noticed that horn beginning to glow again. I felt a tingling in my skin, and the hairs on my arm were standing on end.

"Not today, you bastards!"

I took a sudden leap forward, startling Twilight just enough for me to break free of the aura of pink light that was encircling me. I made a dash for a nearby window, but before I could reach the latch, she recovered her concentration. I found myself trapped in some kind of alien tractor beam, levitating slowly into the air.

"Listen," said Twilight, "I don't know what's going on exactly, but I'm not trying to hurt you. If you could just hold still for a second―"

My right hand was still numb from the shock of hitting the floor, but I could move my left. I slipped it into the pocket of my jumpsuit, reaching for my secret weapon.

"That's it," said Twilight soothingly, taking a tentative step forward. "Nopony's trying to hurt you, now let's all just calm down and―"

As soon as the pony was in range, I suddenly let my hand fly with as much force as I could muster.

"Pocket sand!"

"Aaah! What the―"

Twilight reflexively moved her foreleg up to shield her eyes. The tractor beam broke, and I fell to the floor, landing in a crouch.

I cast a wary glare around the room. Twilight was blinking and rubbing sand out of her eyes. The other four were just standing there, looking stunned and a little frightened.

"We were just trying to help," stammered Sweetie Belle.

The tiny marshmallow-horse looked genuinely sorry, and for just a second I felt a little bad. Was this all just a misunderstanding? Could these creatures be friendly after all?

I gave my head a quick shake.

Snap out of it, Gribble! Whatever happened to 'trust no one?' Do you want to end up naked on some alien-horse-doctor's autopsy table?!?

"YOU'LL NEVER GET MY BRAIN!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, and they all took a surprised step back.

That was the chance I needed. I sprang for the window, and before any of the ponies had a chance to react, I pried back the latch and flung it open. I paused only long enough to snatch up my hat and glasses from the bedside table and to hiss menacingly at the alien invaders. Then I scrambled out through the open window.

Unfortunately, the roof outside had a steeper slope than I'd been expecting. I immediately lost my footing, slid down the roof and collided face-first with the peaked roof of some kind of outbuilding underneath.

"Ow..."

I rolled down the roof of the outbuilding, landing on my back with a plop, in a puddle of what I really hoped was just soft mud. I could hear pigs grunting and squeaking in alarm.

Up above, Applejack's confused face poked out through the window I'd jumped from.

"Hey there!" she called out. "Mr. Rusty! Are you crazy? Get back up here before you hurt yourself!"

I realized that the element of surprise had only bought me a few precious seconds. I didn't have time to lie around here all day. The one called "Twilight" seemed pretty sharp for a talking horse; she had probably already called for reinforcements.

I scrambled to my feet and stumbled forward as quickly as I could, but the mud was slowing me down. I was vaguely aware of Applejack calling out to me, but I don't know what she said. There was a white picket fence not far away, and on the other side was freedom. I focused my attention on that.

Once I made it over the fence I could move more quickly. I still had no idea where I was, but this was clearly a farm, and the layout was predictable. A front gate led out to a dusty unpaved road running in two directions. I didn't know which direction led where, but it didn't matter. Staying off the main roads when you're under enemy pursuit is pretty much Survival 101.

I dashed across the road and into a massive orchard of apple trees. I could hear hoofbeats behind me, still far away for now, but they would close the distance fast.

The surrounding countryside was hilly, and in the distance ahead I could see a thick forest beginning where the apple trees ended. My only hope was to make it to those woods and lose them inside. I took off at a sprint, pushing my body as hard as my poor, smokeless lungs would allow.

"Dammit," I wheezed as I ran. "Where am I? What is this place? Nothing makes sense anymore..."

5: Alien Forest

Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Approximately 1800 hours

After my harrowing escape from Applejack's Farm of Terror, I found myself in a deep forest. Due to my training, I was able to give my pursuers the slip, and I no longer fear capture. However, the downside of this seems to be that I am now lost in the woods.

I am still without food and without smokes. My ability to navigate by the North Star is presently useless as it is daytime. During my time in captivity, the pony called "Twilight" used some kind of weird alien power to cure my nicotine fits; however, I suspect the effects will be temporary. In a few hours time, I will once again be incapacitated for lack of smokes.

The situation remains dire. What awaits me is a battle between Man and Nature that will put my survival training to the ultimate test. I do not know which of us will emerge the victor.

If I do not return, I implore whoever finds this journal to please convey my love and regret to my wife, Nancy Hicks-Gribble, and to my son, Joseph Gribble. Also, tell Hank he can have my mower.

I was deep in the woods, the shadows around me growing longer as the sun veered sharply to the west. Thick undergrowth and gnarly trees, beginning to look more and more menacing in the fading light, closed in on me from all sides.

I stopped at a small brook to smear some mud on my face. This was an old Indian camouflage trick I'd learned from my good friend John Redcorn. Either that or I saw it in a movie once; I don't remember. Either way, I knew that by painting my face with mud, my skin would resemble tree bark. If a pony were to pass by, I could hold still with my arms in an upright position. Pony vision is based on movement, so I knew that as long as I didn't move a muscle, the pony would think I was a tree and keep walking.

Wait, is that ponies or bears?

I frowned, rubbing mud down the front of my jumpsuit and along the arms. Nearby, an owl hooted, followed by another one. A cicada was chirping in a bush somewhere off to my right. Night would be approaching soon.

No, I'm pretty sure it's ponies.

I grabbed two handfuls of sand and stuffed one into each of my pockets. Might as well reload while I have the chance. Then, I pulled some twigs off of a nearby branch and stuck them into the chest pockets of the jumpsuit, and into the wrist cuffs.

Yes, this disguise is perfect. These alien ponies have no idea who they're up against...

I heard a slight rustle in the leaves behind me. Instantly I froze, holding my arms upright in a tree-like pose.

"Mr. Ruuuuuuuusty! Helloooooo! Jeez, where did he go?"

I recognized that voice. It was the little pony I met first, the one called Sweetie Belle.

Damn, even with my wilderness skills she still managed to track me. I don't think I'm dealing with amateurs here.

That little pony clearly wasn't as harmless as she looked. Plus, she had one of those horns, too; I couldn't overlook the possibility that she might try and probe me. She was pretty tiny, so I was confident I could take her if she was on her own. However, if she had her friends with her...

No, better to just remain in disguise for now. Violence only as a last resort.

I held still, perfectly rigid, arms upright. I tried to empty my mind and become one with nature, just like John Redcorn (or the Indian in the movie, I forget which one) had taught me.

I am a tree...

The underbrush rustled just head of me, and a moment later a little white unicorn stepped through. She stared at me for several seconds. I held perfectly still.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

That was probably a ploy. My disguise was perfect, so I knew she couldn't see me, but she most likely could sense that I was nearby. I wasn't about to allow her to lure me out. I continued to hold perfectly still.

She stared at me for several more seconds, her brow wrinkled in confusion. Finally, she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"Look," she said. "We don't have time for... whatever this is. You need to come with me right now, it's not safe out here."

Heh. Like I'd really fall for a simple trick like that.

I continued to hold perfectly still. I was a tree...

"Look, Applejack carried you alllll the way back to the farmhouse, and then allllll the way upstairs, and then Twilight came allllllll the way out to Sweet Apple Acres just to help cure you of your... smoke disease, or whatever it was. And all you did was throw sand in her face and then jump out the window and run away! I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"

She glared at me, but when I didn't respond, she just sighed heavily again.

"You're a really weird guy, Mr. Rusty," she said. "You need to come back with me and apologize to Applejack and Twilight."

I'm a tree...

She grunted.

"As in... right now?"

I'm a tree...

Sweetie Belle sighed, rolled her eyes, and then trotted around behind me. I felt her little head pushing against the backs of my legs as she tried to nudge me forward.

Won't work. I'm a tree...

For an extraterrestrial, she didn't seem all that strong. After pushing at me for a few seconds and getting nowhere, she gave out an exasperated grunt and then trotted away, muttering to herself.

Heh, looks like I foiled her. You have to get up pretty early in the morning if you want to get one over on a Gribble...

Suddenly, I heard the sound of tiny galloping hooves approaching from behind. A moment later something tiny, hard and faintly sharp collided with the back of my knee. The force was enough to knock me off balance.

"Whoa..."

I wavered back and forth for a split second and then fell forward into the dirt. I rolled over onto my back. Sweetie Belle immediately hopped onto my chest and stood glaring down at me.

"There," she said. "Are you happy now? Come on, get up. We have to get back before the sun goes down."

So, she got one over on a Gribble, did she? I wonder what time she got up this morning?

"My disguise didn't even fool you for a second, did it?" I said out loud. She clambered off my chest and sat down on her haunches as I pulled myself to my feet.

She raised her eyebrow.

"Disguise? What were you pretending to be?"

I brushed myself off. The front of my jumpsuit was completely caked in mud, but I could at least get rid of some of the pine needles.

"Doesn't matter. You're a worthy adversary, Sweetie Belle, I'll give you that much."

"Uh... thanks?"

Reflexively I reached for a smoke, and then remembered my situation. I felt a twinge of anxiety. Whatever "Twilight" had done to me was still working for now, but I couldn't imagine it would last much longer. As soon as "the craving" set in, I'd be incapacitated again, and then it was every man and pony for himself. Whatever else was going to happen, I needed to get myself some smokes.

Meanwhile Sweetie Belle was looking me up and down, taking in my mud-caked jumpsuit and the twigs stuffed into my cuffs and pockets. She sighed heavily for the third time.

"You're a really weird guy, Mr. Rusty," she said again. "Anyway, come on, we need to get going. You can't just wander around in the Everfree Forest by yourself, especially after dark."

She turned away from me, peering back into the underbrush she'd emerged from.

Heh, thought I'd been subdued and it was safe to let your guard down, eh? Well I've still got my secret weapon...

"Alright, let's see," she said, half to herself. "I think I remember which way we came in. If we just follow that path we should make it back to Sweet Apple Acres before sunset—"

"POCKET SAND!!"

As she turned back towards me, I unleashed a fresh round of the Gribble School's finishing technique, right into the little pony's face.

"Hey!" she protested. She stood blinking in confusion, rubbing her muzzle and spitting out sand. "Not again! Why do you keep doing that—"

"Shishishaw!"

I hissed triumphantly, and took off running into the woods.

"Hey, get back here!" she cried out behind me. "Didn't you hear what I said?!? Grrr!"

As I crashed through the woods, I could hear the sound of panting and tiny hooves galloping after me.

Damn, that is one tenacious little alien....

The shadows were getting longer, the light filtering through the canopy overhead getting thinner. If I could last until nightfall, darkness would give me the cover I'd need.

That little alien horse had no idea who she was dealing with.

6: Alone in the Dark

Gribble's Log
Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown

The darkness of the forest closes in around me. It is cold, damp, menacing, and filled with unseen terrible creatures, like the space behind my basement refrigerator. Even obscured by trees, the sky looks different than the sky over Arlen that I know and love. These stars are unfamiliar to me. There can no longer be any doubt: I have left my home planet behind.

There is still much that I do not understand. These extraterrestrial horse-creatures appear to have taken me to their home world for study and/or dissection. This bodes well for my friends and family and fellow beloved Arlenites, as it would suggest they have NOT been invaded and colonized by an evil race of bloodthirsty pastel horses. At least not yet. This discovery does not, however, bode well for the possibility of my acquiring smokes.

I write these last hasty sentences by the light of my trusty Zippo, which, if the website I bought it from is to be believed, was once a prized possession of one Lee Harvey Oswald. If there is any possibility of obtaining smokes on this planet, I must conserve fuel. As such, I unfortunately must forego further entries in this journal until sunrise, assuming I survive that long. Also, I keep burning my fingers.

In the event that I should perish, cold and alone on this hostile alien world, I make the following bequests:

To my friend, Hank Rutherford Hill, I bequeath one (1) Mason Allegro X9J Riding Lawnmower, codename "Redeemer."

To my friend, Jeffrey Dexter Boomhauer, I bequeath one (1) 1992 Dodge Grand Caravan, hereafter referred to as the "Bugabago."

To my friend, Sgt. William Fontaine de la Tour Dauterive, I bequeath one (1) cannister of pure alien urine, which he has on more than one occasion mistaken for a cannister of barbicide, as well as the four (4) Molly Hatchet albums in my possession. I also grant Sgt. Dauterive full custody of my colony of Peruvian hissing cockroaches, as I believe his home to be an environment to which the roaches would readily adapt.

My Oswald Zippo I request be used to light my pyre, and subsequently burned along with my remains, assuming said remains are intact upon discovery.

Signed but not notarized,
Dale Alvin Grib—

"Ow! Dammit, I burned my fingers again."

I snapped the lighter closed and returned both it and my journal to the pocket of my jumpsuit. I got up off of the log I'd been sitting on and gazed skyward.

"Alright, stars," I said aloud. "Which one of you is the North Star?"

For the hundredth time, I reflexively reached into my pocket, only to remember that I still had no smokes. The horse-creature's strange treatment had lasted much longer than I'd expected, which came as a pleasant surprise. However, I still found it difficult to think without a cigarette in my hand.

"What in Equestria are you doing now?!?"

"AARGH!!"

I yelped in surprise as a shrill little voice suddenly penetrated the dark silence of the forest behind me. Attempting to wheel around and face my pursuer, I stumbled on a tree root and fell on my backside. A now-familiar little white horse trotted out of the shadows and stood in a pool of moonlight on the grass.

"So," I said. "It appears you've finally caught me. I didn't think you'd be able to track me this far."

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.

"Track you? You've been stomping around talking to yourself for, like, ever! The whole forest probably knows you're here."

I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees.

"Are you going to finish me off then? Or will you take me back to your hive, for debriefing and eventual dissection?"

She stamped her hoof and grunted.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! All I know is I've been chasing you around for hours now! I'm tired, and I'm hungry, and I'm—"

She cut herself off and stared sullenly behind her into the forest.

"...and I don't know where we are," she admitted finally. "I don't think I can find my way back on my own."

She took a step towards me, her tiny horn lighting up. Instinctively I scrambled backward, bumping up against a tree. Some pine needles drifted down, landing on my shoulders and the brim of my hat.

Is this where it ends? I won't go down without a fight...

When she saw my expression, she immediately stopped her approach and doused her horn.

"Please, Mr. Rusty," she said wearily. "I don't want to keep chasing you around. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Just please stop running away."

I brushed the pine needles off of my hat, watching her carefully. Now that I could see her up close, she didn't look all that menacing. Mostly she just looked exhausted, and maybe a little bit frightened. For the first time, I noticed how tiny she really was. Her stance was pathetic; she had left herself wide open. I could get the drop on her pretty easily, I realized, subdue her quickly and run away. However, I also realized that I was pretty exhausted myself, and I didn't really want to keep running.

"What do you ponies want with me, anyway?" I demanded.

"We don't want anything! Honest! I just... you looked like you were sick or something. We were just trying to help."

Her voice was quavering a little.

My hand reached instinctively for my non-existent smokes again, then pulled back.

"That purple one, the one with the horn like yours. What was her deal?"

Sweetie Belle looked confused.

"Wait, do you mean Twilight?"

I nodded.

"She used some kind of tractor beam on me."

Sweetie Belle looked even more confused.

"A tractor?"

Neither of us said anything for awhile.

"Listen, Sweetie Belle, if that is your real name," I began. "I don't know how you're mixed up in all of this, but you want me to trust you, right?"

She nodded.

"Well before I trust you, I need some answers."

"Okay..."

I cleared my throat.

"I have experience dealing with all manner of alien life, and I have never encountered your species before. To my knowledge, I have never wronged the ponies of the mighty Horse Planet, and yet, during a routine fumigation, I was knocked unconscious and abducted against my will. I awakened in your world, alone and without smokes, where I was promptly arrested and brought before your Overlord, the one you call 'Twilight'. If you want me to trust you, you must answer the following: One, why was I brought here? Two, what are the coordinates of this planet? Three, is there anywhere nearby where I could purchase some type of cigarette? They don't even have to be Manitobas, I will literally smoke anything you've got."

Sweetie Belle just stared at me.

"Well......" she began finally. "I......... don't really understand anything you're talking about. But it sounds like you came from someplace pretty far away. You said you were... what was it? A duck?"

"Abducted."

"Right. Well, I definitely didn't have anything to do with that, and neither did any of my friends. I'm pretty sure Twilight and Applejack didn't either. If we scared you though, I'm really really sorry. And Twilight isn't an overload, but she is really smart. If anypony could figure out who it was that... that duck-tied you... it would definitely be her."

She frowned slightly.

"But, uh, if you want her to help you, you should probably apologize for throwing sand at her first."

I scratched my chin, considering everything the little horse had told me. She sounded sincere. And until I could learn more about where I was and how I could get home, I needed someone I could trust. Someone on the inside, who understood this world.

I narrowed my eyes.

"And if I come with you, do you swear you're not going to probe me?"

Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow.

"Probe you? What does that mean?"

Briefly I explained the procedure to her. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Eew! Why would I want to do that?"

Suddenly, a low, distant howl cut through the silence around us. Sweetie Belle moved closer to me, her head darting around, trying to peer into the forest by the dim light of her horn.

"W-what was that?"

The howl came again. I scratched my chin, listening.

"Hmmm," I mused. "It sounds like it could be a wolf. Or possibly a WEREwolf."

Sweetie looked up at me, her eyes wide with alarm.

"A where-wolf? What's that?"

"I've dealt with them before, both as an exterminator and as an investigator of the paranormal. They can be a handful sometimes."

I stood up.

"We should probably get moving."

Sweetie Belle looked up at me eagerly.

"So, do you think you can get us back to Ponyville?"

"Ma'am, I am a licensed professional bounty hunter and I have a hat that will attest to this fact, though I do not have it with me. You may rest assured that I will protect you from any and all werewolves while you remain in my company. I will, however, need you to solemnly swear that neither you nor this 'Twilight' plan on dissecting me later."

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"Fine, I promise I won't dissect you. Twilight either. Can we go now, please?"

I stared up at the night sky.

"Yes, I just need a moment to get my bearings."

"Okay."

I continued staring at the sky. Sweetie Belle tapped a hoof and swished her tail back and forth. Time passed.

"Um... well?" she asked finally.

"Yes, I just had one question. Do you happen to know which one of these stars is the NORTH star?"

Sweetie groaned.

"You have no idea where we are either, do you?" she asked miserably.

"Uh... not as such, no," I admitted.

The little pony ground her teeth, looking like she wanted to ram me again with her horn. However, another low howl suddenly echoed in the distance, followed by an answering howl from the other side of the forest. She changed her mind, pressing up against my leg instead.

"C-can we just get going please?"

As if in answer, another mournful howl echoed across the forest. It sounded a little closer this time.

7: The Where-Wolves of Ponyville

I stared up at the night sky, deep in concentration.

If only I could figure out where Orion is...

"How long have we been walking?" Sweetie Belle asked wearily.

"About five hours," I replied.

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.

"There's no way it's been that long."

I scratched my chin.

"Say, Sweetie Belle, do you happen to know where Orion is?"

She just glowered at me.

"Uh, never mind," I said. "Let's just keep moving."

My tiny horse companion seemed tired and afraid. I was feeling a little worn-down myself. Whatever else happened, we had to make it out of this forest.

"I think there's a way out just through those trees over there," I said, pointing toward a shadowy opening not far ahead.

"That's what you said the last time, and it was just more trees!" She sounded like she was about to start crying. "Can we please just get out of here, Mr. Rusty? My sister is probably getting worried."

I glanced down at Sweetie Belle. Her marshmallow coat was smeared with dirt, and her mane was disheveled and stuck all over with brambles and pine needles.

Dammit, this little pony is counting on me. If only I could find Orion...

I sighed. For all I knew, we were on Orion.

Wait, is Orion a planet? Or is it a star? Damn National Geographic channel.

We trudged wearily through the opening in the trees, and found ourselves in a broad clearing. I noticed a weird-looking pile of sticks lying near the center. For some reason, it gave me a creepy feeling.

"Say, what's that?" I asked.

For a moment I thought it was the remains of someone's campfire. There were two glowing spots in the center of it, like embers. I lifted up my clip-on sunglasses so I could get a better look.

Huh, I probably should have taken these off earlier. It's much easier to see in the dark now.

Meanwhile, the bundle of sticks in front of me seemed to be moving. The two glowing points moved sharply upward. A long howl emanated from the center of the bush.

Sweetie Belle squeaked in alarm and darted behind my legs.

"T-timber wolves!" she cried.

The pile of sticks moved again. Overhead, a cloud moved away from the moon, casting the sticks in a pale glow. The pile had assumed the shape of a large wolf.

"Th-they're all around us..." Sweetie whispered.

Sure enough, I counted five of the strange wooden wolves forming a semicircle in front of us. To our backs was the thick growth we'd just crawled out of. We could try to make a dash for it, but I had a feeling that if we did, they'd be on us before we even made it halfway across the clearing.

Sweetie poked her head around from behind my legs.

"W-what should we do?"

I dropped into a tiger stance. Or maybe it was a dragon stance. I always get those two mixed up. Also, I'm not sure if either of them are real stances. In any case, I dropped into some kind of stance.

"I eat wolves like you for breakfast," I said. "'Least I would, 'cept I don't want to get splinters in my teeth. Shishishaw!"

The wolves tensed. Whatever they had instead of hackles were probably standing on edge.

"C-can you really handle them all?" whispered Sweetie. "What's your plan?"

I thought for a moment, then suddenly I slammed my fist into my palm.

"I just got it!"

Sweetie looked up hopefully.

"Timber wolves! It's like they're wolves, but they're made out of timb―YAAAAGH!!"

I let out a high-pitched shriek as something large and heavy crashed into me from the left. I went head over heels, rolling over a few times, and when I looked up, one of the wooden wolves was staring me in the face, growling.

It gnashed its teeth at me. I managed to move my head just in time, and it took a large bite out of the ground. Some kind of greenish-blue light flashed somewhere in the periphery of my vision, and a small stone hit the wolf in the cheek.

"Get away from him!" Sweetie Belle yelled defiantly.

The wolf clenched its teeth and lowered its body to the ground, turning its attention toward the little pony. It looked ready to pounce.

I grabbed a handful of sand from the ground next to me and flung it in the creature's eyes.

"Regular sand!"

It howled in frustration. Another small rock from Sweetie Belle hit it in the shoulder, and a few sticks dropped off of its body. I aimed a kick at one of its hind legs. The leg snapped in half, and the wolf collapsed to the ground just as I rolled out from under it.

Sweetie Belle came running toward me as I clambered to my feet. She just barely dodged the snapping jaws of another wolf.

"Look out!" I yelled.

Another wolf came barreling in from the side. Sweetie shrieked and rolled to the ground just as it sprang for her. It went sailing over her head and collided with a tree, its body breaking apart into sticks.

Meanwhile, the wolf that had pounced on me was trying to get to its feet. I picked up one of the rocks that Sweetie had thrown and hurled it. I hit him dead center in the chest. The wolf weaved drunkenly from side to side, snapping its jaws at the air, and then it collapsed into a pile of sticks, the green flame of its eyes extinguished.

That's two down...

I ran to where Sweetie Belle was as she scrambled back onto her hooves. Two more wolves were approaching from the side, growling, crouched as if ready to spring.

"What do we do, Mr. Rusty?!?"

"You got any more alien tricks you can do with that horn?"

"N-no, not really..."

"Then we should probably RUN!!"

I scooped her up off the ground as I ran past. Both wolves pounced at the same time. I dropped to the ground and rolled, clutching the little pony to my chest, and they crashed into each other, raining sticks and bramble onto my back.

Back on my feet, I dove through a gap in the trees, out of the clearing and back into the woods. I could hear the last wolf sprinting after us, its joints making an eerie clicking sound as it ran.

Sweetie Belle was heavier than she looked, and it was hard to run while carrying her. I didn't have to worry about it for too long, though, as I suddenly lost my footing, and we went rolling down the side of a steep hill.

We rolled faster and faster, twigs and thistles cutting through the fabric of my jumpsuit. My arms and legs felt like they were being shredded. Sweetie Belle's high-pitched shrieking was threatening to break my eardrums. I did my best to shield her with my body as we rolled.

Somewhere, I lost my grip on her and she went flying. Suddenly, I collided with something soft and wet. My face was buried in mud. At least I hoped it was mud.

I flailed my arms around. I could feel water splashing around me. Struggling for a few seconds, I finally managed to roll over onto my back. I wiped the mud from my glasses, and saw a clear sky filled with stars above me. No tree branches were blocking the view.

I still couldn't see the North Star. Or Orion. But it looked like we were finally out of the woods.

I sat up. It seemed like we'd landed in a small, shallow pond at the base of a tall hill. Further up the slope, menacing skeletal trees reached out with their branches, like they wanted to grab us and pull us back in. A few frustrated howls echoed from somewhere inside.

I turned to look in the opposite direction. The dim lights of what looked like a town were twinkling in the distance.

There was a splashing sound, and I saw Sweetie Belle wading towards me through the pond. She was covered in mud and muck, and her legs were shaking, but she didn't look hurt.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"I think so."

She plopped down in the mud next to me, and we sat looking up at the stars in silence. We were both breathing hard, and I realized I was completely exhausted. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in this pond and go to sleep.

"Um, can we not tell anypony about the timber wolves?" she asked suddenly. "My sister will totally freak out if she finds out what happened."

"Okay.”

Neither of us said anything more for a good, long while. The night was cool and still. The unfamiliar stars were twinkling up above. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped.

I heard the soft clip-clopping of hooves on packed earth, and I turned to see a faint pink glow. Slowly I rose to my feet. I was covered in mud, my jumpsuit was almost completely shredded, and every part of my body was sore. The pink glow drew closer. Then, the darkness parted and that purple alien horse stepped into view.

"Twilight!"

Sweetie Belle squeaked with delight and ran towards her. Twilight frowned, examining Sweetie's matted, muddy coat and mane. Then she took a look at me.

"You're both filthy," she said. “What happened to you?"

"We... uh... we got lost in the Everfree Forest," stammered Sweetie Belle.

"Heh. Yeah, we noticed. Y'all were mostly goin' in circles."

Applejack emerged from the darkness behind Twilight, still wearing the hat that had unsettled me so. My relief evaporated as I suddenly realized that I'd only succeeded in getting myself re-captured by the very aliens I'd been trying to escape.

Why would a pony be wearing a cowboy hat? I wondered again. And why are the werewolves on this planet made out of wood?

Nothing made any sense to me, and I still had many questions. But I was tired. So very tired. My eyelids felt like they had lead weights tied to them.

I put my hands up slowly.

"I have decided to surrender peacefully," I mumbled.

The two larger ponies gave me a puzzled glance. Then they looked at each other. Twilight shrugged.

"Anyway," Applejack went on, as though I hadn't spoken. "Y'all are lucky you didn't get too far into that forest. You really shouldn't go wanderin' around in there after dark. If y'all had gotten much further in you could of been in a heap of trouble."

"What do you mean we didn't get very far?" demanded Sweetie Belle. "We were walking for miles and miles!"

Applejack looked amused.

"Uh, not really, sugar cube. Like I said, y'all were mostly goin' in circles. We were followin' your trail for awhile, but then you went off the path into some nasty-looking brambles, and... well, we figured you'd end up around here somewhere eventually, so we decided to try and head you off."

She looked us over, still smirking a little.

"I'm guessin' you're done playin' for the evenin'?"

"Ow!"

I felt a sharp kick in my shin, and looked down to see Sweetie Belle scowling at me. Applejack sniggered.

"I'll go 'head and take that as a yes. Anyway, I figure it's about time to be gettin' on home. Y'all had better come back to the farm first and wash up, you know how that Rarity hates muddy hooves."

"Yeah..."

Sweetie shot me one last angry glare, then trudged sulkily away after Twilight and Applejack.

Applejack glanced over her shoulder.

"Uh, you comin', Mr. Rusty? Or were you plannin' to sleep out in the woods tonight?"

I looked at the three ponies, and then back at the menacing outline of the forest on top of the hill.

"I'll come quietly."

For now.

I fell in line behind the three ponies. We trudged along through the grass in silence. A low howl echoed from the woods behind us, but it was faint. Ahead, the lights of a town called "Ponyville" were getting brighter and closer.

8: Stranger in a Strange Land

Gribble's Log
Location: Ponyville, Equestria. Galaxy unknown.
Five Days Post Abduction

I have successfully infiltrated the aliens' society and am working on gaining their trust. The one called Twilight Sparkle, who I mistook for their queen, has taken me in and allowed me to stay with her for the time being. She lives in a giant tree, which seems like a strange place for a horse to live, but there is much about these creatures that I do not understand.

The more time I spend on this strange planet, which the locals call "Equestria," the more questions I have. Why and how was I brought here? What's become of my beloved Arlen, and my family back on Earth? What's been going on in the alley since I've been gone? Alas, though these strange pastel-colored aliens are unusually friendly and helpful for a race of hostile alien invaders, they are unable or unwilling to provide me with the answers I seek.

I remain a stranger in a strange land, and have no choice but to watch. And wait.

"Manitoba."

The pony just stared at me, a confused look on her face.

"Manitoba cigarettes."

"I'm really sorry sir, but I have no idea what that is."

I stared at the goods she had on display at her little stand. All sorts of farm-fresh produce could be had for a pittance, but there was no sweet life-sustaining tobacco anywhere to be found.

Oh well, it was worth a try.

"How much for that asparagus?"

She looked at where I was pointing.

"Two bits, sir."

I continued to stare at the asparagus. The pony behind the counter began to fidget uncomfortably.

"Um, if you don't want anything, could you please move? There's a whole line of ponies behind you."

I glanced over my shoulder. One of the mares gave me an icy look and tapped her hoof impatiently.

"Alright," I said. "Gimme some asparagus."

I placed two bits down on the counter, and a moment later I was leaving the shop, carrying a few stalks in my hand.

There was an empty Manitoba soft-pack in the breast pocket of my shirt. I'd found it later that first night, at the very bottom of one of my pockets, buried under a lot of sand. I had long since sucked out the last of the tobacco dust, but I couldn't bring myself to throw the pack away.

Oh, my sweet lady Manitoba. I will hold you again someday, I swear it.

As I walked, I began to break the asparagus stalks into even-sized pieces about the size of a finger. Ponies glanced at me as I passed by. A few of them whispered to each other.

One by one, I slipped the asparagus stalks into the empty cigarette pack. I put the last one in my mouth. Then I pulled my Oswald Zippo out of my pocket, and held the flame to the tip of the asparagus stalk, singing it slightly. I inhaled. Several ponies were staring openly at me now. I stared back, and they turned and trotted quickly away.

My Dale's Dead Bug jumpsuit had been torn to shreds during my escape from the woods, so I was back to my usual work shirt and jeans. My journal had thankfully survived. I pulled it out of my shirt pocket and made a few quick notes, puffing idly on my asparagus stalk as I wrote:

In the 1950s, under a top-secret project known as MKUltra, the CIA was known to have experimented with mind control techniques and psychoactive drugs. These experiments permanently altered the perceptions and behavior of their unwitting test subjects. I can only assume that the ponies of Equestria have a similar program, and that I am their guinea pig.

Twilight Sparkle, a codename if ever I've heard one, has used her telekinetic mind powers to cast what she calls a "spell" on me. As unsettling as I find her abilities, I must admit that she's found a good workaround for my problem. She has somehow tricked my brain into believing that asparagus stalks are cigarettes. The illusion is so perfect that, so long as I have a supply of asparagus handy, I need no longer suffer the effects of nicotine withdrawal.

She also claims that asparagus will prove to be a healthier vice than cigarettes, though I have dismissed this as propaganda from the Equestrian vegetable-industrial complex.

I looked up, and noticed that a young foal was staring curiously at me.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

I took the asparagus-cig out of my mouth and exhaled a puff of imaginary smoke.

"What are you doing?"

Her mother gave me a sour look, and quickly whisked the foal away.

I continued making my way through the streets of Ponyville. The place looked like some kind of medieval village, complete with straw-thatched roofs and unpaved streets. The layout was confusing, but I was slowly learning my way around.

Soon I was back at the treehouse. It looked like the kind of place the Keebler Elves would live in. The door was made for a pony, so I had to stoop to get in, but once inside it was surprisingly roomy.

"Oh, hi Mr. Rusty."

Twilight's dragon friend Spike was sitting on a couch in the main room of the library. I still hadn't quite figured out what the deal with him was. She called him a friend, but to me it seemed like he was something between a pet and a slave.

"What did you buy at the market?"

"Asparagus. Want some?"

Spike made a face.

"Yecch, no thanks. I'll stick with gems."

He took another ruby out of the bowl he was holding, and tossed it into his mouth. He downed a few more in quick succession.

"Want one?"

"I'll try one."

I put the gem he handed me into my mouth. It was hard, and pointy, and I couldn't really chew it. It tasted pretty awful, too. I wasn't quite sure how or why he managed to eat these things. I took it out of my mouth and slipped it into my pocket.

"I'll eat it later."

Spike shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he said, and then wandered off towards the kitchen, popping rubies into his mouth as he went.

Weird guy.

I heard the sound of hoofsteps on the stairs.

"Oh, good, Mr. Rusty. You're home."

Twilight Sparkle was coming down the staircase, levitating some books with her creepy alien powers.

"I found some more books for you," she continued. "There's an introductory volume on the History of Equestria that I think you'll like. I also found my old civics text from when I was a school filly. You wanted to know more about Equestrian law and that should give you the broad strokes."

Warily, I stuck my hands into the glowing pink aura surrounding her horn, and took the stack of books. I could feel a tingle of energy, like a mild electric current, running through my body.

"Thanks."

Several awkward seconds of silence passed.

"Oh! I remember what else I was going to tell you," said Twilight. "I talked to Cheerilee at the school, and she says it would be fine for you to join her class for a little while. I think it would be a good way for you to learn about life in Equestria, and maybe even make a few friends."

Why does this alien horse want me to make friends so badly?

She'd brought up the subject several times before, and I was naturally wary. At the same time, attending their school could give me some useful insight into their civilization.

"School, huh?" I put the asparagus stalk back in my mouth and took a long, thoughtful puff. "Alright. Tell her I'll be there."

10: Do Android Foals Dream of Electric Cutie Marks?

"Hey Mr. Rusty! You can eat with us if you want!"

Apple Bloom was waving her hoof at me. I crossed the schoolyard to where the little yellow filly and her friends were sitting in the shade of an oak tree. Scootaloo, the little pegasus with the stunted wings, was munching an apple, and she greeted me with a nod. Sweetie Belle scowled and looked away.

I sat down on the grass.

"You guys mind if I smoke?"

Apple Bloom looked at Scootaloo with a confused expression. Scootaloo shrugged.

"Uh... I guess not," she said.

I reached into my pack and pulled out a fresh asparagus stalk. I was running a little low; I'd have to pick some more up on my way home from school. I flipped open my lighter and singed the tip.

"Asparagus?"

I turned my head to see Sweetie Belle glaring at me. It was the first thing she had said to me since our night in the woods.

"That's what smokes are? You made all that trouble just over some dumb asparagus?"

I took a puff.

"Uh, well, it's actually a little more complicated than that..."

Sweetie Belle wasn't listening.

"If that was all you needed you could have just said so!" she continued, stamping her hoof. "Apple Bloom's family has an entire cupboard full of asparagus! We didn't even need to leave the farm—"

"So uh, you're staying at Twilight's place, right Mr. Rusty?" Apple Bloom interjected quickly. "What did she give you for lunch?"

Sweetie Belle looked like she had more that she wanted to say, but instead she just took an enormous bite out of her apple. She chewed noisily and glared at the grass in front of her.

"Lunch?"

My stomach gurgled, and I realized I'd completely forgotten to pack a lunch. I rummaged around in my pockets, but all I had on me were a few asparagus stalks and the gem from the previous day.

I took out the gem and studied it. Gems on this planet did look sort of appetizing, kind of like hard candy. Maybe this one had ripened up a bit.

I put it in my mouth and tried to chew. Nope, it was still hard. There had to be a trick to eating these things...

Scootaloo burst out laughing.

"Did Spike pack your lunch or something? Only dragons can eat gems!"

I slid the gem back into my pocket. My stomach grumbled again. Apple Bloom gave me a pitying look.

"Here, Mr. Rusty, my sister packed me a bunch of extra apples today. You can take a couple if you want."

She upended her saddlebag, and several juicy-looking red and green apples came tumbling out. One of them rolled past Scootaloo, who quickly snapped it up in her jaws and began to chew. I picked up a large green one and looked it over cautiously.

"Don't you like apples, Mr. Rusty?" Apple Bloom was watching me with a curious expression. "Sorry, guess I don't know what sooners usually eat."

I inspected the apple carefully, and sniffed it. I still couldn't rule out the possibility that the ponies were intentionally drugging my food, but on the other hand, these three seemed harmless enough. Besides, my stomach was still growling.

"It's fine."

I took a bite of the apple. It was surprisingly juicy and sweet. Whatever the ponies did to the apples here, they tasted a lot better than Earth ones. I took another bite and chewed.

A noise at the other end of the schoolyard caught my attention. That pink and white filly with the transmitter on her head was laughing about something the little grey one had said. Scootaloo noticed where I was looking.

"Don't let Diamond Tiara get under your skin too much," she advised.

"Yeah, those two are like that to everypony," chimed in Apple Bloom. "'Specially the new foals."

She looked at me, probably realizing that even sitting down I was still much taller than she was.

"Or... you know. Whatever," she finished, a little lamely.

I took another bite of my apple.

"What's the other one's name?"

"You mean Silver Spoon?" Scootaloo made a little gagging motion with her hoof, and Apple Bloom giggled. "You don't need to worry about her. She's just Diamond Tiara's sidekick or whatever."

I continued to chew thoughtfully. I had, of course, figured out that Silver Spoon was probably a robot and/or a cyborg, which her "friend" Diamond Tiara could control using the transmitter. It was no surprise that these three foals hadn't picked up on it, though. Maybe I could find a way to ease them into the truth without shocking them too much...

I pointed at the pink filly.

"What's that thing on her head?" I asked.

Apple Bloom squinted.

"You mean Diamond Tiara's diamond tiara?"

"Yeah. No one else here has one. What's it do?"

"Do?" Scootaloo was rubbing her chin. "Guess I've never really thought about it before. She wears it all the time, though."

Apple Bloom furrowed her brow.

"You know, now that you mention it, it is kinda weird," she mused. "I always figured she just wears it 'cause her name's Diamond Tiara, but... I'm not really sure what for. Wonder where she got that thing, anyway?"

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Well, if you really want to know you can just ask her, because here they come."

Sure enough, Diamond Tiara and her little grey cyborg companion were trotting towards us.

"Oh, look, it's Rusty Shackleford," Tiara said mockingly. "And he's already joined the losers club!"

The cyborg next to her giggled. This was most likely a pre-recorded response, designed to be fired off on cue, not unlike the infamous laugh-track machine invented by one Charles "Charley" Douglass in 1953.

I examined the filly as closely as I could without arousing suspicion. I had to admit it was a pretty good skin job: no visible seams, no wires sticking out. The servo motors controlling her movement were so quiet I couldn't even hear them. Even so, I wasn't fooled for a second.

For one thing, she was wearing glasses. Why would a horse need to wear glasses? The very idea was absurd... unless she needed them to pass the Voight-Kampff test.

"He's so weird he'll probably fit right in with these blank flanks," laughed Silver Spoon.

Her speech synthesis was flawless. She must be a masterpiece of Equestrian engineering. It was too bad I'd probably have to destroy her.

"Silver Spoon," I said. "You are in a desert, walking along in the sand, when all of a sudden you look down and see a tortoise crawling towards you."

"A tortoise?" whispered Scootaloo.

"I think he means turtle," Apple Bloom whispered back.

"You reach down," I continued. "you flip the tortoise over on its back. The tortoise lies on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun—"

"That's mean," Silver Spoon interrupted. "Why would I want to do that to your mother?"

She and Diamond Tiara both laughed.

"—it lies on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over—"

"Sounds like his mother needs to lose some weight!" said Diamond Tiara.

They both laughed again, and began trotting away.

"We'll see you blank-flanks later," called out Silver Spoon over her shoulder. "Have fun with Rusty Shackleford, he seems like a real winner!"

I finished the last bite of my apple, then I put the asparagus stalk back in my mouth. I took a long, thoughtful puff, watching the two foals as they headed back toward the little red schoolhouse.

Sweetie Belle grunted.

"Those two are so annoying," she muttered.

I felt a pair of hooves pressing into my leg, and I turned to see Apple Bloom looking up at me with a concerned expression.

"You really shouldn't let them get to you, Mr. Rusty," she said. "I promise most ponies in Ponyville are a lot nicer than they are!"

"Yeah, don't let them ruin your vacation," Scootaloo advised, "or your journey to study us, or whatever you said. Just ignore them and eventually they'll leave you alone."

"Yeah. Those two are kind of..."

Apple Bloom glanced back towards Spoon and Tiara, as if searching for the right word.

"...special," she finished. Her two friends nodded.

"You mean short-bus special?" I asked. "Or do you mean...... cyborg replicant special?"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo exchanged a confused look.

"Uh, the first one I think," said Apple Bloom.

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes, gave an annoyed grunt and rose to her hooves.

"Come on," she said. "We need to get back to class. The bell's gonna ring in a minute."

Sure enough, the school bell began to clang. The foals around the schoolyard were now hurrying back inside.

"Come on, Mr. Rusty!" called Scootaloo over her shoulder as the three of them trotted away.

I sat there for a moment, my attention focused on Silver Spoon as she followed her friend into the schoolhouse, still laughing about something. Then I stood up, took one last puff and ground out my asparagus against the trunk of the tree.

"I'd like to see you take that test without those glasses on."

11: The Upside-Down Ponies of Oklahoma

Gribble's Log
Location: Ponyville Schoolhouse
Day 7
Contd.

I journey deeper and deeper into the heart of the labyrinth. By now it has become clear that this planet is controlled by forces so sinister that it would shock even the puppeteers that govern my home world. The youth of this world are fed audacious lies to keep them ignorant and pliable; lies that were no doubt crafted by the two evil Princesses from their fortress in a place called Canterlot.

And yet... what if it's not all lies? The suggestion that ponies can control the weather at first glance seems absurd, and yet just this morning I watched a blue pegasus move clouds around the sky, seemingly at will. If weather manipulation is truly something of which the horse-people are capable, then the complete terraforming of Earth may not be far off. Most likely, the resources of the horse planet have been mined to depletion, and Celestia needs to invade and colonize other worlds in order to perpetuate her brutal galactic regime.

The cyborg, the one called "Silver Spoon," may have valuable information stored in her memory banks. I need to gain access.

"Uh, Mr. Rusty? Class is over."

I looked up from my scribbling to see Apple Bloom standing beside my desk, watching me curiously. I glared at her, and stuffed the notebook back into my pocket. She scratched the back of her neck with a forehoof and cleared her throat.

"So, uh, anyway, we usually go back to our clubhouse to search for our cutie marks after school. You're welcome to join us, if you want."

"Cutie marks, eh..."

I stood up and glanced around. The bell had just rung, but the schoolhouse had emptied out rather quickly. There was no sign of Diamond Tiara and her little cyborg friend. I'd been focused on my writing, so they had probably taken advantage of the distraction and slipped past me. I'd have to catch up to them later.

Meanwhile, the little yellow filly was looking eagerly up at me with those big, weird, bulbous eyes of hers. Even the most battle-hardened soldier of fortune would have had a hard time saying no to that face, and in any event a plan was beginning to take shape in my mind. I needed someone... no, somepony, that I could trust, and so far these three seemed like the best option I had.

I nodded, and followed Apple Bloom out to the schoolyard. Her two friends were waiting underneath the oak tree where we'd eaten lunch.

We made our way south along the old dirt road that led away from the town, thick apple orchards closing in on all sides, isolating us. Sweetie Belle still seemed to be in a bad mood, and was pointedly ignoring me. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo trotted a few paces ahead, chattering gaily about the day's lesson.

So young, so naive, I thought to myself. Not a care in the world, completely oblivious to what's right in front of their eyes.

It almost felt like a crime to shatter that innocence, but I had no choice.

When we'd gotten far enough away from the school that I was certain we'd be out of surveillance range, I stopped suddenly in my tracks.

"Your government is lying to you," I said.

The three fillies stopped their chatter and turned to look at me. I pulled my last asparagus stalk out of the pack and lit it.

"What government? What are you talking about?"

Sweetie Belle sounded annoyed, but I thought I saw a gleam of curiosity in her eye. That was a good sign. I took a deep puff, and then exhaled.

"Think about it. Your teacher just told us that the sun and moon move by magic, right?"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo exchanged a confused look.

"Well, yeah, o'course," said Apple Bloom. "Princess Celestia raises the sun and Princess Luna raises the moon. Everypony knows that."

She looked to her friends for confirmation, and they both nodded.

Poor, ignorant little fillies.

I just hoped the truth wouldn't break them.

"Do you have any idea how heavy the sun is?" I demanded. "It probably weighs thousands of pounds. Even if you had a tractor beam powerful enough to move it around, it'd probably screw up your planet's orbit. Granted, the moon would probably be a lot easier to move, but it would still have a pretty bad effect on the tides if you did."

All three fillies scrunched up their brows in unison. They stared blankly at each other, then blankly back at me.

"Tides?" said Apple Bloom.

"Orbut?" said Scootaloo. "You mean like... the sound a frog makes?"

She made a low croaking sound in the back of her throat, which made Apple Bloom giggle. Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle huffed and pointed her front hoof up at the sky.

"The sun is right up there," she said. "I don't know how much it weighs, but there it is, just moving across the sky, like it does every day."

I took another puff.

"And you think this 'Princess Celestia' is the one moving it?"

"Well, yeah," said Apple Bloom. "I mean, how else would it move?"

The other two nodded sagely, as if this were the most sensible thing they'd ever heard.

"So the Princess just sits there, all day, moving the sun around?" I pressed. "She doesn't do anything else? When does she sleep?"

From the look Sweetie Belle gave me, you'd think I'd just pulled out a bowl of crickets and started eating them with a spoon.

"Um... at night? When everypony else goes to sleep?"

"Yeah," added Apple Bloom. "I mean, the sun's gone at night, so she doesn't really need to move it again until morning."

"So then what does she do when she has to eat?" I asked. "Or go to the bathroom? Does the sun just stop moving until she's finished?"

Scootaloo was scratching her chin and staring thoughtfully into the distance.

"Huh, that's actually a pretty good question," she mused. "Maybe we should ask Miss Cheerilee about that tomorrow..."

Sweetie Belle scoffed at that.

"You're going to ask Miss Cheerilee what happens to the sun when Princess Celestia goes to the bathroom?"

Scootaloo reddened slightly.

"Well, I mean..."

This conversation was beginning to go off-track. I cleared my throat.

"So then, where does the sun go every night when the Princess lowers it, huh?"

"Uh... under the ground I guess?"

Sweetie Belle looked to Apple Bloom, who could only shrug helplessly.

"And it just sits there for hours and hours, in one place? Until Celestia wakes up and raises it again? Don't the ponies on the other side of the world ever wonder why it's always either high noon or nighttime?"

The three fillies looked genuinely puzzled now.

"There are... ponies... on the other side of... the ground?" asked Sweetie Belle.

"How would that even work?" asked Scootaloo. "I mean, do they walk upside down, or..."

She trailed off, frowning, looking lost in thought again.

"Hey, maybe that's where Oklahoma is!" exclaimed Apple Bloom.

"Hey, yeah!" Scootaloo's face brightened. "That would explain why Mr. Rusty's so tall!"

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Well, I mean... here, watch this!"

She spat suddenly at a neaby tree. The glob caught one of the branches and dangled, swaying gently in the breeze. She pointed proudly at it with her hoof.

"See how it gets longer and longer the lower it gets?" she asked. "That's probably how it works in Oklahoma. It's because of that thing... you know, what Miss Cheerilee was talking about last week? I forget what she called it..."

"Oh yeah, what was that thing called...?" Apple Bloom scrunched up her brow. "Grabbity?"

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes again.

"Gravity," she corrected.

"Gravity," repeated Apple Bloom. "Right."

Scootaloo's loogie, still dangling from the tree branch, snapped in two. We all watched as it hit the ground with a soft plop.

Apple Bloom turned suddenly to me.

"Hey Mr. Rusty, if ponies walk upside down in Oklahoma, what keeps them from fallin' off into space?"

Now this conversation was getting really off-track.

So, wait... they know what gravity and space are, but they still think... wait a minute. Now I'm starting to get confused...

Sweetie Belle gave a derisive snort.

"He's just making up stories," she scoffed. "Ponies don't actually walk upside down, that's impossible."

She turned to me, a concerned expression on her face.

"But seriously though, Mr. Rusty. If you don't even know basic stuff like where the sun goes at night, you probably shouldn't be in our grade level."

"Yeah, she's right," agreed Apple Bloom. "You might have trouble keepin' up with the work. I mean, today was just review, we're already way past most of this stuff."

"You want us to help tutor you?" Scootaloo asked.

Before I could answer, I heard a twig snapping somewhere nearby. I froze, listening, and sure enough I could detect the faint sound of clopping hooves and voices coming down the road behind us.

"Hey, Mr. Rusty, are you listening to us—"

"Shishishaw!"

The fillies yelped in surprise as I suddenly scooped up all three of them and dove headfirst into a nearby thicket. Sweetie Belle grunted in protest, spitting out leaves and bramble.

"What are you doing this time—"

"Shhhh," I hissed.

The seriousness in my tone made all three of them lower their voices.

"What is it?" whispered Sweetie Belle fearfully. "Is it... timber wolves?"

"Granny says there ain't no timber wolves this close to the farm," Apple Bloom whispered back, though she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Shhhhhhhh..." I hissed again, and they quited down.

We sat perfectly still, waiting, as I peered out at the road through the bushes. A few seconds later, the voices grew louder as two small horses rounded the bend in the path and came into view.

Sweetie Belle breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Oh, it's just Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon," she whispered.

I hissed sharply at her, and clamped down on her muzzle with my hand. She gave me an annoyed glare but kept quiet.

"—and then I told my Daddy if he didn't buy it for me, I'd never speak to him again—"

"—haha, oh wow, that's great, I'll have to try that with my parents—"

The two fillies' conversation sounded innocent enough, but that was probably just a performance in case they were being watched. In any event, they didn't seem to have caught on to our presence. So long as I could maintain the element of surprise...

I sat perfectly still, watching intently as the two foals ambled past. The three in the bushes with me began to fidget uncomfortably, but they seemed to understand that I needed them to remain quiet.

Diamond and Silver kept walking until they reached a fork in the path, maybe a hundred yards from where we were hiding.

"...anyway, I'll see you tomorrow," said Silver Spoon.

"Sure you don't want to come over for a couple hours?" Diamond Tiara asked.

Spoon shook her head.

"No, sorry, I'm supposed to come home right away. We have that big dinner tonight, and I have to get ready."

Tiara gave a short, derisive laugh.

"As if," she said. "It's just a few politicians from Canterlot nopony even cares about. You can blow that off, right?"

Silver Spoon smiled, but shook her head again.

"Sorry, I can't. It's dumb, but it's really important to my Dad. If I miss this, he probably won't let me go with you on the yacht this weekend."

Diamond Tiara still looked unsatisfied, but she seemed to accept this answer.

"Anyway, I have to go," called Spoon, turning away. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, 'kay?"

Diamond Tiara said something I couldn't make out, and then the two of them went off in separate directions, Tiara continuing along the main path, and Spoon heading off down the fork.

When the sound of their hoofsteps had finally faded into the distance, I let go of the three fillies and we crawled out of the underbrush. Sweetie Belle shot me an irritated look, and grumpily shook a few loose leaves out of her mane.

"I didn't want to run into them either, but did we really need to hide like that?" I heard Scootaloo mutter under her breath.

"Maybe they don't have bullies in Oklahoma," Apple Bloom whispered back. "He might not know how to deal with 'em."

She trotted up to me and cleared her throat.

"Uh, you know, Mr. Rusty," she began. "Bullies ain't really nothin' to be scared of. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon are real annoyin', but they won't hurt you none—"

I wasn't paying attention and didn't catch the rest of what she said. I licked my finger and held it up in the air. Perfect; the wind was blowing the right direction. I probably wouldn't get a chance like this again.

"—Mr. Rusty, are you even listenin' to me?"

I wheeled around so sharply that the three fillies jumped.

"I have to go now," I said. "I must attend to an unrelated matter."

"Wait, Mr. Rusty, we're still goin' to the clubhouse—"

I took off running, and didn't catch the rest of what she said.

13: The Gribble Archipelago

Gribble's Log
Location: Treehouse
Post-Abduction Day 7
Concluded

In hindsight, my judgement of cyborgery in the case of Silver Spoon may have been premature. Though I was unable to conclusively administer the Voight-Kampff test, I must confess that all evidence points to her being some kind of organically synthesized imitation horse created in a government laboratory. Or maybe just a regular horse.

Have decided to abandon this line of inquiry for now. In meantime I will continue to watch. And wait.

"Are you even listening to me?!?"

I looked up from my notebook to see Twilight Sparkle glaring at me. I slid the notebook back into my shirt pocket.

"I am now," I said.

Twilight shot me one last dirty look, and then turned back to Silver Spoon's father.

"Again, I am so sorry about this," she said, in a much softer tone than she'd on me. "I promise it will never happen again."

Silver Spoon's dad narrowed his eyes.

"See that it doesn't," he said, with an arrogant huff. Then, he turned his attention to me. "And you, young... er... whatever you are... you are quite fortunate I've decided not to get the authorities involved. Now if you will please return my daughter's glasses, I'd like to be on my way. I have a very important dinner tonight, with some very important ponies."

I took a puff of asparagus.

"Can't," I said. "Lost 'em."

Twilight made an irritated grunt in the back of her throat, and suddenly I felt a tingling of electricity as that weird pink tractor beam of hers started rummaging around in my shirt. Before I could stop her, she had extracted Silver Spoon's glasses and passed them back to the sour-faced earth pony.

The glasses hovered in front of his face for several seconds as he appraised the cracked lens and bent frames with disapproval. Twilight flashed him a big, goofy, apologetic grin.

"I will, of course, be happy to pay for repairs," she offered.

The earth pony sighed and snatched his daughter's glasses out of Twilight's aura with his front hoof, stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

"Don't bother," he said contemptuously. "By the look of your accomodations, I'd wager you could ill afford it."

And with that, he spun haughtily around and exited the tree library, kicking the door shut behind him. Twilight glared angrily at the space where he'd stood.

I tossed my asparagus stalk onto the floor and ground it out with my shoe.

"He's hiding something," I said.

Twilight wheeled around, turning her angry gaze back on me.

"I don't want to hear another word out of you, buster!"

I felt another tingle of electricity as her tractor beam yanked the asparagus pack out of my shirt pocket.

"My smokes!" I cried in panic as she flung the pack into a nearby cupboard and slammed it closed.

"Shut it, mister!" said Twilight, advancing on me.

I backed slowly away. I had never seen a pint-size horse look this terrifying before. Her horn was glowing and sparkling with ominous alien power, and her eyes were dark, pastel pools of death.

"I don't know how they do things back in Oklahoma," she continued in a huff, "But here in Equestria, we do not go around attacking defenseless school fillies and stealing their glasses!"

I kept backing slowly away from her, until I was pressed up against the door to the cellar. Her tractor beam yanked open the door, and I fell backwards. Her aura caught me before I tumbled down the stairs. I could do nothing but flail my limbs helplessly as she floated me down into the cellar and deposited me on the small cot where I slept.

"Until further notice, you are grounded, Rusty Shackleford!"

Twilight stood at the top of the stairs, silhouetted in the glow from the library. Her horn was still sparkling, and I saw another pink aura cloud floating my way. Then, with a soft plop, a pile of parchment and a quill pen fell onto the mattress beside me.

"Now, you're going to write a long, detailed letter to Princess Celestia, explaining everything you did wrong, and everything this experience has taught you about friendship!" she said. "I expect a first draft by morning. If I like what I'm reading, then you can have your 'smokes' back!"

Before I could raise an objection, the door slammed, and I heard the bolt slide into place.

Gribble's Log
Location: Twilight's Dungeon
First Night in Captivity
0.35 hours without smokes

Not unlike the proverbial butterfly in the Amazon, my actions seem to have caused a ripple effect which has upset the power balance of this world. While I still believe my initial suspicions of cyborgery to have been erroneous, it's clear that my interrogation of the one called "Silver Spoon" has touched a raw nerve. I am clearly getting close to something, and for this reason I am being erased.

Twilight Sparkle has imprisoned me in her sub-arboreal oubliette, where I have been deprived of both smokes and snacking materials. I have also been instructed to write a long letter of confession to the Galactic Empress Celestia. All of this is doubtless some form of psychic torture ripped straight from the pages of Alexandr Solzhenitsyn's Gulag Archipelago; a plot to deprive me of both nicotine and sanity until I have been broken down into a meek and pliable servant of the horse-lord.

All I have to say to her is good luck. She has no idea what sort of Gribblesque forces she's just unleashed.

In spite of the bold words I'd written on the page, I could already feel my hand trembling from the early stages of nicotine withdrawal. Unfortunately, Twilight knew my greatest weakness, and had no qualms about exploiting it. Whatever else happened, I had to find some more asparagus.

I stuffed my notebook back into my shirt pocket, silently cursing myself for not preparing for this eventual situation. Even without Twilight imprisoning me, I'd nearly been left with an empty pack that afternoon. After our narrow escape from old man Spoon, I'd just barely made it to the asparagus stand in town before they closed. If I'd had any sense, I would have bought every last stalk they had well in advance, and created a secret stash down here.

"Calm down, Gribble," I said aloud. "You've been in tougher spots than this."

I took a deep breath and exhaled, once again utilizing John Redcorn's secret new age healing technique. Then, I began a careful exploration of my prison.

To the untrained civilian, this was a perfectly ordinary cellar underneath a unicorn's treehouse. A small, octagonal space made of hard-packed earth and filled with barrels and boxes and other assorted junk. However, to a professional bounty hunter and soldier of fortune like myself, it was practically an arsenal.

In the corner, I found a barrel full of daikon radishes and some spare dishes Twilight had foolishly stashed down here. If I shattered one of the plates, I could use a fragment to sharpen the radishes into spikes. Then, I could dig a makeshift tiger trap at the foot of the stairs, which I would cover with a thin layer of woven straw, extracted from the inside of my mattress. Then, when Twilight came down in the morning to collect the letter, POW! It was all over for her. Meanwhile, using my blanket and the empty radish barrel, I could rig up a filtration system and subsist for days, weeks even, by drinking my own urine—

It was then that I noticed a small window, over a shelf containing several jugs of fresh water and an assortment of shovels and gardening tools.

"Hmm, I wonder..."

I reached up, and sure enough, the latch opened easily. It would have been a tough climb for a little pony, but a biped like myself could easily clamber up the shelves and slide through the opening.

I stroked my chin, smiling, so pleased with my own cunning that I barely noticed the icy tendrils of nicotine withdrawal clawing at the edges of my sanity.

"That's right, Twilight Sparkle," I said aloud. "You have to get up pretty early in the morning if you want to get one over on a Gribble..."

I climbed halfway up the shelves, far enough that I was able to poke my head and shoulders through the window and breathe in the sweet aroma of freedom. I was about to pull myself the rest of the way through, when suddenly I paused, and scrambled back down.

I went back to my cot, and picked up the quill. I dipped it in the ink that Twilight had provided, and scrawled out a message on the parchment:

Dear Princess Celestia:

YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE.

14: Just Because You're Paranoid...

I crawled through the basement window and emerged into the cool evening air. The last glow of daylight was fading away from the sky, and on the far horizon the moon was rising. Behind me, lights were still glowing in the treehouse, but I could see no sign of Twilight Sparkle or her dragon minion watching me. I took off running down the road, shoving my way past a couple of surprised-looking ponies who were out for an evening stroll.

I could only keep up this pace for about half a block before I fell to my knees wheezing, but when I looked over my shoulder I could see no signs of pursuit. Just the two ponies I'd shoved aside, who were still watching me with annoyed and slightly puzzled expressions. Then, they both shrugged and continued on their way.

I followed the road south until I came to an open square. This was where the market was set up during the daytime, but the stalls were all closed now. I went to the asparagus stall and fumbled at the latch until I got the shutter open, but it had been emptied out for the night. I felt a twinge of anxiety, but managed to force it down.

The layout of this town was a little haphazard, but I'd been there long enough that I could more or less find my way around. I remembered being told that Sweetie Belle lived with her older sister at a place called Carousel Boutique, which I was pretty certain was nearby.

I made my way up and down several streets and had to backtrack a couple of times, but eventually I found a cul-de-sac with a large, ostentatious boutique at the end, shaped like a carousel. My gut instinct told me that this was the place.

I went around the building to the back. I had no idea which room was Sweetie Belle's, but there was a light on in one of the windows on the second floor rotunda. I crouched in the bushes, and began throwing pebbles so that they tapped softly off the glass. Eventually, the window opened, and a little white unicorn filly poked her head out.

"Who's down there?" she called softly. "Apple Bloom? Scootaloo?"

"Pssst! Sweetie Belle!" I hissed, standing up slightly from behind the bush and waving my hands.

When she saw me, Sweetie Belle sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Rusty?!?" she hissed back down at me. "What are you doing here? You know what, never mind, I don't care. Go away! I'm in enough trouble because of you!"

"Sweetie Belle!" I hissed again. "You have to come down here! It's important!"

Suddenly, a light in one of the first floor windows went on, and a moment later the back door swung open. I ducked down behind the bush, just as a tall white unicorn came stomping out. Her purple mane was in curlers and her face was covered with some kind of feminine beauty goop.

"Who's there?!?" she called out, sounding angry. "Because I swear to Celestia, if it's that ruffian Rusty Shackleford, I have more than a few choice words for you—"

"It's okay, Rarity!" Sweetie Belle called down from her window. "It was just some squirrels! Go back to bed!"

Rarity stood on the back stoop, glaring suspiciously into the darkness for a few moments longer. Then she harrumphed loudly and went back inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

Sweetie Belle peered over the windowsill to make sure her sister had gone, and then turned back to me.

"Just stay there and don't move," she hissed. "I'm coming down!"

With impressive dexterity, the little foal scrambled out through the window, slid down the roof, bounced off a first-floor window awning and landed gracefully in the grass below. She padded softly around the bush and stood glowering at me.

"I'm not supposed to be talking to you," she said, still keeping her voice low. "My sister says you're a bad influence and we shouldn't be friends. So what do you want, anyway?"

I glanced around in case her sister was still lurking around somewhere. Then I leaned forward and whispered:

"Do you have any smokes?"

Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip like she was stifling a scream. Then, she took a deep, calming breath and exhaled slowly.

"No, Mr. Rusty, I'm sorry. I don't have any smokes."

Rats. Well, it had been worth a try.

"Okay, forget that then," I said. "Question number two: can you tell me how to get back to Silver Spoon's place? I don't remember the way."

"What do you want to go back there for?"

"I, uh..." I scratched the back of my neck. It had been almost forty-five minutes since I'd last had a smoke, and it was getting harder to think straight. "I wanted to apologize to her. You know, for jumping her earlier."

Sweetie Belle raised a single eyebrow.

"You want to apologize."

"Uh-huh."

"In the middle of the night."

"It's not the middle of the night."

"That's not the—" she sighed. "Never mind. Look, if we go back there tonight her dad will just yell at us again and we'll get in even more trouble. Just talk to her at school tomorrow."

She turned around to go back inside.

"Wait!"

My voice cracked a little from panic. I was breaking out in a cold sweat, and it was getting harder and harder to keep my convulsions under control. Sweetie Belle paused and looked back over her shoulder.

"Are you really going over there to apologize?" she asked.

"I, uh..." I trailed off.

Sweetie Belle sighed and shook her head.

"I knew it," she said. "This is just more crazy stuff about her being a sideboard or whatever, isn't it? I'm going to bed."

She turned back towards the house.

"Wait!" I cried again, grabbing her by the tail. She made an irritated noise in the back of her throat and glared at me.

"Silver Spoon isn't a cyborg," I said quickly. "I don't even need to talk to her at all. It's her father! It was him all along!"

She sighed.

"So now you think her father's a sideboard?"

"No, I think he's a government agent!"

Sweetie Belle just stared at me like I had bugs in my teeth.

"Well yeah, of course he is. He works for the government in Canterlot."

"No, I mean—"

I cut myself off and took a deep puff, trying to think. How could I explain this to her without blowing her mind?

"Look," I said, exhaling. "You're just going to have to trust me for now. But I think we can blow this whole thing wide open, tonight!"

"What thing? Blow what wide open?" Sweetie looked me over for a moment, and then sighed heavily. "Oh, never mind. I never know what in Equestria you're talking about most of the time, anyway."

"If your planet was about to be terraformed I'd help you."

She sighed again.

"Alright, fine," she huffed. "I'll go with you. But only because you'll just cause more trouble if I'm not there."

She started back towards me, then paused.

"Wait here a second," she said.

She trotted off towards a little garden in the back of the carousel-house. A few moments later she returned with something floating in her tractor beam.

"Here," she said, passing me a small bundle of asparagus stalks. I immediately snatched them out of the air.

"You were holding out on me!"

"Just take them. You get weird when you don't have these things."

My fingers still twitching, I broke the stalks into several cigarette-sized chunks and stuffed them into my pocket. I put the last one in my mouth and began flicking at it with my lighter. My hands were shaking and there was a breeze, so I was having trouble getting it to ignite. Sweetie Belle watched me with a bemused expression.

"...weird-er," she added.

Finally, I had a flame. I blackened the tip of the asparagus, then I took a long, grateful puff. The shakes went away almost immediately. I breathed out a huge sigh of relief, then rose to my feet and brushed off the front of my jeans.

"Alright. S'go."

About thirty minutes later, we were once again crouched in the bushes in front of the path, looking at the dim outline of the Spoon mansion silhouetted in the moonlight. The place was eerily quiet, and all the windows were dark.

"There, you see?" whispered Sweetie Belle next to me. "They're probably all asleep. Now let's hurry up and go back before my sister notices I'm gone."

I scratched my chin, staring pensively at the house. The place did indeed look quiet. Perhaps a little too quiet. I blew out a puff of imaginary smoke and ground out my asparagus stalk against a nearby rock.

"I need to get closer," I whispered, and started crawling forward.

"What?!? Hold on, you can't go in there!"

I felt a small tingle of electricity on the back of my neck as Sweetie Belle's tractor beam tugged against my shirt collar. I looked back over my shoulder.

"Don't you remember what she said earlier in the woods today?" I asked. "About her father having some important ponies over for dinner tonight? Government ponies?"

Sweetie Belle huffed.

"Is that what this is all about?!? I told you already, her dad works for the government in Canterlot. That's why her family is so rich. They probably have 'important ponies' over for dinner all the time."

"Then how come the house is all dark?"

"Uh, maybe because it's nighttime?"

I scratched my chin again, trying to recall exactly what that well-dressed earth pony had said back at Twilight's place:

"Now if you will please return my daughter's glasses, I'd like to be on my way. I have a very important dinner tonight, with some very important ponies."

It had been just about sundown when he’d said that, and there was still light in the sky when I’d escaped from the basement. If I figured about twenty minutes to get to Sweetie Belle’s and another thirty to get to the mansion, it was probably about nine o’clock just then.

"Both Silver Spoon and her dad said they were having a dinner party tonight," I explained. "And when her dad came over to Twilight's earlier to yell at me, he also said he still had to get ready for it."

"So?" she whispered back.

"So, that was only a couple hours ago. Have you ever heard of a fancy rich-people dinner party that was over in two hours?"

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to say something, then she paused, considering.

"Well, Rarity has dinner parties sometimes," she admitted finally. "And they usually do last a pretty long time. Those fancy ponies she invites over always want to stay for cop-tales and whatever after dinner. They're always talking and laughing and making noise when I'm trying to sleep..."

She trailed off. We both looked back at the house, a gloomy mass of towers and and spires rising up from behind the wall. It was completely dark and silent.

"Do you really think something's wrong over there?" she whispered. It seemed like her curiosity was starting to get the better of her.

"Only one way to find out," I whispered back.

A light breeze stirred up, rustling the foliage around us. Sweetie Belle's tail twitched back and forth.

"I guess it couldn't hurt to get a little closer and take a look," she whispered finally.

We crept slowly forward until we reached the gate. Sweetie Belle nudged it with a hoof and found that it wouldn't move.

"It's locked. How do we get in?"

I lifted her up and set her on top of the wall, then hauled myself over. Then I picked her up and set her down on the other side.

"Right, that works," she muttered.

Now that we were on the other side of the wall, I could see that there actually was a single window on the first floor that had a light on. That was it though, and somehow it made the place look even more foreboding. Another soft breeze stirred the grass, and nearby a rusty old swingset began to creak.

"I don't like this," hissed Sweetie Belle. "Maybe we should go back..."

"We're already here," I replied. "Might as well take a look."

I got down on my hands and knees and began crawling up the slight incline of the yard towards the mansion. After a moment's hesitation, Sweetie Belle trotted quickly after me, staying close.

We crouched down low, just underneath the lit-up window. I put a finger to my lips, and then ever so slowly I peered up over the ledge.

The room inside looked like some kind of library, lined with shelves of leatherbound books and lit by an ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Silver Spoon's father was seated on an enormous couch, next to an earth pony mare who I assumed was her mother. Both of them were drinking wine out of expensive-looking crystal goblets, which they somehow managed to grip with their front hooves. Across from them on another couch sat a refined-looking unicorn wearing a tuxedo and monocle. The three of them were all laughing about something.

Suddenly, a door at the back opened, and another pony entered the room.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, old sport," said the newcomer in a casual tone.

"Oh, that's no trouble," said Spoon's father. "Hopefully you didnt—"

He cut himself off mid-sentence. His jaw fell open and the crystal goblet dropped away from his hoof, spilling wine all over the rug.

"Oh now, darling, look at what you've done," his wife chastised. "You've gone and spilled—"

When she noticed what he was staring at, however, she went immediately silent and dropped her own goblet. Standing in the doorway was... Silver Spoon's father.

The replica entered the room and stood directly in front of his counterpart.

"What in the—" they both said at the same time. "How is this—"

Silver Spoon's father lowered his head, then raised it again. Across from him, the other one did the same. He lifted his front hoof and wiggled it, and his doppelganger mirrored the gesture.

The unicorn with the monocle tilted his head back and laughed.

"Oh, how droll this has all been," he said, in a refined voice that matched his appearance. "However..."

There was a bright flash of blue-green light, and the unicorn transformed into an exact copy of Silver Spoon's mother.

"...I'm afraid we must cut our visit short," she finished, her voice now matching that of the earth pony mare she was imitating.

Before the pair on the couch could even react, there was another flash of blue-green light, and the two copycats had once again transformed. They were now a pair of black, horrifying creatures, part bug and part pony, with bulbous green eyes and flittering insect wings.

The jagged horns on their heads lit up, and Silver Spoon's parents were each enveloped in a blue-green aura that solidified into a coccoon-like sac. The ponies inside struggled, flailing their hooves and screaming in silence. Finally, their eyes rolled back and they went still, each one suspended in the center of a translucent orb like mosquitoes in amber.

I lost my grip on the ledge and fell. I backed slowly away from the window, dew from the lawn seeping into the seat of my pants, my mouth gaping silently open and shut.

"What?" hissed Sweetie Belle in alarm. "What did you see in there?!?"

"Ah... ah..." my mouth continued to open and close as I struggled to get the words out.

"What?!?" Sweetie Belle now looked genuinely frightened.

"Aliens," I finally croaked out.

"What?"

"ALIENS!!" I practically screamed, my voice high and hysterical. "Real ones!! The invasion is upon us! It's every man, woman and horse-child for themselves!"

15: Invasion of the Ponysnatchers

My outburst had attracted the attention of the creatures inside. One of them flew immediately to the window, pressing its face against the glass and hissing.

"Witnesses!" the creature at the window snarled to its accomplice. "We can't let them escape, it will spoil everything!"

"YAAAH!"

I continued to back away from the window.

"What are those things?!?" cried Sweetie Belle.

The monster's horn crackled with blue-green light, and suddenly the window exploded outward. Sweetie Belle flinched and covered her face with her foreleg as shards of broken glass rained down on us.

"Save yourself!" I shrieked, scrambling to my feet. I took off running as fast as I could.

"Hey!" Sweetie Belle shouted after me.

I was out of breath after two steps, but adrenaline got me as far as the wall. I vaulted over it a single leap, but lost my balance on the other side and fell face-first into the grass. Behind me I could hear the buzzing of insect wings as one of the creatures followed me over the top. I thought I was a goner, but somehow it missed me and kept flying off into the woods in the direction I would have run, hissing and cursing as it went. Whatever these things were, they didn't seem to have very good night vision.

"Mr. Rusty! Help! I can't make it over!"

I heard Sweetie Belle squeaking in terror on the other side of the wall. I hesitated, torn between my natural instinct for self-preservation and this nagging, insistent voice in my head, telling me that I might have some small responsibility here. Against all reason, the voice won out.

I stood up and peered back over the wall. The second monster had caught up. Sweetie Belle was flailing her limbs helplessly, being slowly cocooned inside one of those big blue orbs.

I reached into my pocket, but all I had were a few asparagus stalks. It was better than nothing, though, so I flung a handful of them at the creature. It hissed, its concentration broken by a sudden hail of vegetable matter. The half-formed orb popped, and Sweetie fell to the ground, coughing and sputtering.

While the monster was distracted, I leaned over the wall and pulled her up. The alien meanwhile had recovered its composure. It hissed again, and took to the air.

"WAAAH!"

I cried out, cowering against the wall as it lunged after us. It flew over the top, but instead of pouncing it just hovered a few feet ahead with its back to us, hissing angrily. Its head darted from side to side, sniffing the air and looking into the darkness.

I let go of Sweetie Belle and grabbed the last few pieces of asparagus I had in my pocket, then flung them in the general direction of the woods. They didn't go very far, but the distraction worked. The creature hissed, and darted off into the trees.

Sweetie Belle and I sat there, panting quietly and not daring to move, but the night was once again still. There was no sign of any more of the creatures.

"Mr. Rusty, what were those things—"

Sweetie Belle was whispering, but I was already crawling around in the grass, trying to recover as many of my asparagus stalks as I could find.

Neither of us had much to say to each other as we made our way through the darkness, back to Ponyville. Those two aliens were still buzzing around out there somewhere, and every snapping twig or moving branch was enough to set us on edge. Being a professional soldier of fortune I was naturally in my element, but I had to figure that Sweetie Belle was pretty scared. I knew I would need to keep all my wits about me if we were to have any hope of surviving the night.

"YAAAAAAAGH!" I shrieked, as I felt something brush against the back of my leg.

"Shhh!" hissed Sweetie Belle. "Sorry, that was just me. I can't see anything out here."

I recovered my composure and checked my six. Finding it secure, I checked all the other numbers. Also secure. My heart was thumping in my chest, so I lit an asparagus stalk to quiet it down.

"That's okay," I whispered back. "But try to keep quiet, or else you'll give away our position."

We carried on in relative silence, until finally we were out of the woods and back in the town proper. By then it was well past the bedtime of most respectable ponies, and the streets were dark and quiet.

Sweetie Belle didn't want to approach her house from the front, on the off-chance that her sister might still be awake. She took us through a small opening in a nearby fence, and we threaded our way through a bit of underbrush until we came out through the hedge behind Rarity's garden. We sat there awhile, watching, but the carousel was dark and there was no sign of the monsters.

"Do you think we lost them?" whispered Sweetie Belle.

I took a long, thoughtful puff of asparagus.

"For now," I said. "But they'll be back."

"What should we do?!?" she whispered. Now that the immediate danger had passed the reality of what we'd seen was sinking in, and there was a note of panic in her voice. "We have to warn everypony! Maybe we should go to the library and wake up Twilight—"

"SWEETIE BELLE!!"

Sweetie Belle cut herself off mid-sentence at her sister's sharp tone. Her entire body went instantly rigid, her back arching like a cat's. We both turned slowly in the direction of the voice.

Rarity, still in her curlers and bathrobe, was standing in the middle of a yellow square of light spilling out from the back door. Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to freeze in her mouth. For all the rancor in her voice, Rarity didn't seem to have even noticed us. Instead, she was talking to... us.

Sweetie Belle's doppelganger flashed her sister an insolent grin.

"Sorry," she said. Her voice had an unfamiliar nasal quality to it. "Guess we just lost track of the time."

Rarity huffed indignantly.

"I should say so, it's past ten o'clock! Honestly, Sweetie Belle, I just don't know what to do with you lately! You're turning into quite the delinquent, young filly, and I do not much care for it!"

Sweetieganger smiled pleasantly at her.

"Sor-ry!" she repeated, in a mocking, sing-song voice.

Rarity huffed and sputtered, evidently too incensed to notice the ominous green glow in her baby sister's eyes.

"Just—get in the house," she snapped finally. "We'll discuss this later. And YOU!!"

She rounded suddenly on my doppelganger, who was rocking back and forth on his heels, whistling nonchalantly and staring up at the night sky.

"How dare you corrupt my poor, sweet sister this way! Just what do you have to say for yourself, Rusty Shackleford?"

"I am terribly sorry," said me, in a voice that didn't sound even a little bit like me. "We went into the forest to gather throwing-vegetables. We were then sidetracked by a conversation about how old and boring you are, and we lost track of the time. Please forgive us."

Sweetieganger had her fetlock pressed against her mouth to stifle laughter. Rarity's entire body trembled with rage.

"Why, you boorish, ill-mannered, malodorous... miscreant!!"

"You are correct," said me. "For I am slow-witted and smell terrible."

Sweetieganger finally burst out laughing, which earned her a withering glare from her sister.

"Sweetie Belle! In the house, now!!" Rarity commanded, pointing her hoof towards the door with a theatrical flourish. "And you, Rusty Shackleford, will return to Twilight's this instant! You may rest assured that I will be having words with her regarding your conduct. In the meantime, you will stay away from my sister. And I do not ever want to see you around my shop again! Hrrmph!"

She spun around dramatically and strode back inside. Sweetieganger trotted gaily after her, nose in the air. As she went, she turned and looked directly at us, flashing us an absolutely evil smirk before disappearing into the carousel-house. The Gribbleganger, meanwhile, was already crawling up the side of the building like some kind of lizard, slithering through Sweetie Belle's open window on the second floor.

The real Sweetie Belle turned to me in dismay.

"Come on!" she hissed. "We can't let those things get my sister!"

I wavered. Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes in disgust and then took off at a gallop. Before she could go, however, I grabbed her by the tail, holding her in place as her legs thrummed uselessly against the grass. She turned and glared at me. I took a deep drag of asparagus.

"Hold your horses," I said, grinding the stalk out on a nearby decorative stone. "That's just what they want us to do. Come on. I've got a plan."

16: I Want to Believe

"This is your plan?!?"

Sweetie Belle stared at the crude lean-to I'd constructed, a ramshackle structure made out of sticks and leaves.

"I know it doesn't look like much," I admitted, lighting an asparagus stalk. "But we may have to survive out here for days, weeks, months even. We are going to need shelter. Food. Water. A steady supply of asparagus. Ammunition. Barracks and provisions for the army we need to raise. This humble shelter is just the beginning."

Sweetie Belle raised a single eyebrow, saying nothing. Then she walked over to the lean-to and nudged it gently with a hoof. It collapsed. She turned and looked at me with the same dry expression. I shrugged.

"Okay, I'll admit my design could use some tweaking. If you have any suggestions, I'm willing to listen."

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on, follow me."

She led us back through the orchard a little ways, until eventually we came to a small clearing. At the center was a squat, wide-branched apple tree with a wooden hut built into it. I recognized it as the treehouse I'd been brought to shortly after my arrival on the horse planet.

I stood at the base of the tree, scratching my chin. I had to admit that this place would make a good base of operations. There was even a reconnaissance tower complete with a spyglass at the very top.

"This will probably work for now," I mused. "But if we're going to withstand a prolonged siege, we're going to need provisions..."

Sweetie Belle said nothing. She walked over to the trunk of the tree, then gave it a swift kick with her hind leg. An apple dropped from one of the overhanging branches. She caught it in her horn aura and munched it slowly, giving me that same deadpan stare.

"Alright then, that takes care of food," I said. "Now we just need water. I'll see if I can rig up a filtration system so we can drink our urine—"

"Yeah, I already told you I'm not doing that," said Sweetie Belle. "Besides, there's a stream right over there."

She gestured with a hoof, and sure enough a small brook was softly gurgling a short distance away.

"You can't drink from that!" I exclaimed. "You don't know what's in it!"

Sweetie Belle just shook her head, and began tromping up the ramp.

"Come on, Mr. Rusty," she said wearily. "Let's just get some sleep. We can figure the rest out in the morning."

I felt like I had barely drifted off, when I was suddenly jerked awake by the sound of birds chirping on the branches outside. I groaned and opened my eyes. The light coming in through the treehouse window was the dull grey of early dawn. My body was stiff and cold, and there was a thin layer of dew on my clothes.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my aching joints. Sweetie Belle was sitting behind a wooden crate that functioned as a table, munching despondently on an apple. The dark circles under her eyes suggested that she hadn't gotten much sleep either. Wordlessly, she levitated another apple and passed it to me.

We had a silent, gloomy breakfast, and then clambered slowly down out of the treehouse. The clearing was in the middle of an immense grove of apple trees, stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction. Sweetie Belle had explained the night before that the treehouse was situated on Apple Family land, about halfway between the farm and the Ponyville school.

We hiked a short distance through the orchard until we reached the road. The sun had risen by then, transforming the early morning mist into a golden haze that made it difficult to see very far. In the distance, I could hear the faint sound of hooves approaching.

"Get down," I whispered, ushering Sweetie Belle into some nearby underbrush, and then crouching down next to her. I lowered my clip-on sunglasses and peered over the top of the bush, squinting into the morning sunlight.

The hoofsteps gradually became louder, and a moment later Apple Bloom trotted around a bend in the path. She had her schoolbag slung across her back, and still looked a little bleary-eyed from sleep.

"Psst!" I hissed from my hiding place as she passed by. The filly paused, looking around. "Pssst!" I hissed again.

"Is somepony there?" she called out hesitantly.

"PSSST!" I hissed, louder this time.

Next to me, Sweetie Belle sighed and stood up. She stepped out of the bushes.

"Over here, Apple Bloom," she called out.

Apple Bloom turned.

"Oh, hey Sweetie Belle."

I stood up and brushed myself off. Sweetie Belle had cost us the element of surprise, but that was probably okay this time. The little pony looked like she was alone.

"Hey, Mr. Rusty," Apple Bloom added when she saw me. She frowned, taking note of my muddy, rumpled clothes and Sweetie Belle's dissheveled mane and tail. "Uh, are you two alright? You look like you slept outside or somethin'."

Sweetie Belle blinked and yawned. She had dark bags under her eyes and looked like she was beyond exhausted.

"We slept in the treehouse," was all she said.

"The treehouse?"

Apple Bloom looked back and forth from one of us to the other.

"Uh, maybe you should tell me what's goin' on."

We did our best to recount our adventures from the night before. Apple Bloom's frown deepened.

"So... you're sayin' these weird shape-shiftin' bugs kidnapped Silver Spoon's parents and replaced 'em with copies?"

Sweetie Belle nodded.

"Yeah. Probably Silver Spoon too. And my sister." She looked drained. "They can make themselves look like anypony they want."

"How many of 'em are there?"

"I don't know. We’ve only seen two, but there are probably lots more.”

She gave a huge yawn, swaying unsteadily on her hooves. Apple Bloom watched her with concern.

"Uh, I'm not sayin' I don't believe you, but... maybe you should just go home and get some sleep, Sweetie Belle. You too, Mr. Rusty. I can tell Miss Cheerilee you're not comin' to school today—"

"NO!"

Apple Bloom jerked back, alarmed by the sudden force in her friend's voice.

"No," Sweetie Belle said again, in a more normal tone. "Please, I know how all of this sounds, but I swear we're not making it up."

Apple Bloom looked from her face to mine and then back again, frowning.

"I swear we're not making it up," Sweetie Belle repeated.

"So... what should we do, then?" asked Apple Bloom.

"We're going to need to raise an army," I said. "We've secured a base of operations, but we're going to need weapons, ammunition, provisions that can last through a protratcted siege—"

Sweetie Belle stomped on my foot.

"We need to find Scootaloo," she interjected, cutting me off with a sour look.

"Don't you two usually walk to school together?" Apple Bloom asked, glancing at me briefly with a mild look of pity in her eyes.

Sweetie nodded.

"Yeah. She sleeps late, though. Sometimes I have to go in there and get her out of bed. She probably isn't even up yet."

"Well, let's get goin' then!"

Scootaloo's house turned out to be a dilapidated two-story cottage in a run-down section of Ponyville. The windows were dirty, and the roof badly needed to be re-thatched. The overgrown yard had trash and rusted scooter parts strewn across it.

"You know, I think this is the first time I've ever been to Scoot's house," said Apple Bloom as we approached the shabby hut. "Does anypony else even live here?"

Sweetie Belle shook her head wearily.

"It's kind of a long story," she said. "Anyway—"

"Get down!" I hissed suddenly, grabbing the two ponies and ducking behind the unkempt shrubbery that bordered the yard. We peered cautiously through a hole in the bushes just as the front door of the house began to creak open.

"So, what was the thing you guys wanted to show me before school?"

Scootaloo stepped out onto the porch, blinking sleepily in the morning sunlight.

"It's over at Twilight's library," said a voice that sounded vaguely like Sweetie Belle's. Sweetie's clone emerged onto the porch a moment later, followed by mine.

"Yeah," said the Dale clone. "I really think you're going to like it."

Scootaloo yawned and cracked her neck.

"I've been to Twilight's library before, no offense but it was nothing special. Can you at least tell me what it is before we walk all the way over there?"

'Sweetie Belle' scowled and tapped her hoof impatiently. The whites of her eyes had a faint green glow behind them.

"It's a surprise," she said. "But we have to hurry up and get there now, before everypony starts waking up."

Scootaloo stretched and yawned again, extending her tiny wings as far as they would go.

"Your voice sounds kind of weird, Sweetie Belle," she said. "Do you have a cold or something—"

"BOO!"

They all jumped as I sprang out of the bushes suddenly, landing directly in front of them and making jazz-hands.

'Sweetie Belle' and 'Dale' hissed in surprise, and with a blue-green flash they both transformed into bugs. Scootaloo just stared blankly, looking back and forth between me and the two insect-creatures who were standing where I and Sweetie Belle had just been. The bugs hissed again and took to the air, buzzing quickly over my head. With another flash of light they transformed into pegasi and disappeared into the town. A nearby stallion pulling a cart laden with vegetables watched them go, a confused expression on his face. Then, he shrugged and continued on his way.

Scootaloo blinked as Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom emerged from behind the shrubs. She glanced at us, then at the direction the bugs had gone, then back at us again, and then behind her into the house. She shook her head and scowled.

"Dammit. I'm still asleep, aren't I?"